#when you suck at everything and keep dying and also sometimes have better morals than the main characters

[mikumutual]

kabru is so funny. i feel like he tries to manipulate laios but in his perspective laios is even more fucked up than he is so it doesn't work

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

lost in the citadel (this is how villains are made)

ao3

Two Morties and a Rick stand facing each other at the end of all things.

Morty, the ordinary one, the stolen Morty--because as it stands C-137 isn’t his Rick and the family he’s stealing time with isn’t his family-thinks that maybe this is a beginning.

The beginning.

The start of something that was always going to happen. The splinter in the timelines that they’ve been careening toward for years but have always been brushing off with offhand jokes about serialized adventures and canon adventures.

Or maybe, instead of a horrifying beginning, it is the merciless end after all. The thrilling conclusion in the clusterfuck that is Rick Sanchez’s life, featuring one Morty Smith.

Or maybe they’re all missing the point.

Maybe this story isn’t about a Rick at all.

Morty Smith, dressed in a black jumpsuit and rapidly keying in sequence codes to the terminal beside him, offers Rick a cold glance over his shoulder and it occurs to the other Morty that this story isn’t about C-137 and or even himself.

It’s about a Lost Morty.

Because the thing is the Stolen Morty remembers the other Morty, the Morty who was President but who is now evil, but also maybe a little bit right, and very very Lost.

He remembers him tagging along after Evil Rick- the Rick who may have not been a Rick at all - remembers the expression on his face when he dragged Morty away from his not his never his Rick and the furrow in his brow after everything, before all the Morties got herded away by Ricks.

Something intelligent has always been gleaming behind the surface of this Morty’s eyes, and the ordinary Morty has been a fool to ignore it. He remembers Rick’s warnings of cocky Morties and his own itching trigger finger and how far he’s willing to go when Rick isn’t around or, even worse, how far he’s willing to go when Rick is around, how far Rick pushes him, how far Ricks push their Morties to do things against the shaky moral code they all possess, how much everything hurts so much all the time and how scared and lonely and worried he is all the time-

The Smart Morty, or maybe distinguishing him from other Morties as smart is wrong-because they’re all smart, you can’t be in their family and not have at least a little bit of something upstairs, despite what Ricks say- maybe the word he’s looking for is free , or even tired or maybe calling him Lost Morty was the most correct-

The Morty who’s currently making every Ricks killcount look pathetic turns and calls them “an infinite fucking baby” and the Stolen Morty thinks fucking relatable .

This thought is quickly lost in a barrage of oh shit oh shit oh shit as the Citadel fills with screaming. The place is literally falling apart around them, Ricks and Morties screaming as they try to activate protocol Phoenix, when a piece of the ceiling crumbles and takes C-137 down with it.

The Stolen Morty takes a step toward him, despite his anger, despite the now you’re evil Morty too ringing in his ears, when the Lost Morty turns and says-

- you can come with me and everything comes to a standstill.

Because the stolen Morty understands what the lost Morty is saying.

Just like how every Rick knows each other’s moves and hates each other, because how could they like each other when they don’t even like themselves, and understands each other on a level that no one else ever can--and despises every other Rick for it, like any of them could help it--just like every Rick knows what the other Rick is about to do-

Morty understands what the other Morty is saying.

Infinite fucking baby.

Jackshit, I’m leaving.

That’s what makes me evil.

Now you’re evil Morty too.

Or even,

You guys can’t help it-

Maybe they’re all Lost Morties and this Morty is the only one who can see that.

Except now the Stolen Morty can see it too.

And that realization breaks every foundation the Stolen Morty has, because hasn’t he been lost too for as long as he can remember?

Isn’t he lost and exhausted and hitting rock bottom only to find that there’s another rock bottom waiting for him after that one? Doesn’t he look in the morning every day and see another part of himself chipping away as he becomes more and more compliant to what everyone else wants, to what Rick wants?

Doesn’t he lie on the roof every night, with the stolen cigarettes from under Summer’s mattress, bare heels digging into the rough shingles, hoping that if he inhales enough smoke everything will stay numb when the sun rises and it all starts over again?

Isn’t Morty so so lost?

Two lost Morties and a Rick face each other at the end of the universe, the beginning of something, and the diverging of paths.

The stolen Morty, ordinary Morty, the Morty who keeps fucking up, the Morty who once opened a book and read about abuse cycles and snapped it shut, but has never forgotten but watches his mom stop drinking only to start up again two weeks later, but watches Summer promise to do better but then fall for Rick’s manipulations without fall again and again, but he, himself also keeps crawling back to the people hurting him again and again and again…

This Morty hears the words you could come with me and for the first time in his life sees possibilities.

Every taste of freedom Rick has ever given has been tainted with the knowledge that one of them always comes crawling back to the other. It’s a universal constant, as long as there’s a Rick there must also be a Morty. And usually vice versa, although Morty’s met Rick’s without a Morty. He doesn’t like to think about them.

But now someone stands before him and offers a world where “Rick and” doesn’t proceed a Morty’s existence.

He hears Rick say something about this being the better offer and something about him not having a plan, but there’s a high pitched whine ringing in his ears, breath squeezing tightly in his lungs, a burn like anxiety itching under his skin.

But there’s no time for that because everyone’s dying and Rick’s groaning with pain and the other Morty is about to leave.

Morty has only a split second to make a decision and he-he doesn’t-

He doesn’t know what to do.

There’s a burn in his lungs and a pulse in his ears and the only person in his life who’s even chosen him is in pain and Morty doesn’t even think , suddenly he’s across the room, helping Rick, the Rick that’s hurt him and forced him to hurt over people and won’t stop no matter how many self actualization moments he has or promises he makes to do better, but none of it matters to Morty because, because-

--Rick is dragging him out of bed, rambling loudly- loudly enough to wake the whole family, so Morty shushes him, makes panicked little noises begging him to just quiet down -but then they’re out in the garage and then in Rick’s ship and then they’re zipping through space and Rick won’t tell Morty where they’re going, why he’s dragged Morty out of bed this time, and on a school night again

but then Morty sees it, three orbiting stars going supernova and Rick is saying something about statistical anomalies and epic light shows , but Morty isn’t even listening because now he’s seeing colors he didn’t even know existed and he’s aware his nose is smooshed against the window and he’s fogging the glass, but he doesn’t even care-

-he fails another test and Rick tells him school is wasted on him anyway that not even he’s the kind of stupid that needs the American education system to mold him into a mindless citizen-

-the garage blows up and Morty has glass in his eye and he’s sobbing screeching yelling begging, but then warm, rough hands are on his face and everything goes numb for a second and then the pain is gone -

-Morty watches Rick fuck around the keyboard before sitting down next to him, exhausted because school sucked, school always sucks , but then Rick is guiding his hands toward the keys and saying shit like m-middle c, M-Morty, it’s not that hard , and then they’re pressing keys together and the sound soothes the itch under his skin-

-he’s no stranger to the smell of smoke, but the bar smell has him feeling a particular way, so he steps outside for a moment, just a moment to catch his breath, to quell the nausea in his stomach, but some humanoid creature follows him out and drags him into the ally and just before everything goes wrong , his assailant shrieks and crumbles to the ground and there’s Rick, streetlight silhouetting his furious face-

-he’s sitting in the Principal's office and they can’t get ahold of his mom because she’s at work and who knows where Jerry is and Summer ditched because that what she does now and Morty’s eyes hurt and he’s pretty sure he’s bleeding on top of everything and the sensory overload is just too much he can’t

there’s a hand on his shoulder and a familiar drawl interrupted by belching and suddenly Morty’s being whisked away, he’s in the parking lot, he’s in the ship, someone’s pushing a pair of earplugs into his hands and it’s suddenly, blissfully quiet-

-his knuckles are red and his lip is split and Rick hands him ice cream and says next time punch with y-your two front knuckles, du-dumbass, and then something buzzes in his ears and his skin is healing-

-Rick slings an arm over his shoulder and belches loudly-

-a hand ruffles his hair-

-a voice that is soft sometimes but also yells sometimes and calls him names but also says things like I’m so sorry and I’ll do better and god, M-Morty would you just shut up -

The president Morty does that thing with the curve thingy and the citadel explodes.

____

When the golden light fades away and the crack in the curve slams shut after the other Morty--the smartest Morty, or maybe just the tiredest Morty, the Morty who had finally said enough and used his brain for something other than defending Rick--the Rickest Rick and the Morty who threw his chance at freedom away stand in what’s left of the Citadel.

Morty--possibly the dumbest Morty, the Morty that belongs to Rick C-137, even though this Morty isn’t from dimension C-137, the Morty that keeps getting a shot at getting out , but throwing it all away because at this point he doesn’t know how to exist without a “Rick and” in front of his name--turns in a slow circle, blinking rapidly.

Mortyberg is a little worse for wear, but nowhere near as bad as the rest of the Citadel, which is miles away and crumbling fast. Morty seriously doubts there’s any survivors --not after the clusterfuck that had happened there.

Morty turns back to Rick--not his Rick, but also his Rick--and his eyes lock on what the man has been staring at in horror.

The portal gun is empty.

They are lightyears from any civilization--possibly universes away, because even though Morty can’t really comprehend what the Citadel really is, he’s also fairly certain that it doesn’t exist in any universe besides it’s own--and Rick’s portal gun is empty.

Rick turns and stares at the closing crevice in the stars. Morty follows his gaze.

The tiny sliver of black disappears and so does Morty’s freedom.

He chances a glance at Rick. The man’s eyes are glued to-to-

Morty looks at the other Morties, some of them normal, some of them those terrible, hideous things they saw beneath the citadel, and realizes that it’s just them, just whoever Rick managed to drag to this part of the citadel and anyone fortunate enough to already be here.

He thinks he sees a few Ricks too, their Morty’s clinging to them in terror or watching with mild disinterest--cynical, jaded Morty’s, one step ahead of this Morty and yet still ones step behind.

“Well, shit,” Morty hears himself say, lack of stutter almost startling. It’ll come back full force in a minute, he’s sure.

Rick doesn’t say anything, lips thinning with either irritation or panic. Morty can usually tell, but the past hour has shaken him. Possibly shaken both of them.

Another Rick suddenly appears in the terminal that they’re all standing in and Morty’s stolen Rick goes expressionless again. There’s a lot of shouting that goes on, between them, between the other Ricks, and a couple of scared Morties, but this Morty barely registers any of that.

Everything has narrowed down to the other Morty’s voice in his head and the sound of his stolen Rick’s voice in his ear. Angry. Irritated. Worried.

The other Rick smacks a hand to his forehead in exasperation and says something that Morty doesn’t quite catch, but suddenly both Rick’s are practically shrieking at each other and it’s too loud -

Morty flinches away, stumbling into his Rick, who catches him on impulse, not really paying attention. His hand grabs Morty’s upper arm and he rights him, while continuing to throw insults in the other Rick’s direction. Eventually they calm down-although Morty isn’t paying attention enough to know how they actually came to a resolution on...whatever they were fighting about (he should really start paying attention)-and the other Rick sulks off, herding Morties off the terminal and into the streets.

Another Rick comes running- cop Rick-and takes over, gently talking to the Morties and asking them if they needed anything, if they were okay and everything right now between that and the Evil Morty-the Lost Morty- blowing the place up and Rick-Rick-

Everything right now is so surreal Morty distantly entertains the scenario that he might, in fact, have died. Or never come out of those memories.

He lets out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes so tightly shut that stars burst behind the lids. When he opens them, he’s still standing on the last functioning part of the Citadel, with several Ricks, even more Morties, and no way of getting home.

No way yet.

There is no doubt in Morty’s mind that Rick already has a plan with at least fifty contingencies and contingencies for the contingencies. He is still Rick Sanchez after all, even if eight percent of his personality is a product of trauma.

But when he turns to look at Rick, the man is still staring blankly at the sky, where they had last seen the other Morty disappear.

His grip on Morty’s shoulder tightens.

____

It takes all of three hours to figure out that every Rick here has a plan, and not every plan really gets along with the others.

Morty’s Rick clearly has the best idea-and he’s not just saying that because he’s biased, he’s not - but it’s going to take a hell of a lot to convince the other Ricks, so Morty takes his exit when the fighting starts and finds a back alley to hunker down in.

There are much nicer places in Mortyberg to hang out in, he’s sure, but there’s also less chance a Rick will stumble across him or, even worse, his Rick.

He really just needs a moment to himself.

There’s a dumpster lying in the middle of the path, upended onto its side in the chaos, so Morty hops on top of it and sits, with his feet dangling over the edge.

Despite being the master of compartmentalization, Morty’s hardly been able to focus.

He and Rick often liked to joke about twenty minute adventures and about how cramming so much action into so little time was jarring, but this was the first actual time Morty felt it . Between the memories of someone else’s life- Rick’s life-suddenly dumped into his skull and the President Morty killing eight percent of the Citadel and offering to take Morty with him -

(he’s still not sure if the other Morty was kidding about the toilet thing.)

(he thinks he wasn’t.)

(but what if he was?)

-Morty barely can scramble his own thoughts together, let alone hold a conversation with anyone.

Which is why, naturally his self imposed solitude is quickly interrupted.

Cop Rick pokes his head into the alley and frowns.

“Y-You look like shit, kid,” he says, arms crossed as he approaches.

Morty scowls.

“N-nobody asked you,” he snaps, mirroring Cop Rick in crossing his arms.

“No, I-I mean you-you really look like shit. Christ, does your Rick even feed you?”

When Morty glare deepens, Cop Rick winces reflexively, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, di-did your Rick-was he on the Citadel or-”

Morty groans, already done with this conversation. “My Rick’s fine , he-he’s that asshole revving everyone else up.”

Cop Rick barks a surprised laugh. “Your-your Rick is C-137? Sh-shit, tough break, kid.”

“T-tell me about it,” Morty mumbles, drawing his knees up and looping his arms around them.

The Rick frowns at him for a second before hopping up beside him, letting his legs dangle over the edge next to his. “Wanna talk about it?”

This surprises Morty. This is still a Rick, still a complete asshole who smells like a liquor store and wouldn’t know what tactful was if it hit him in the face, but there’s also something surprisingly sensitive about him.

Morty doesn’t trust the guy--he doesn’t trust anyone , why would he trust a random Rick?--but something in his chest loosens ever so slightly at the almost kind voice.

“Not really,” Morty mumbles, just the same, not really up for getting into the highs and lows of the clusterfuck that was Rick C-137 and the Morty from-from-

Christ, what dimension was Morty even from?

“Wa-wanna grab a bite, then?”

A few moments later finds Morty seated in a diner.

The place is a mess- tables and chairs thrown about in the chaos, but there’s still food in the pantries and freezers, so Morty helps himself to the remaining ice cream in the ice box. It’s the first time he’s eaten since this morning and he’s suddenly ravenous .

“Th-thanks,” Morty says, a few hours later and overfull with gross junk food, as Cop Rick guides him back to where he saw his own Rick last.

He gets a pat on the shoulder in response. “Don’t-don’t worry about it, kid.”

____

Morty takes to wandering around Mortyberg at night.

He thinks it's night, at least. The Citadel didn’t operate in a proper universe, so weather and season were completely artificially generated. Even in this broken off piece of the city, a fake sun still sets, blanketing the place in darkness.

Rick and the few other Ricks who managed to survive are still trying to find a way to create portal fluid. Morty doesn’t think it will take them long. The smartest man in the universe plus twenty more of him means there’s more than enough brain power to go around.

Enough brain power that Morty can keep to himself.

He comes across other Ricks-mostly Cop Rick, which is a relief because he’s the nicest Rick and all the other one’s make him feel weirdly uncomfortable for reasons he can’t quite pinpoint-but mostly it’s just other Morties.

He meets mostly Morties like him-a few dimensions off, or a dimension where Jessica is a guy, or Summer is dating a girl, or Jerry is out of the picture-but there are a few oddities: a lizard Morty, a Morty that hit puberty faster than the rest of them, a Morty with curly curls than the rest of them, and even a Morticia.

He spends time talking to some of them, even realizes that a few are some he knew from before, whether it was from the few times Rick has reluctantly dragged him to the Citadel or the occasional Rick and Morty duo they ran into during adventures.

Most of them are Rickless which is both a terrifying and freeing concept to Morty.

He asks some of them what they’re going to do now.

“O-oh, y-you know. Go to school and j-just be normal now, I-I guess,” one Morty says.

The idea of going back to a regular life-a pre -Rick life, is inconceivable to Morty. Even during times Rick has taken off for weeks at a time to do his own thing or the more recent adventure breakout they had, Morty was still traipsing around the universe(s) getting into trouble.

Morticia squints at him when he asks her. “Wh-what kind of a question i-is that?” she asks, arms crossed.

He shrugs.

She scoffs. “O-obviously Summer and I will figure s-something out.” She shakes her head and walks off, muttering things about dumbass boys and what the fuck does normal even mean .

Morty wonders if it’s weird that out of all the Morties here, he and Morticia have the most in common.

____

Morty begins to have dreams on day three.

They aren’t really dreams. No, they’re memories , memories of that brainscan he’d dumped into his own mind. He doesn’t know how long he’d been out, but he guesses it had been somewhere between ten to twenty minutes, which was ridiculous considering the amount of information he’d taken in.

Most of it had barely registered due to, well, everything .

But now snippets are coming back.

When Rick finds him, sitting on a rooftop, a few nights after the dreams started, he only sighs with vague annoyance before joining him.

With all the Morties scattered across Mortyberg, this Morty is distantly surprised that Rick knows it’s him.

Or maybe he’s not.

“He broke the curve, di-didn’t he,” Morty says, eyes glued to a constellation of stars that might not even be real.

Rick flops onto his back, arms spread.

“So there’s a chance tha-that we can go to places wh-where you aren’t the smartest man in the universe?”

It’s barely a question.

Rick doesn’t respond and Morty doesn’t look at him.

“Wh-which means your chances of finding the Rick that-”

“ Jesus , Morty, I said w-we could stop talking about it.” He doesn’t even sound that mad, but Morty shuts up anyway.

He crosses his arms and lays down on his back too.

The roof he’d chosen to perch on belonged to some restaurant establishment Morty barely remembered the name of. It was mostly flat, but he’d found a section of it that reclined slightly enough that it felt like sitting on the roof at home.

If he closes his eyes, in fact, he can’t even feel the difference.

His fingers itch for a cigarette. He wonders if anyone here has any.

When he opens his eyes, Rick is staring at him. He looks irritated, but not in a M-Morty stop being a du-dumbass way. There’s something else behind it, something watchful and analyzing. He wants to know something, but is too proud to ask.

Whatever. It’s not as if Morty can read his mind.

“H-hey, do y-you think anyone here has any ciggs?”

Rick frowns. “W-what, you smoke now? Christ, I leave you for like-like three weeks and y-you’re developing-”

Morty groans and rolls onto his side, fed up with Rick’s hypocrisy for like. The zillionth time since the man steamrolled into his life and derailed it.

The silence echoes between them, only occasionally broken up by a Rick or sometimes even a Morty in the street shouting or saying things that Morty can’t quite catch. His mind is racing a million miles a minute, and, like usual, he can’t get it to calm the fuck down .

He likes to think of his own energy as a cup. When he’s around his family the cup is about half full. When his parents are fighting-are being loud , are talking about him like he can’t understand them, when they say things like “special” and “different’ and “needs”-it spills over the edges, little trickles down the side. When he’s at school it’s definitely overflowing, his patience and the amount of energy he needs to function around people fluctuate wildly.

When he’s around Rick it’s either empty or overflowing so quickly that he’s ready to throw up from the intensity of it.

Right now it feels like that.

His breath starts to come in sharp gasps, adrenaline shooting through his body for the first time since he and Rick escaped the exploding Citadel. His eyes are on fire and his lungs aren’t working and his skin feels wrong -

Rick lays a hand on his shoulder.

It doesn’t urge him to move over or do anything other than simply rest there.

Morty feels distantly-because anything other than feeling overwhelmed is distant right now-surprised. Usually when he gets like this Rick either yells at him or offers to sedate him.

Or just leaves him alone.

But it wasn’t always like that, was it?

Morty can remember a time, when he’d just turned 13- or was it 14? It’s hard to remember a time before Rick- and his grandpa had come literally crashing back into their lives and suddenly there was someone who understood who said things to his mom like jesus what are they teaching kids there, and ye-yeah Morty’s special, bu-but you don’t have to treat him different, wow, and sure it was all condescending, sure it was just another way for him to insult someone else-

But someone had understood .

This is abusive , Rick had said a few weeks ago.

It feels like forever.

Maybe he had actually understood this time.

Or maybe, one again, Morty has been duped into believing the great lie. That a Rick could change. That his Rick is different.

Jesus, this isn’t even his Rick.

But he’s one sitting next to him and absentmindedly rubbing his thumb into Morty’s shoulder.

It’s nice. Morty closes his eyes, skin soaking up the warmth.

“I don’t regret it,” Morty says softly. He feels Rick startle next to him, but doesn’t roll over. He keeps all of his limbs interlocked together, ankles crossed, arms folded, as if he can keep himself from falling apart.

He squeezes his eyes shut and whispers. “I don’t regret it.”

(Morty wakes up halfway a few hours later when Rick picks him up. He falls back asleep a few minutes later--soothed by the rocking of Rick’s gait and his annoyed g-go back to sleep --but something in his chest settles at it.

Maybe everything’s going to be fine.)

____

Morty doesn’t really know how they did it-he thinks some Rick’s salvaged some tech from the floating remains of the Citadel and did some sci-fi shit to it or whatever-but a week after the curve thingy explodes, Rick and Morty are in a ship, headed home.

“Aw j-jeez, what are we gonna tell Mom?” Morty says, face pressed into the window. His sleep schedule, which is normally fucked, is now completely nonexistent. The ride home was supposed to be for napping, but the ever prevalent anxiety is keeping him awake.

Rick shrugs. “T-tell her whatever you w-want, Morty, I seriously d-doubt she’s gonna care.”

It stings a bit, but it’s true.

Well, maybe not as true anymore. His mom has been much sterner with Rick over dragging Morty and Summer on dangerous adventures of late, but Morty thinks it has more to do with control than actual concern.

Still, it’s doubtful they’ll get more than passing irritation for being away for a week.

A couple of minutes before they reach earth, Rick stops the ship.

He lets the engine idle for a minute, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

When the silence goes on long enough that Morty is distinctly uncomfortable , he groans and uncurls from his fetal position against the door and blinks bemusedly up at him.

“R-rick?”

“W-we should dial it back for a while,” Rick says. “Maybe go back to s-solo adventures.”

Morty clasps his hands together, twisting them into uncomfortable positions nervously. “I-I don’t know, Rick. It-it seems like wh-when we’re apart things get-they get worse.”

“Y-yeah and you almost di-died like sixty times this week, Morty, I-I don’t think you get a say in w-what’s worse,” Rick sneers.

Morty sighs and looks out the window.

“Rick,” he says, wearily and then cuts himself off.

The man in question glares down at the center console like it personally offended him. “L-look, Morty, you-you may have had a point about not-about not trusting me and-”

“Yeah, okay.”

“-and, wait what.”

“I s-said, okay ,” Morty presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I-I just-we keep doing this, Rick and I-I’m just-”

He sucks in a breath and pulls his hands away. Stares up at Rick with wide eyes and an expression that bleeds emotional vulnerability, but he doesn’t even care anymore because he just threw away every chance at freedom, at a life free from the bullshit that’s so deeply infected in everything he touches, for this man, this guy who can barely even look at him and he’s-he’s-

“I-I’m really tired, okay?” His voice is small. “Can we j-just go home?”

Rick stares at him for a minute before putting the ship back in drive.

The rest of the drive home is silent.

Beth is mad, surprise surprise, but not as mad as she could have been.

Morty lets Rick bare the brunt of it and seeks refuge in his room. It’s a mess, exactly like it was when he left, because Beth isn’t the type to come and clean up after her kids and she’s the only person who’d ever actually walk into his room, except Rick, who doesn’t give a shit.

Morty collapses in bed, intent on sleeping for the next couple of hours or days, when the door creaks open.

It’s Rick. Of course.

He scowls. “W-way to go on having m-my back, M-Moorty,” he says, rolling his eyes in irritation.

Morty rolls his eyes back. “Y-you said that s-she wouldn’t care !” he points an accusatory finger at him.

Rick glares back.

After a moment of prolonged, uncomfortable glaring, Morty looks away. Rick takes this to mean that he won or whatever, because the tension in his shoulder loosens a bit and he flops down on the end of the bed, facedown.

“J-jeez, are y-you having another crisis?” Morty mumbles, tugging the blanket up over his head.

Rick mutters something into the bedding unintelligible so Morty ignores him. Sleep is darkening the edges of his vision anyway.

Before he completely passes out, the door creaks open again.

Everything fades as Beth and Rick start talking.

____

Morty doesn’t think they’re ever going to talk about what happened.

Rick clearly doesn’t care about the other Morty- why would he?- but it’s very clear that he’s upset about....something.

If Morty was to garner a guess it’s because Morty could have left with him.

And he almost had.

He should have.

But no, he hadn’t in the end. He’d chosen to pull Rick up and follow him out of there, instead of taking a deal no other Morty had been offered. And Rick was either mad that he hadn’t or mad that he almost had , and Morty didn’t know how to apologize for either.

It was almost easier in that week when they were stuck on the Citadel because then Rick could take out his ire on other Ricks and Morties or throw all of his energy into solving their predicament.

Now there’s just Morty and the rest of his dysfunctional family.

A whole lot of not talking about it and arguing about other things goes around for a while, with Summer trying to break up the tension by forcing them to go on adventures with her or Beth demanding in hissed whispers that Rick figure it how or whatever because I’m not finding us another therapist.

Morty basically tries to ignore everyone.

Until one night, he’s lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling because insomnia’s a fucking bitch, when he realizes…

Why should he have to avoid Rick?

Why did they have to avoid each other in the first place?

“Y-you know wh-what? The other M-Morty was right, you’re a big fucking baby!” Morty says, bursting into the garage.

Rick looks over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked.

“First-first y-you leave and then you come back and s-suddenly everything’s m-my fault j-just because y-you’re mad that you were wrong about something! It-it isn’t my fault that you figured out y-you’re toxic and don’t know wh-what to do about it!”

Rick looks irritated. “Morty-” he begins, voice already a sneer.

“No, I’m talking right now!” Morty points at him.

Rick crosses his arms and waits.

“I-I don’t regret it, but I should, shouldn’t I? B-because you’re always gonna be a dick and I’m always gonna just be h-here.” Morty swallows, fight suddenly draining out of him. “It’s never gonna change, huh.”

Rick sighs and puts down whatever he was working on. “Look, M-Morty-”

Morty groans, running his hands through his hair. “This blows, can w-we-can we stop? Lets-lets just go watch some interdimensional cable or something.”

Rick drags a hand over his face and looks as tired as Morty feels. “S-so that’s it? We-we’re both fucked up and we’re just gonna go watch tv? Real-real healthy, Morty.”

“Y-yeah, you really can’t call me out on that.” He turns on his heel and makes for the door. Rick catches him before he reaches it.

There’s a pause. Morty doesn’t pull away and Rick doesn’t let go. He just frowns down at Morty for a moment, brow furrowed, that same look in his eyes as that night on the roof. Curious. Analytical.

Then,

“Your mom’s already pissed at us, I-I’m not gonna wake her up.”

Morty blinks. He had maybe forgotten that it was 4am on a Sunday night. “Oh y-yeah.”

Rick’s hand tightens on his shoulder. “But w-we could go out for ice cream.”

Getting ice cream at 4am on a Sunday night isn’t much better than staying up watching tv, but at least Beth wouldn’t lose her shit with them.

Morty smiles. It’s more real and less tired than it’s felt the past couple of months-years even, if he’s being honest.

“Okay,” he says, allowing himself to be herded toward the spaceship.

Once inside, he clicks his seatbelt on and lets his body relax to the sound of the terrible noises the engine makes when it turns over. Rick backs them out and takes off, looking far more at ease than Morty’s seen in a while.

He wishes this could last.

It’s not going to. Of course it’s not. Rick will do something fucked up and Morty will either walk away for a while or continue to be addicted to making the man happy. Their own fucked up little abuse cycle, fueled by shared and separate traumas that neither will admit to, let alone work on.

And still, even knowing-even knowing the shape of the rest of his life, he can’t bring himself to say he made the wrong choice.

He doesn’t regret it.

He can’t bring himself to, because he would go literally insane with it. How could he go on knowing that he threw away the best chance at happiness he’d ever been given?

Morty leans back in the passenger seat and lets Rick’s ramblings and the ambient sounds of the ship wash over him.

It’s the closest thing to peace he has.

____

[fktonofwhatnow]

ok hold on. acomaf is my fave book out of the whole series (it's mostly out of emotional value, i read it when i was younger and didn't have a real understanding out trauma and abuse only that i saw a character i loved getting out of a bad situation and getting happy) so obviously i didn't mind feysand being endgame and the development all of the characters had. i can accept tamlin turned out like that is realistic due to his trauma, i can accept feyre had to flee because it wasn't right for her, but the thing is after acofs i see no point to feyre leaving tamlin when rhysand ends up doing everything they told us tamlin was evil and unredeemable for. hiding the risks of her pregnancy, putting on shields on her, having feyre need to compromise over it. i honestly felt so betrayed by that. i'm not saying feyre and tamlin were good for each other, but it doesn't feel worth it to dismiss the potential they had for what we got with feysand.

also, sarah learn to treat "ugly" trauma with respect challenge. no they don't need to learn to physically fight to fight it. no they don't need a love interest to overcome it. yes the behaviors acquired from trauma and abuse aren't pretty but that doesn't mean a person is undeserving of kindness and compassion.

i think i had a point somewhere but i can't get to it. so hope you don't mind my rambling. anyway i loved your meta about tamlin i think he deserves better too

HOLY SHIT THIS ONE IS SO GOOD OK IM SO EXCITED

Bro you are so fine, I'm the one who doesn't make any sense and I totally get what you're trying to say. (Acomaf was actually my favorite book in the series too ngl)

BUT FUCK YEAH LETS TALK ABOUT RHYSAND.

I don't think it's a secret that Rhysand is one of my least favorite characters in media, probably ever? (How do I even put this into words) He is a bad character and to me, laughably so. You know how if you've ever written a character, there's that little phase that's like "what if people don't like this character' and then you're sad for a little bit? That's how Rhysand feels to me. He feels like SJM looked at this character and thought "I can't stand the thought of people not liking this character because I love him so much" and then did everything in her power to make sure we know how great he is.

Idk if this is just me screaming into the void, but I get to this place with my characters where like, especially if they are a little more morally gray or their decisions have negative impacts, I understand that I don't need the audience to like my main character. they can stand on their own, they can own up to what they do and they can grow from it. Thats what a good character does. That's how you keep your audience rooting for them. You gotta knock them over sometimes.

SJm doesn't knock Rhysand over. She doesn't push him to make mistakes, apologize, own up and move on. Rhysand has never made a decision that ended poorly for him. Everything goes the way he wants it to, because SJm wants us to know how cool and great he is. People who are cool and great don't make bad decisions! SJm doesn't let Rhysand fail, and she doesn't let him suffer his own decisions. Everyone else suffers his decisions, not him.

Rhysand's reputation as a good person hinges entirely on the audience liking him and/or thinking he's hot. And then what happens when the audience thinks neither of those things? Ya get a rly long post like this by a lil enby who is mad all the time. Rhysand loses all credibility when you look at him through a critical lens. Not a single thing the man does makes any goddamn sense. Here I thought acosf would give us a different perspective on Feysand and I was desperately hoping that Nesta would tell us what she really sees in them and how people around them really feel, I hoped that SjM would throw us for a loop and tell us that hey, she does know that Feysand are fucking toxic as hell and ruin the lives of people around them and she wants to show us that from an outside perspective but noooOoOOOoOoOOOO...

Instead we get Nesta hating herself because Rhysand told her that she shouldn't tell Feyre that Feyre could uh die in childbirth. Hey what the fuck.

Now I don't actually ship feylin, I kinda always sorta knew, even without spoilers, that it wasn't going to work out. Tamlin isn't sjm's idea of a good partner because he's not charming and witty and dark and handsome ya know? We met Rhysand and I knew that I was going to fucking hate this romance. Which sucks because I found Rhysand so intriguing in the first book. Ngl all the time spent in the spring court was kinda boring and every time Rhysand showed up to throw dead faeries at Tamlin I was like "oooooo" and I wanted to know more about why Tamlin, this awkward, blunt and kinda shy dude had beef with this super duper sly and shady man from another court.

I don't know if I've ever said this before, but SJm doesn't let her love interests grow. Rhysand doesn't change over the course of the story because he was already a good guy and his motives were for Feyre's sake I swear, the same goes for Rowan in TOG. SJm doesn't give Rhysand room to change. She needs to get to the part where they fuck make sure everyone knows that Rhysand is a good guy and actually he was good all along so that we like him more than Tamlin. It backtracks on everything bad Rhysand has ever done because you know... He had a good reason! It's fine!

I know it's probably just because SJm doesn't actually know how to write a good character growth arc but... Like can you imagine if Rhysand stayed the bad guy? Or at least remained the bad guy through acotar and acomaf? And then when Rhysand comes to take Feyre for his bargain it really was only to spite Tamlin? What about Rhysand, taking Feyre to the night court with him once a week every month for a long time, if only to see Tamlin's eyes grow darker and emptier every time he goes, and then he really starts to fall in love with Feyre. He's been a monster all this time, angry and cold and cruel and then he actually starts to fall in love. And then to get Feyre to stay he really does try to change, he stops antagonizing Feyre, he stops throwing dead faeries at Tamlin, and he stops harassing the Spring court. He starts spending genuine quality time with Feyre, he starts to learn about her and all the things she likes and he stops trying to get her to come with him just so Tamlin will be mad. He starts asking her to come with him because he wants to be around her and he prays that someday she'll want to be around him too. What if SJm let him grow.

But nahhhhhh instead we have a character who always knows the right answer to things, and he always knows how to fix every issue, and he is always so innovative and outside the box except that he isn't. We get a character who does the same shit as Tamlin but it's ok because he had a good reason not to tell Feyre that she could very well die in childbirth. Uhhhh don't know what that is but uhhh I know he has his reasons because all he has are his reasons.

It would be so easy to hold a mirror up to Rhysand and say "look at this. Look who you are. Do you not look just like Tamlin right now?"

But nooooooooOoOOOo Rhysand doesn't get to be wrong. Rhysand doesn't get to look like Tamlin because Tamlin is evil and Rhysand is definitely NOT I SWEAR.

But yeah I think the point I'm trying to make is that Sarah thinks so highly of Rhysand that he could never do wrong. He could never be like Tamlin, despite the narrative literally telling us the exact opposite.

Like you said, we lost the potential of what feylin could have been if SJm didn't suddenly decide that her audience needs to love Rhysand as much as she does. I think feylin could have been slow and sweet and a story of true healing and learning about one another. I think it would have been kind and steady and lots of "are you ok"s and "I'm sorry"s and "talk to me"s. Everything about Feysand feels rushed and hard and fast and the rest of the world doesn't have time to catch up. It's fucking exhausting to read it ya know what I'm saying.

(also can we talk about Rhysand like dying and Feyre finding the suriel and learning he's her mate and then instead of being like "k let's put a pin in that and fuckin save his life first" she like throws him around and everyone is like "wtf woman" and she's like I neeD tO Be alOnE these people have no idea how to prioritize)

Truly, I think it's innocent to a degree. There is absolutely no harm in wanting people to like your character. The harm comes when you destroy another character with no reason or explanation other than you want people to like a different character. Villain arc? Completely out of left field. You gotta build to that shit or like... Make it so that when you look back you slap your forehead and yell at a wall "OF FUCKING COURSE I SHOULD HAVE SEEN IT"

anyways, SJm treat "ugly" trauma with respect challenge SECONDED.

WELL IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME WEEKS YO WRITE IM HAVING A HARD TIME I know it probably doesn't make any sense I can't find my braincells BUT thanks for the ask @xelly

Tell me all your acotar things I love yo hear them !!

[notebook-13]

BNHA History

Alright! I decided to assemble what we’ve been told about how society has changed since the advent of quirks. So here’s a rough timeline + my speculation.

Distant Past

≈200 years ago

The birth of a glowing baby signaled the beginning of superpowers. Considering the tremendous chaos that followed, I think it’s likely that the onset was fairly rapid—the glowing baby was the first of a lot of people all at once born with superpowers (or, it was the first baby born with a noticeable superpower). Crime skyrocketed, the law became meaningless, humanity came apart at the seams.

Why there was such an explosion of crime and chaos hasn’t been directly addressed; presumably it’s because early metas were violently shunned as nonhuman, and because new powers entailed the opportunity to use them.

Under these conditions, All for One rose to prominence. He used his meta power to win slavish loyalty, granting powers to those who desired them and removing them from metas who rejected them. His manipulation of his devotees was so great that he didn’t need to give them orders: they anticipated his will and acted on it. He didn’t tolerate dissent and crushed those who defied him. (ch193)

AfO’s period of de facto rule is not included in history books (he persists as a myth), so it’s unlikely that he occupied an official, publicly recognized position. But his rule apparently stretches from approximately the advent of quirks till the battle of Kamino Ward. (ch59)

However, AfO’s younger brother opposed him. AfO punished him by forcing on him a “useless” power-stocking ability. This power fused with the brother’s latent ability to transfer his ability, and the brother was able to pass it on. Over the next two centuries, the OfA holders continued to pass it on, largely to whoever happened to be nearby when they were dying instead of to selected proteges. (ch59, 257)

Relatively soon after the advent of superpowers, the police foreswore using them as weapons in order to keep the trust of the public. Vigilantes emerged to fulfill this role, attempting to mete out justice, and at some point the government authorized certain people (heroes) to use their powers offensively to enforce the law. Heroes were heavily criticized at first, but they eventually developed public support thanks to their strict adherence to the law (according to police chief Tsuragamae). (ch56)

According to the bnha spinoff Vigilantes, the government classified vigilantes into heroes or villains based on public opinion of them. (ch13)

MLA Era

How long ago was the Meta Liberation Army active?

Ch232: Redestro weakly implies that Destro was born before the beginning of heroes as a profession. This early date would also coincide with writing legislation to authorize heroes to use their powers to apprehend any other meta who used their ability.

Ch238: the MLA was in hiding for generations, plural.

Ch223: Redestro states the MLA has trained for “many generations”

So…somewhere between seventy years ago and more than a hundred years ago?

Regardless of the exact dates, Destro was born into a borderline period when there was intense prejudice against metas and official effort to coexist peacefully. When his mother defended him by claiming his power was a mere “quirk,” she was killed by a mob.

Sometime later, when the government drafted legislation to (supposedly?) promote peaceful coexistence, they recalled her idea of “quirk” and tried to use it as part of their reform. Destro, now an adult, opposed this and their reform, asserting that this was not the world his mother envisioned when she’d said “quirk.” (ch232)

He rallied metas to his cause, to bar any restriction of meta ability use, and the MLA fought the government for several years before defeat. It dissolved, many of its members in jail, including Destro himself. He penned his autobiography and then killed himself. (ch218)

Post-MLA, Pre-Symbol of Peace

Unknown number of years ago

Villain: “Seems like no one’s willing to break the law nowadays. All this whining about not selling out their friends. It’s a real pain. […] Man, I miss the days before All Might came along… I was young, and this country was a way more impulsive place.” (ch57)

Yagi: “I believed that this country needed a symbol so I started dashing headlong towards that goal. A shining light…hope. A wake-up call for everyone. As I ran, I swore I’d become that sort of man. People always had these worried looks. All the heroes in the world couldn’t slow the rising crime rates. Much more than now…they were truly scared.” (ch165)

This was an apparently cutthroat, impulsive period where efforts to curb chaos continued but found limited success. Crime was on the rise, something Yagi attributed to the idea that there wasn’t anyone (a “pillar”) for people to rely on. (ch93)

≈70 years ago

When Ujiko proposed his “paranormal singularity theory,” he was roundly rejected and mocked. Due to his own struggles with housing multiple quirks, AfO recognized how prescient Ujiko’s warning was, and he reached out to recruit Ujiko. (ch270)

(Note: Ujiko’s use of “paranormal” could mean he proposed his theory before “quirk” became the standard term, meaning “quirk” could be a rather recent change of language.)

≈35 years ago

AfO killed Nana. All Might was eighteen; he subsequently went to America to complete his training.

Symbol of Peace Era

≈30 years ago – Battle of Kamino Ward

Deku: “Ever since he appeared on the hero scene, his strength has won him undisputed popularity. Every year that he’s been active has seen a marked decrease in the appearance rate of villains. His existence alone is a deterrent to villainy.” (ch2)

Gran Torino: “[Stain’s] ideals and opinions…they’re gonna get out there. On the net. In papers and magazines. On TV. This age we live in, for better or worse, is one of suppression. But mark my words—people are gonna be influenced by this.” (ch57)

Shigaraki: “It’s not crazy to imagine that someone could commit an atrocity at any given moment. So why do they smile and mingle like this? Because the laws and rules are built on their individual morality, they’re convinced that ‘No one would ever do that.’” (ch69)

Shigaraki: “The reason these fools can smile and live their lives is cuz All Might’s always got that grin on his face. Smiling wide, as if to say there’s no one he can’t save!!” (ch69)

Deku: “All Might. Was there ever a time you really couldn’t save someone…?” Yagi: “…? … Sure. Plenty of times. Right now, somewhere out in the world, someone could be hurting or dying. It sucks, but I’m only human. I can’t save people who are out of my reach… That’s why I stand tall and smile. I’m the Symbol of Justice. The citizens…heroes…villains…I need to light the way for all of them.” (ch70)

Kid: “Nowadays people expect different things from heroes than they used to. It’s all about the entertainment factor and approval ratings.” (ch144)

Shigaraki: “You heroes pretend to be society’s guardians. For generations, you pretended not to see those you couldn’t protect and swept their pain under the rug. It’s tainted everything you’ve built. That means your system’s all rotten from the inside with maggots crawling out. It all builds up, little by little, over time. You’ve got the common trash, all too dependent on being protected. And the brave guardians who created the trash that need coddling. […] I don’t care if you don’t understand. That’s what makes us heroes and villains.” (ch281)

After about two centuries of chaos, Japan achieved stability after All Might established himself as the Symbol of Peace. All Might was specifically noted to have demolished most organized crime, so that villain teams were relatively rare (ch83, 115, 125). As Shigaraki put it, now people could go about their lives confident of their safety because All Might convinced them that everything will be alright, a hero will take care of them. This was true to the extent that people would flock to the sites of hero/villain battles to take photos and videos.

Whereas, as Twice put it, if you were on the wrong side of the law, then All Might’s catchphrase “I’m here” was a curse, something to fear and loathe. Gran Torino characterized this era as an age of suppression, as in, the symptoms were suppressed, producing superficial stability, but the underlying conditions hadn’t changed.

During this period, the industry of heroism shifted to over-emphasize heroism as public entertainment, rewarding attention-grabbing stunts and PR skills over humbler virtues.

This shift inspired Stain the Hero Killer to enact a purge of unworthy heroes in order to revive true heroism. He deeply impressed society, and, despite his murders, he became a popular figure. His ideals provoked some people to question whether society’s heroes were “true heroes,” while others disregarded his ideals and simply found him cool.

During this era, 80% of the population had a quirk. Whether that statistic was stable or if it was an effect of demographics (ie, most quirkless people are elderly and almost all kids have quirks) hasn’t been specified.

This era could be separated into All Might’s Bronze, Silver, and Golden Ages, each with a different costume.

≈30 years ago

All Might debuted in Japan, and he kicked off an unprecedented era of stability.

5 years ago

All Might fought and “killed” AfO.

Age of Endeavor

Battle of Kamino Ward – Present (ch283)

HPSC: “All Might had it all…power with enough charm to win the people over. The gulf between him and the perennial runner-up was always huge… I doubt we’re gonna find someone that charismatic again anytime soon.”  Mera: While we’re waiting for the next All Might, hero squads with a focus on team unity are gonna have to fill the gap. This order from up high is meant to make some headway on that front… (ch111)

Miyagi (newscaster): “If we’re being honest, I think All Might just got too big for our own good. So big that we lost sight of things. […] As for us, we shouldn’t just passively protect the status quo. Isn’t it our duty to bring back a culture of excitement around heroes?” (ch115)

Kid: “We know what’s up. Mom and dad and the TV all ask the same thing. ‘Are the heroes doing okay?’ …We know. We’re better than them!” (ch165)

Hawks: “That guy earlier, screaming ‘Long live metahuman liberation’…this [rumors of nomu sightings] is kinda like that. They republished some old-school criminal’s autobiography, and it’s flying off the shelves. I’m thinking that’s influencing people. That stuff tends to sell best when society’s feeling unstable, right?” (ch186)

Gentle: “What counts as a spectacle is a question for the current generation. We shall go to the source [UA]—the source that enchants our society.” (ch171)

Newscaster (surveying the stampede of fleeing civilians during Endeavor’s nomu battle): “This is society without a Symbol of Peace!!”  Can’tcha See-kun: “Stop saying that crap already!! Open your eyes before spouting off on TV! Especially at a time like this! Look! Those flames’re still rising up! You see ’em, right?! Endeavor’s alive and fighting!! So don’t give up just cuz the other guy’s gone! There’s still a dude out there risking it all for us!! Can’tcha see?!” (ch189)

Kuraishisu (newscaster): “In the past, a situation like this [the destruction of Deika City], where heroes were forced to make a difficult call, would have earned those same heroes criticism, but I suspect we may be witnessing a critical turning point in this era. A large-scale shift in opinion from criticism to passionate support.”  Uraraka: “Feels like everything’s different ever since the ‘Can’tcha See kid’ did his thing.”  Ashido: “It’s all cuz Endeavor kicked butt!” Mt. Lady: “Y’think the future’s bright? Not so fast!! It might seem like the winds of good fortune are blowing our way, but if you stop and think about the flip side of all this…it’s actually coming from a sense of urgency—it’s a response to danger! These cheers for the conquering heroes are really prayers—a plea that we emerge victorious! They’ve had enough of the showbiz side of heroism and want us to prove our worth for real now!” (ch241)

Mineta: “Not too long ago, she didn’t give a crap about anything except being on camera…” Aizawa: “Mt. Lady’s not the only one who has changed. Every hero out there is being pulled up by the number one’s rising ride.” (ch241)

After All Might retired, uncertainty gripped Japan as people wondered what would happen now. A strong consensus agreed that Endeavor wasn’t suited to fill All Might’s boots, something reflected in how the crime rate went up 3% in the month after Kamino, and reflected in how people suddenly became interested in reading the MLA ideology of rejecting heroes and protecting themselves.

During Endeavor’s battle against the nomu, the press attributed the public’s frantic stampede—ignoring heroes trying to guide evacuation—to the public’s lack of trust in Endeavor (and heroes generally) now that All Might was gone. Public trust improved after the nomu battle, especially thanks to Can’tcha See-kun.

Within a month after the battle, expectations shifted. People had enough of showbiz heroism and wanted the heroes to walk the talk and protect the public against villains, to the extent that comfortable armchair criticism was replaced a passionate support driven by fear of villains.

Miscellaneous Questions

When did “hero” become a recognized profession?

When did the hero ranking system begin?

When did the celebrity culture around heroes develop?

When did “quirk” come into common use?

How old is Yagi? How long ago did he debut in Japan and begin the era of peace?

How old is AfO? How long after the advent of quirks did he come to power?

When did AfO recruit Machia?

When were the nomu invented?

When did humanity pass the point of quirk singularity? (ch193)

[smediumsmeatbae]

14 and 34 for Steve Rogers? If you are doing the NSFW prompts! No worries if you aren’t! Thank you

Thank you so much for requesting this! I apologize that this is so late. September was bonkers for me. Hope you like this! 

TITLE: A Hero’s Sacrifice  PAIRING: Steve Rogers x Reader  SUMMARY: Steve is always sacrificing himself for the good of the mission. What happens when he leaves his teammates high and dry? WORDS: 2,384 WARNINGS: Smut! No one under 18 plz. Swearing, angst in the beginning, bad smut writing *shrugs*. A/N: What??? K’s actually putting some writing out there??? Omg. :D This is my first smut with Steve and my first writing in about a month or so I think. So I’m a bit rusty. Also I suck at summaries so sorry. Lmao. Also, a special shout out to @angrythingstarlight. She has been a constant encouragement and companion through this really bad writing block. Thank you so much, sweet friend! No beta, all mistakes are my own. Please do not post this anywhere else without my permission Likes are amazing. Reblogs and comments are better. 

 --------****-------- 

 The crisp New York air kissed your cheeks as you stood on the rooftop of the Avengers compound. It was a quiet and clear night, crickets chirping softly in the background as the round moon lit the scenery before you and put everything in a hazy glow. This peaceful scene, however, did nothing to quell the anger and anxiety in your bones. The mission had been compromised. Your teammates and you barely got out with your lives, all because your leader, your captain, had to be a goddamn hero. 

Yes he was Captain America, yes he had saved the world hundreds of times. He knew how to handle himself. That didn't mean that he wasn’t infallible. And because he was your superior officer, because the moniker of Captain America demanded respect, there wasn't shit you could say to him. You wanted to punch him, wanted to scream at him, tell him he had been an idiot for running off alone, without a plan, leaving you alone with your teammates clueless as to what to do. 

A goddamn idiot. 

 Not that he'd listen if you could yell at him. Steve wasn't much for following orders if it meant a compromise to his values and morals. Normally, that was what you admired about him, what you maybe even found attractive about him, if you were honest with yourself. You couldn't think about that at the moment. The only thing that came to your mind when thinking about Steve was giving him a good knee to the balls. 

The access door to the rooftop opened and your ears perked up at the sound of it. You turned around, to see who it was. You couldn’t hide the huff from your mouth and the roll of your eyes as Steve came waltzing through. What could he possibly want with you? He knew that you wanted to be left alone when you came up to the roof. 

“Someone better be dying, Rogers.” 

You didn't bother turning around completely to look at him. Your stance was close guarded even before Steve came through the door; arms crossed, head down, scowl permanently etched to your face. Then, when he made an appearance, your whole body went rigid. He was the last person you wanted to see. 

“No, no one’s dying. I just…”  “Then you should know I want to be alone right now, Captain.” Your voice came out more harsh than you intended, the hurt and anger of your feelings oozing out into them. You couldn’t exactly say you were sorry for how you sounded, though. 

“Okay, I’ll just leave then.”   “That makes sense. You love just leaving, huh. You’re pretty good at it, Steven.” “Look, I just got chewed out for two hours by Fury. I don’t need it as well from someone who is supposed to be my friend.” “Your friend?” You spat. “Friends don’t compromise each other’s safety. Friends don’t leave each other hanging in the middle of a battle!” 

He hung his head in that moment and sighed out, putting his hands on his hips. Clenching and un-clenching his jaw, he looked at you as if he was trying to figure out what to say. He looked conflicted and sad and tired. All the emotions and physical exhaustion of the day was catching up to him. Well, you weren’t going to be the one to feel sorry for him. 

“While you’re trying to think of a comeback, Rogers, I’ll be downstairs. The air is getting too chilly up here anyway.” 

As you tried to walk past him, he grabbed your arm opposite of him, blocking you from the door. His eyes were a mix of energies: anxiousness at the forefront, You had never seen him so vulnerable. 

“Hydra was there for me. To kill me.”  “Hydra… but the briefing didn’t say anything about Hydra agents.” You looked up at him, confused. “I spotted them as you and the team were taking down the enemy we actually came for. They were sleeper agents; highly skilled assassins. If I would have stayed there, they would have killed you all just to get to me. I had to draw them away.” “I can take care of myself, Rogers. You should have let us help you.”  “I couldn’t… I couldn’t let anything... “ His voice trailed off and he swallowed thickly as you looked up at him. Was he trying to hold back tears? “Steve…” 

Your hand absentmindedly reached out and cupped his cheek. Your body seemed to forget all together that you were still mad at him. You couldn’t contain yourself though. No matter how pissed you were at Steve, you knew when he needed you and you couldn’t deny him that. He looked at you then, a single tear falling from his eyes, more threatening to find his way down. There was something else there too, something that you couldn’t quite figure out until it happened. Steve’s mouth was on yours, needy and wanting, and also tender and honest. He pulled your body into his with one hand and put the other behind your head, keeping you close to him. 

 “I couldn’t let them have you, you’re mine.” Steve rasped against your lips as he parted away. Your breath was shallow and ragged, as if he had kissed all the air out of you. Leaning up, you kissed him again, this time more sure in your actions, letting him know you wanted this just as much as he did. Steve swiped his tongue along the bottom of your mouth, asking for access and you granted it to him, both of you exploring each other's mouths. Hands were wandering; your hands were tangled in his hair and his hands were moving closer to your ass. God you loved how he towered over you as he kissed you. How his broad shoulders seemed to swallow your frame in his embrace. You wanted more, you needed more. 

“Take me to your room.” You breathed out a whisper, breaking the kiss again. 

Your hands were clinging onto his shirt, pulling him closer, closer, closer to you. You had a desperation to feel him, all of him and if you stayed on that roof any longer, you were going to make that happen in front of all of nature and anyone who decided to also come up on the roof. 

Steve just nodded and grabbed your hand, leading you towards the door. The sexual tension was palpable as you rode the elevator down to his floor and walked towards his room. There was this electricity between the two of you where before there was none. Steve and you had been friends before but he was your superior and while there weren't any rules about dating, he had a moral obligation to distance himself romantically from you. You accepted his decision and kept your distance as well, even if you did have a crush on him. Everything now, after you had both thought you lost each other, after all the intense emotions of the day, after the roof, his moral obligations didn't seem to bother him any longer as he was taking you to his room. 

Once there and the door had clicked shut, he was on you. His mouth slotted against yours, passionate kisses causing shivers to go throughout your whole body. You moaned in response, your hands sliding up his chiseled chest, making their way around his neck. His hands rested onto your hips, squeezing them and rocking them towards him slightly. 

"Been wanting this for so long." He purred as he stroked your back lightly with his fingertips. "You're so beautiful."  "Oh god, me too." You breathed, heat flooding your belly. 

You stood like that for a bit, arms and lips searching each other in the living room, taking each other in. He was so beautiful it sometimes made you ache just to look at him. Now, with his intense blue eyes looking at you, lust blown, you could see the want in his eyes as well. Hands a bit shaky, you took them and guided them down to the buttons on Steve’s oxford shirt, unbuttoning each one. You could feel his hot breath onto your skin as his hands nimbly pulled at your tank top and pulled it up, grazing your skin with his knuckles as he did so. Once his buttons were free, you lifted your arms to help Steve rid you of your shirt. Gingerly, as if you were going to break at the action, he cupped your breasts with one of his palms and lightly thumbed over your stiff nipples. 

“God, you're amazing.” He breathed as he captured your mouth again, still keeping a steady rhythm with his hands but you could feel him holding back. "More, Steve, please." You mewled into his mouth, scratching the back of his neck. "Don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart." He panted in between kisses. "'M enhanced, I can... take it." You urged out your words as Steve caught a soft spot on your neck. "Don't wanna chance it."  "I’ll take you against that fucking wall if I have to, Rogers." You frowned playfully and wickedly at him as you pulled away from his assault on your neck, with great effort. 

A growl ripped from inside him, something coming loose from your words. He picked you up with ease by your ass and started carrying you to where you assumed was his bedroom. You wrapped your legs around his slim torso, body on fire with his touch. His steps were heavy down the hall, making your core bump against him, and it made you even more hot for this man. This Adonis of a man was about to absolutely ruin you and you couldn't be more happy. 

Steve laid you down on the bed and wordlessly started to undress the bottom half of you. He pulled off your leggings and panties in one swift moment, causing you to gasp slightly at the action. You felt the air rush to your legs and between as well, signalling how wet you were. Steve groaned at the sight of you before him, glistening and ready. You sat up to lean on your elbows, biting your lower lip slightly, wanting to see all of Steve as he started to undress as well. The clink of his belt was like a song to your ears and you could already see his bulge straining painfully against his slacks. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he pulled down his pants and boxers, his erection springing free and bobbing below his belly button. A small, involuntary moan slipped past your lips as he leaned onto the bed, making his way toward you. You felt the dip of the mattress around your body as he hovered over you, his blonde locks coming loose around his face. You could feel the heat coming off of his body as his arms caged you in under him. 

Redistributing his weight, he leaned over heavily onto his right arm and took his other hand and ran it down your side. It felt delicious, him feeling all of your curves and you practically purred at the sensation as shivers flooded your body. He got to your lower thigh and hooked his strong arm around it, pulling it over his hip. The heel of your foot dug into his perfect ass as you braced yourself for him; you didn't know how much longer you could wait. 

“Steve, ple---” Before you could get another word out, Steve pushed the tip of him into you, causing you to let out a moan. “What was that, sweetheart?” He smiled cheekily at you. “Just shut up and start moving.”  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned. 

He was gentle at first, letting you get used to his size. Then, once he knew you were ready, he started in on a brutal pace, snapping his hips into you with precision, taking you closer and closer to the edge. You spurred him on as well, demanding for Steve to go harder, faster, to let go. At one point, you were having to put your hands on the headboard above you to keep your head from slamming onto the wooden frame. Even though he was slamming into you at an amazing pace, you a moaning mess under him, he still gingerly swept your hair away from your sweat soaked face and kissed you, checking the look in your eyes to make sure you were doing okay. You would almost be endeared with it if you weren’t so fucked out. 

You could feel yourself starting to come undone, the pressure in your belly mounting like a roller coaster climbing up its first hill. Once you were over the hill, you yelled out in pleasure, your hands gripping tightly onto the rails of the headboard as you rode through your orgasm. You could tell Steve was close as well as his pace became erratic and his breathing was becoming labored. You took your hands off of the headboard and clawed at his back, staring him in the eyes causing him to moan out. 

“Come for me, Steve. You feel so good, baby.” You caught his shoulder in your mouth and bit down. 

He let go, letting out gasps of breath and shouting out, filling you up completely. It caused you to have another mini orgasm from the feeling of his. Sticky with sweat, and completely sated, Steve landed on the bed and rolled over to his side, taking the sheets and covering both of you with them. You rolled over to meet him, hugging his body to you as you laid your head on his chest. 

“Don't ever sacrifice yourself again.” You said so quietly that you thought he didn’t hear you. “Can't promise that, doll.” Steve replied as he lazily stroked your shoulder. “I know. Can’t blame a girl for trying though.” 

As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that he couldn’t. He would always be the man to make the sacrifice play, to be the one to lay down on the wire for his team. You know that you couldn’t, and wouldn’t change him, but there with your head on his shoulder, you took some comfort to know that he was there for now.

--------****--------

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[nikibogwater]

Was sick today and watched one of my absolute favorite comfort films to distract myself. And now, an editorial for you all:

Reasons Tangled is one of the best animated Disney movies (in no particular order):

It is very focused and story/character-driven. There are no wasted scenes or useless characters who are clearly only there to sell merch. And no, I don’t want to hear that Pascal was useless, he was literally Rapunzel’s only source of genuine, selfless love before Flynn stumbled into her life, and he spends the entire movie just making sure she’s safe and happy. Also even if he was useless, at least he’s quiet.

Nothing irritating or cringey, like fart jokes, whiney voices, or meme references.

That being said, holy flip, this movie is hilarious. It uses slapstick comedy in such an effective way, along with punchy dialogue, witty one-liners, and unexpected visual gags. But at no point does the comedy ever overstay its welcome.

The story is very self-contained and intimate--it’s only interested in the fate of its two main characters, and it doesn’t try to convince you that there’s anything more at stake than their personal wellbeing. It is also a very smart re-telling of a classic fairy tale with some much needed updates to the story that don’t detract from the original vibe or appeal of said fairy tale. 

It takes a good hard look at the nature of manipulation and abuse, and doesn’t shy away from showing just how subtle those things can be--which is not something you usually get from a “kids’ movie.” 

Rapunzel is not a superpowered Mary Sue who gets everything done by herself. She’s smart and goal-oriented, but is not ashamed to ask for (or demand, as is the case with Flynn) help when she knows she needs it. She is timid and naïve, but also kindhearted and sweet. She improves the lives of everyone she comes into contact with simply by being polite and accepting of others’ flaws. So no, she’s not a girl-power fantasy heroine, she’s a relatable and realistic young woman, and I personally like that a lot better.

Flynn Rider/Eugene Fitzherbert isn’t a stereotypical Disney Prince. He has depth and complexity, a muddled sense of morality that comes from being exposed to the cruelty and unfairness of the world from far too young an age. BUT HE IS NOT A FATALISTIC CYNIC WHO TRIES TO FORCE HIS BAD EXPERIENCES ON RAPUNZEL, IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT SHE IS AN EASY TARGET FOR THAT KIND OF THING. Once they become friends, he’s even eager to show her the nicer parts of the world, and does his best to make sure she has the happy birthday she deserves. 

Also on the subject of Eugene, even though he initially has no interest in helping Rapunzel achieve her dream, he is still respectful towards her and protects her when the situation becomes genuinely dangerous. Yes, he’s a self-centered prat at the start of the movie, and absolutely tries to manipulate her into letting him out of the bargain, but he’s not a heartless monster, and at no point does he ever entertain the thought of actually threatening or harming her in order to get the crown back. 

One more thing on Eugene: him rediscovering the self he left in his childhood through Rapunzel’s enthusiasm and kindheartedness is a good arc, and it makes him falling in love with her even more believable. 

Eugunzel is one of the best examples of a healthy couple in any Disney movie. There’s no imbalanced power dynamic between them, they are very much a team from very early on, working together as equals. And once they realize how much they truly care for each other, they are both willing to sacrifice anything and everything to keep the other safe. Tangled doesn’t give you that “Oh, love is a flittery feeling in your stomach, it’s the starry eyes and romantic gestures, it’s a feeling” nonsense. Tangled straight-up says “Yo. True love means you’re willing to put yourself and your desires aside in order to help the other person--and I don’t just mean accepting minor inconveniences, I mean actually dying to protect them, if necessary. Love ain’t for pansies, y’all.” 

Unlike other movies (cough! Frozen! cough!), which just had to spell everything out for us in easy-to-remember one-liners that summed up all the major messages in the movie, Tangled never shoves its themes down your throat. It’s most concerned with telling a good story first and foremost, and everything else is woven in there with subtlety and nuance.

The film doesn’t shy away from the fact that the world is messy. It’s not the dark, soul-sucking void that Gothel tried to tell Rapunzel it was, but it’s still unfair and sometimes cruel. But you can always find good, even in the most unexpected places, and that’s why you can’t close yourself off to experiencing the outside world and its inhabitants, even those you might initially write off as “bad.”

This movie is flipping gorgeous, alright? Like, if I had the choice to visit any world from any Disney movie, I would pick Corona, hands-down. Every environment is so beautifully crafted, with intricate, artistic detail. The Lantern Scene is one of my absolute favorite animated sequences from any movie. And the character expressions are so real and evocative, it makes you feel those emotions right down to your bones. 

The voice acting is incredible, and it is the standard to which I’ve held all voice acting ever since I first saw this movie. And no, Mandy Moore isn’t just “another celebrity voice” here. Her voice is actually perfect for Rapunzel because it captures that sweet, youthful enthusiasm that is the core of her character. 

The music is good, idk what y’all are talking about. No, there’s no Broadway power ballads or anything, but it serves the movie well. Also Tangled was more interested in being a good story than having a soundtrack that would be touted and overshared so much and blared in so many grocery stores and waiting rooms that eventually people would become embittered towards it.

And finally, this is not an objective reason why the movie is good, but I had to include it: Tangled is one of the most influential movies in my life. I first saw it when I was 13 years old, and it has shaped my creative style and taste in media more than any other film or book. If you read any of my fanfics, I can easily point out some small element of it that connects back to this movie. If you look at any of my doodles, they are very heavily inspired by the lush colors and expressive faces that defined Tangled. 

TL;DR: Tangled is good, and I want more people to understand that, and not dismiss it as “just another Disney Princess movie.” 

[veliseraptor]

Hey Lise, I was wondering if you could maybe just give me a quick and dirty synopsis of The Untamed characters? I really like your fics and wanna read them, but I have NO idea who anyone is hahaha

I was gonna like. Link to someone else’s rundown of this, but then I decided it might be fun to write my own, which was a mistake. But I make all kinds of mistakes! So unsurprising.

This is going to, by virtue of being a character overview, contain spoilers, so if you think you’re gonna want to watch and want to avoid spoilers then watch out for that. This is also broken down by sect because that makes it easier.

The degree to which I explain the plot here varies wildly and I’m not actually sure how coherent it is. If you want a more detailed rundown that has pictures and shit and also other information, see here; also some of these characters have more than one name, which I’ve noted where the usage of multiple names is likely to pop up in fic.

This is very much QUICK and DIRTY and NOT COMPREHENSIVE, just to underline that a few times. It’s also show focused rather than novel focused, because that’s most of the canon I’m working with. I have also not translated titles here (Hanguang-jun, Zewu-jun etc.) because they just sound better untranslated.

THE JIANG SECT

Wei Wuxian: Also known as Wei Ying or (if you’re nasty) the Yiling Patriarch. One of the two main characters of the show. He died (killed himself) in disgrace, universally reviled as evil, but it’s okay, he got better. Or rather, his soul got swapped into the body of a man named Mo Xuanyu, whose life really sucked and who almost never gets acknowledged by the narrative. Sunshine boy on the outside, but it’s complicated. 

Sort of invented necromancy, or at least perfected it. Will kill you with his magic ghost flute, but mostly only if you deserve it. Mostly. Self-sacrificing to a fault due to basement level self-worth and a tendency to believe that he can handle things other people can’t. Swapped out his ability to do magic to keep his brother alive via nonconsensual surgery. This had a lot of somewhat unexpected consequences, it turns out. Got thrown into a very bad place called the Burial Mounds and came out with new powers and a whole new pile of trauma.

Rescues the Wen remnants from being killed in a prison camp after the war against the Wen Sect; this is not a popular move. Founds a commune with them in the aforementioned Burial Grounds. Also raises Wen Ning from the not-dead. 

Adopted older brother (ish) to Jiang Cheng and younger brother to Jiang Yanli, adopted father to Lan Sizhui, eventual husband to Lan Wangji (at least according to novel canon and many, many post-canon fics).

Jiang Cheng: Also known as Jiang Wanyin, but only if he’s being a little bitch. He technically has a title (Sandu Shengshou) but I don’t remember if it’s ever actually used in the show. The youngest of the triad of Yunmeng Siblings (Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli), and possibly the most dysfunctional. Expresses all his feelings as anger, and he has a lot of feelings. Abandonment issues and inferiority complex the size of the lake that he grew up on. His entire family died and it fucked him up pretty bad, along with all the other terrible shit that happened. 100% Slytherin especially in terms of “protect my own people first and probably nobody else second.” 

Adopted younger brother to Wei Wuxian, biological younger brother to Jiang Yanli. Uncle to Jin Ling (see below). 

Jiang Yanli: I’ll take “oldest daughter who doubled as parent figure” for 500, Alex. Jiang Yanli is relatively quiet and mild-mannered but she loves her brothers very much and will throw down for them in a pinch. Tends to wilt in the face of people treating her poorly; not very good at standing up for herself. A professional at taking care of other people and not herself (Wei Wuxian and she have this in common!). She dies and it really does a number on her siblings.

Oldest sister of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, wife of Jin Zixuan, mother of Jin Ling.

Jiang Fengmian & Yu Ziyuan: Parents of Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng and source of the above’s dysfunction, in a lot of ways. Jiang Fengmian plays favorites (with his adopted son Wei Wuxian) and takes out his feelings about his wife (complicated) by ignoring Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. Madame Yu is straight up abusive; physically of Wei Wuxian, emotionally of everyone else. In her first appearance she walks into dinner and specifically targets everyone’s weak spots, demolishing three children emotionally in about two minutes, then leaves.

This family! It’s a disaster.

THE LAN SECT

Lan Wangji: Also known as Lan Zhan or Hanguang-jun. The other main character. Has a reputation for being very upright and righteous and rule-abiding; is that, sort of, but also kind of a socially awkward, deeply lonely boy who is trying to be a good person and thinks he can get there by following the right rules. Eventually figures out that’s not how it works. Doesn’t make friends easily but when he loves someone it is with all 500% of his heart. 

His circle of people is very small, though. It’s kind of just two: his brother and Wei Wuxian. That’s all! Lan Wangji could use some friends, maybe.

He’s good! Also learns to rebel when appropriate, and “appropriate” especially involves things having to do with Wei Wuxian, for whom he will do just about anything, at least after he comes back from the dead. Before that it’s a little harder. 

Younger brother of Lan Xichen, nephew of Lan Qiren, adopted father of Lan Sizhui, eventual husband to Wei Wuxian (see above).

Lan Xichen: Also known as Zewu-jun. He does have a birth name (everyone does!) but it doesn’t get used in canon. Also parented his younger brother (there’s a lot of sibling parents in this show!). Is the peacemaker, does not like conflict, diplomatic to a fault. Noticed how everyone else is very quick to jump to conclusions and decided he has to take all of the giving of the benefit of the doubt and good faith and “let’s wait and see and not jump to murder” because no one else is going to.

People in fandom give him a lot of shit for being stupid but he is not! He is just conflict-averse and cautious and inclined to reserve judgment on people. It just turns out that he happens to place his faith in the wrong person, which is to say Jin Guangyao. It does not work out. He ends up getting tricked/manipulated into killing Jin Guangyao by Nie Huaisang, and is about to stay and die with him when Jin Guangyao surprise pushes him away and thus saves his life. 

At least one of the Lan brothers gets a happy ending!

Older brother of Lan Wangji, nephew of Lan Qiren, sworn brother/boyfriend of Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue.

Lan Qiren: Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen’s uncle who essentially raised them due to family dysfunction involving a mother who was basically on house arrest (because she killed someone??? not sure what happened there, information minimal) and their father seems to have been absent, and both died before series start. Rigid and hidebound, very much not a Wei Wuxian fan, very strict with both the Lan brothers and sometimes that involves corporal punishment and yelling.

There are no good parents or parent figures in this series.

Uncle to Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen.

Lan Sizhui: Also known as A-Yuan / Wen Yuan. Originally a Wen kid, first adopted by Wei Wuxian when he founded the commune with the Wen remnants, then adopted by Lan Wangji when everyone in his family was killed and also Wei Wuxian. Grew up a Lan with no memory of his past. Lan Sizhui has two dads.

Cousin/brother (??) to Wen Ning and Wen Qing, adopted son of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

Lan Jingyi: Sassmaster extraordinaire; the Lan kid who gets to say everything the rest of the Lans are holding back. Of the younger generation quartet formed by him, Lan Sizhui, Ouyang Zizhen, and Jin Ling. If a Lan kid in a scene is sassing someone, it’s Jingyi.

THE NIE SECT

Nie Mingjue: Also known as Chifeng-zun. Very strong opinions about right and wrong with not a whole lot of room for nuance. Formidable warrior. Anger issues, also daddy issues but we don’t get into those as much. Not exactly the friendliest of fellows but it’s not completely his fault, he’s being gradually poisoned by the malevolence of his own weapon. It’s a thing. Dies as a result of being poisoned by evil music courtesy of Jin Guangyao.

Sworn brother/boyfriend to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao. Older brother of Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang: Mastermind (sort of) of questionable morality, sometimes in order to get revenge for the murder of your older brother you have to wait ten years while building up a reputation as someone utterly useless, then get your old best friend resurrected as part of a series of dominoes meant to demolish your brother’s murderer’s entire life and reputation. Loves art and fans, not a fan of losing his mind to violent sabers as is traditional for the Nie Sect. Smarter than he wants you to think he is, and also just really good at winging it.

Younger brother of Nie Mingjue.

THE JIN SECT

Jin Guangshan: The actual worst. Sect Leader for the first half of the show. Should’ve been kicked down several sets of stairs; the world would’ve been a better place.

Father of Jin Zixuan, Jin Guangyao, Mo Xuanyu, and too many other bastards to list. Possibly Jin Zixun? I’m not clear on that.

Jin Zixuan: Disaster Straight. He comes off as aloof and arrogant but partly this is because he’s just really bad at interacting with people and incredibly awkward. Eventually marries Jiang Yanli after failing to express his feelings for 26 episodes. Shortly thereafter ends up dying when he’s fisted by Wen Ning (through the chest, you filthy animal). 

Husband of Jiang Yanli, father of Jin Ling.

Jin Zixun: The other actual worst. When Jin Zixun is having fun no one else is, and when Jin Zixun is not having fun no one else is either. Just generally a tool. As far as I can tell has no redeeming qualities. His ambush of Wei Wuxian provokes the rolling disaster that results ultimately in the deaths of (in order) Jin Zixuan, Wen Qing, Jiang Yanli, and Wei Wuxian. 

Cousin of Jin Zixuan.

Jin Guangyao: Also known as Meng Yao and Lianfang-zun, the former before he gets promoted by his absolute bastard of a dad. He’s complicated! A good boy, also responsible for a lot of the bad things that happen, with varying degrees of culpability depending on who you ask. Son of a (in everyone’s words, ever) prostitute, and he’s really got a problem with it. Made some valid points but also got possibly too much revenge on people who hurt him, including some preemptive revenge on people who might have. Does a lot of murder but mostly via other people or evil music. Gets kicked down the stairs twice, which if you ask me is a pretty good reason to be kinda worked up about things.

His hat is very silly and I will not pretend otherwise.

Dies at the end and it’s real sad, if you ask me. Incredibly gay for Lan Xichen, and who can blame him? 

Son of Jin Guangshan, half brother of Jin Zixuan, sworn brother/boyfriend of Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue. 

Jin Ling: Part of the quartet of juniors including Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, and Ouyang Zizhen. A mess of a child. (Half)-raised by Jiang Cheng and it shows. Spoiled brat but also just like. Brimming with loneliness and desperation for someone’s approval. 

Son of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, grandson of Jin Guangshan, nephew of Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao (and Wei Wuxian, and Mo Xuanyu, and too many other bastards to name, he’s got a lot of uncles). 

Mianmian / Luo Qingyang: Mostly known as Mianmian, which is her nickname. She’s technically a servant but Jin Zixuan is her best friend. Ditches the Jin Sect when they start being jackasses about Wei Wuxian in a seriously epic mic drop moment. Actually lives to the end of the show which makes one female character!

THE WEN SECT

Wen Ruohan: The first Big Bad of the show. Pursuing world domination by the power of the Yin Iron, aka evil metal that lets you control corpses. It doesn’t go well for him. 

Dies at the hands of Jin Guangyao - going, at the time, by Meng Yao.

Father of Wen Xu and Wen Chao.

Wen Xu: The oldest son of Wen Ruohan; he barely appears but he does exist. Or did, he doesn’t make it very long.

Wen Chao: Absolute worm of a human being. Like Draco Malfoy in early Harry Potter, but with more killing people. Dies an absolutely horrifying death courtesy of Wei Wuxian, but he did throw Wei Wuxian into a place he was supposed to horribly die in, so I don’t feel that bad for him. 

Younger son of Wen Ruohan.

Wen Qing: Incredibly gifted physician, can probably fix anything, including transferring a golden core from one person to another which no one has ever done before. (That’s how Wei Wuxian’s ended up in Jiang Cheng.) Starts out as determinedly loyal to Wen Ruohan basically to protect Wen Ning and keep him safe, but keeps ending up helping our protagonists basically against her better judgment. This does not earn her any points with the Wens, and being a Wen does not earn her any points with anyone else. 

Ends up getting swept up by Wei Wuxian when he finds her destitute in the street and they charge off to save her brother together. Subsequently lives in the Burial Mounds commune up until things go to shit and she goes to give herself up with Wen Ning in the hopes of mitigating damage after Jin Zixuan dies. She is executed.

Has a non-thing with Jiang Cheng because they’re very alike in ways that mean that, under the circumstances, they keep missing each other.

Older sister of Wen Ning, sister/cousin (??) of Lan Sizhui, adopted older sister of Wei Wuxian, sort of.

Wen Ning: Also known as Wen Qionglin, but like, once in canon. So you probably won’t see it much. Neither he nor his sister are actually related to Wen Ruohan - they’re from a branch of the family but serve him. Wen Ning doesn’t get to have a lot of nice things. He saves Wei Wuxian’s life (after Wei Wuxian saves his), and (along with Wen Qing) helps get Jiang Cheng out when he was captured by the Wens and protects Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli after their family and sect are killed. 

After the Sunshot Campaign he is killed by Jin cultivators (or almost, it’s complicated) but brought back to unlife by Wei Wuxian. Unfortunately this makes him vulnerable to control to make him do things like, say, kill Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun. He and Wen Qing go to be presumably executed in an attempt to mitigate the damage to Wei Wuxian/maybe?? save his life; Wen Ning gets kept in a dungeon for sixteen years and comes back when Wei Wuxian does. 

Younger brother of Wen Qing. brother/cousin (??) of Lan Sizhui, adopted younger brother of Wei Wuxian, sort of.

Wen Zhuliu: Mysterious assassin/bodyguard of the Wens, we know almost nothing about his backstory save that he owes them some kind of debt and he and Yu Ziyuan seem to have some kind of history. The main thing is that he’s capable of destroying the golden core of cultivators, aka rendering them an ordinary person devoid of special powers, forever. Gets killed by Jiang Cheng, whose golden core he destroyed. 

Various Wen Remnants: You don’t get a lot of individual characterization from these folks - basically they are the remains of the Wen Sect after the Wen Sect is defeated in the war (called the Sunshot Campaign) that forms the arc of the first part of the show. Pretty much everyone wants them dead. Wei Wuxian rescues them and takes them off to the Burial Mounds, where no one else wants to go, and builds a commune with them, which works for a while until it doesn’t anymore.

They all die. It’s bad.

YI CITY CREW

These got long because I felt like I had to explain more about plot stuff.

Xue Yang: The gremlin! Will cheerfully murder just about anyone at the drop of a hat, he doesn’t really need a reason. Driven initially by a revenge quest for the guy who crushed his finger when he was seven; he kills his whole family, which is a reasonable response when you think of your own life as worth significantly more than anyone else’s. Subsequently and also during fixated on Xiao Xingchen. Kind of a genius?? but he’s pretty low key about it.

Really involved with the plot in a lot of weird ways. Introduced Wen Ruohan to the Yin Iron and taught him how it functioned-ish, worked with Jin Guangyao for a while on necromancy stuff, after the inevitable betrayal ended up getting picked up by a now blind Xiao Xingchen (more on that later) and a-Qing, and lived with them in domestic semi-bliss for three years while also tricking Xiao Xingchen into murdering a lot of people, up to and including his sort-of-ex-boyfriend Song Lan. Turned Song Lan into a zombie, sort of. Fell apart when Xiao Xingchen died (killed himself, on account of Xue Yang demolishing his entire life, whoops) and spent the next decade or so trying to bring him back from the dead.

Dies messily, as you might guess, and I’m still sad about it.

Xiao Xingchen: Grew up on a secret mountain isolated from the rest of society, came down from the secret mountain to help make the world a better place, it really does not work out for him. Travels around for a while being best friends/boyfriends with Song Lan, getting poetry written about him; unfortunately then he and Xue Yang run into each other which is widely regarded as a bad move. Things get messy, Xiao Xingchen ends up with his eyes in Song Lan’s head and blind, he adopts a teenage con artist (see below) and rescues Xue Yang (who he doesn’t know is Xue Yang). 

Three years of domestic bliss (sort of) ensue, with the wrinkle that while Xiao Xingchen’s sword Shuanghua can sense corpses so he can still hunt things, it has a glitch where sometimes the corpses it senses are in fact living people that Xue Yang has poisoned and cut out their tongues. Whoops. 

After he kills Song Lan (whoops), Xiao Xingchen finds out from a-Qing who he’s been living with and, uh, is upset about it. Xue Yang drops the bomb of “oh yeah so you’ve been killing people this whole time and also! yeah! killed Song Lan too! eyyyy” upon which Xiao Xingchen, his entire world wrecked, kills himself and shatters his soul.

He ends the series basically fragments of soul in a little pouch being carried around by Song Lan. When I put it that way it sounds kinda funny but it’s really not.

A-Qing: Teenage con-artist who pretends to be blind and adopts Xiao Xingchen after stealing his money (he notices, but he also just gives it to her). Knew Xue Yang was bad news but didn’t know how bad. Smart cookie. Xue Yang blinds her and cuts out her tongue (he just loves doing that) after she tells on him to Xiao Xingchen; she gets her revenge by leading Wei Wuxian & co. to figuring out what’s going on, and ultimately enabling the first mortal-wounding of Xue Yang. 

Unfortunately, also dies.

Song Lan: Also known as Song Zichen, rarely. A Daoist priest (I think that’s right?) and “rogue cultivator” (in the sense that he’s not affiliated with any sect). He is definitely affiliated with Xiao Xingchen. “Affiliated with.”

Ends up getting caught in the vortex of Xue Yang when his entire temple-family is killed and he’s blinded; says some harsh things and a guilty Xiao Xingchen trades out his eyes to pay him back for being the cause of Xue Yang targeting his temple, then vanishes. Song Lan spends the next long time trying to track him down, eventually finds him in mid-domestic bliss (sort of) with Xue Yang (yikes), promptly attempts to kill Xue Yang, ends up getting his tongue cut out and himself corpse-poisoned and killed by Xiao Xingchen, who thinks he is a random evil corpse instead of his best friend/ex-boyfriend. Xue Yang turns him into a zombie controlled by him. He gets better (from the control, he’s still a zombie).

Literally the only one of the Yi City Crew to make it out alive and he’s not technically alive.

MISCELLANEOUS OTHERS

Ouyang Zizhen: Part of the juniors quartet with Jin Ling, Lan Sizhui, and Lan Jingyi. A budding romantic. Very good, has the misfortune of having Sect Leader Ouyang as a dad, but at least it’s not Sect Leader Yao (see below).

Su She: Due to a confluence of factors having to do with jealousy but also class/rigid hierarchy issues, ends up as Jin Guangyao’s right hand henchman. He’s very loyal when you’re actually nice to him. Really doesn’t like Lan Wangji. 

Sect Leader Yao: Mostly just there to have really bad opinions all of the time.

[merakiaes]

A Second Chance - John Shelby

Pairing: John Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This is a part two to “A Choice”. It’s not proofread and I was severely sleep-deprived when writing this so I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes or if it sucks xD 

Wordcount: 4927

Summary: Four years after leaving John and the Peaky Blinders behind to start a better life, you return to England and run into old friends. 

Part One - A Choice

Life without John was just as painful as you had imagined it to be. The nightmares about your brother’s death that only he had been able to keep at bay had returned already the first night away from him, having you wake up screaming and drenched in sweat in the middle of the night.

After leaving your shared home without as much as a bag of clothes, you had gone straight to London where Ada was residing with Karl, and she had opened up her home to you without as much as a doubt, letting you cry into her arms, listening to you as you talked about your situation and doing her absolute best to soothe you during the night.

The next day, you had sat down and talked about what you were going to do for the future. She offered to go back to Small Heath and talk to her family, get their assistance on the divorce you wanted.

But she was different than the rest of them. She was on your side, he didn’t agree with her brothers’ morals and ways to make a living.

Tommy had never liked your attitude for the business and more specifically John’s part in it, and Arthur didn’t breath without his younger brother’s consent, so you knew that that going to them for help would never be an option. 

And either way, all of them held the same belief; that no one divorced a Shelby. So Ada did the only thing she could.

She gave you some of her clothes, helped arrange your travels, gave you enough money to be able to live on wherever you ended up, until you could find yourself a job, and sent you off before John and the rest of the Peaky Blinders could come looking for you.

Ironically, they came knocking at her door only an hour after you had bid each other goodbye at the docks, John more or less storming inside the house and rushing through every room on the look for you while Tommy, Arthur and Polly tried to hold a calm conversation with Ada.

But Ada wasn’t about to give up your location, and they knew it. And they couldn’t do anything about it, because they didn’t have anything to hold against her.

All she did was tell them that you were safe, and that you were better off without the constant death and bloodshed, which only broke John’s heart even further, because even though he hadn’t been willing to admit it at the moment of your argument, he knew that she was right, and it hurt.

It hurt to know that he wasn’t good for you.

And he wasn’t the only one in pain. The nightmares of only your brother dying quickly turned into both of them dying, and sometimes, even Tommy and Arthur, too. And the dreams didn’t stop.

Even three and a half years later, you would wake up drenched in your own sweat and trembling with fear every night.

You had ended up in Australia after a long, long journey. There, you took up work as a nurse at an orphanage, managing to land yourself employment already on your first day there as the former nurse had recently passed away in very tragic circumstances.

You mourned the loss of the love of your life, even more so when you had to work with children all day, every day; children that could have been yours and his in the future.

Every time you would sign your name on a paper, your heart would break a little more, as you still carried his name seeing as you hadn’t gotten an official divorce. 

And you couldn’t be bothered to send him divorce papers, knowing very well that Tommy would most likely be able to track you to your locations by sniffing the papers like the absolute bloodhound he was.

You stayed completely miserable for six whole months, falling into a deep depression and feeling that life no longer had anything to offer as you had no one left. 

But with a bit of encouragement from your new-found friends, you pulled yourself together and sought out your own happiness, adopting two of the very children you had been caring for in the past months.

Their names were Sheryl and Henry and they were siblings.

Sheryl was a seven-year-old girl with bronzed skin and a head of big, golden curls and dimples that could make anyone melt on the spot.

They had been made orphans when their parents had passed away in sickness four years prior, but despite the unfortunate lives they held, Sheryl was one of the brightest souls you had ever met.

Henry was nine at the time, a lot paler than his younger sister and a lot more reserved and careful. 

While Sheryl never seemed to be able to sit still, always having to run around and talk to everyone she came across, Henry was quiet and loved to sit in silence and read.

He was far too mature for his age and probably smarter than you. He had an amazing way with words and wanted to become a doctor when he grew up. He was also very good with numbers, which always made you think of John.

They made your life easier, and soon, although never stopping to love John, you found yourself moving on. You packed away the jewelry you had been wearing upon first arriving in Australia, that John had gifted you throughout the years, and hid it away along with everything else that reminded you of him.

Four years had passed since you left Small Heath. Sheryl was now eleven and Henry thirteen, the three of you living an as normal life as you could get.

You had kept in contact with Ada during the first year, but after that, you had stopped receiving letters, and you guessed they just kind of forgot about you. 

But you didn’t blame them. 

You probably should have forgotten them a long time ago, too. But for some reason, despite not regretting your decision, you didn’t.

But you knew you would have been a lot more mentally damaged if you had to watch John die. So this was the best for everyone.

And you liked it in Australia. You liked the heat, the nature, the people, and most of all; the calm. Bar fights and brawls on the streets was still something you saw every once in a while, but the violence wasn’t half as bad here as it had been in Birmingham.

But you could only stand the heat and sun for so long.

Four years after your arrival, you took the kids with you and left for London, starting a new chapter in your lives.

Seeing as you hadn’t heard anything from Ada the past few years, you had no idea what she was up to these days. 

After getting settled into the inn you would be staying at for the first week in London, just until you made up your mind whether you would be staying permanently or only for a while, you headed off to Ada’s old house with the kids in tow, taking them out sight-seeing on the way.

Upon arriving, however, a woman you had never seen before opened the door, and informed you that the woman who had lived there before her had moved to America with her son a year prior.

It saddened you that you wouldn’t be able to see her and introduce her to Henry and Sheryl, but you were happy she had been able to go off into the world on her own like she had always wanted.

You could admit you were anxious to run into any of the other Shelbys, knowing you’d have to introduce them to your children, but unlike when you had first left England when the Peaky Blinders had been on everyone’s tongues, you hadn’t heard a single word about them.

It made you slightly panicked, fear that they had finally met their ruler and gotten themselves killed filling your body, but you didn’t dare ask anyone about it, scared about what you might have found out if you did.

So you just put on a brave smile, showing the kids around the capital of your home country, the three of you having a jolly good time.

You had just entered the food market, the very same one that had been there every Thursday even back when you still lived there, and Henry and Sheryl had run off to the nearby kennel to pet the puppies running around outside in a small enclosure.

While they played with the small balls of fur, you took the opportunity to stroll along the stands of food and vegetables, starting to plan dinner for the evening to come.

You collected the things you thought you would be needing and paid for them, packing them in a brown fabric bag. You turned on your heel, still fiddling with the bag in your hands, when a voice suddenly spoke from right beside you.

“(Y/N)?”

You sucked in a breath at the familiar voice speaking your name, with the same smooth tone that you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Your heart instantly picked up speed in your chest and you breathed shakily as you slowly turned around.

“John.” You breathed, your eyes growing big with disbelief as you spotted him, your heart beating even more violently once you caught sight of him.

And he was just as shocked as you were, looking as pale as if he had just witnessed a ghost.

“(Y/N). I-“

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” Another voice joined the conversation before John had the chance to say whatever it was he had been about to say.

The shock quickly melted off and was replaced with a wide smile as a now short-haired Polly emerged from the crowd in the market.

“Polly!” You greeted her, and she smiled a smile to match your own.

“Oh! It’s so good to see you!” She said, wasting no time in taking you into a hug. 

You hugged her back, growing sad at the familiar feeling of the motherly love you had gotten from her all while knowing her niece and nephews.

As you broke apart again, she threw a look over her shoulder, waving her hand. “Boys!”

There was no doubt in your mind who she was calling for, and not even half a minute later, Tommy, Arthur and another boy you couldn’t quite recognize emerged from the crowd, as well.

Arthur was the one to spot you first, and a cheeky grin immediately spread on his face. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He cursed, shaking his head. “If it isn’t (Y/N). It’s good to see you nice and well, lass.”

“Hello, Arthur.” You chuckled, accepting the embrace he offered upon reaching you, hugging him quickly before turning to look at Tommy.

You offered him a smile and a nod of your head. “Tommy.” You acknowledged, and he tipped his head back to you, taking the cigarette out of mouth to answer.

“(Y/N). You’re looking good.”

Offering him a smile, you thanked him. “Thank you.”

You then turned to the third boy, or young man, was better suited, narrowing your eyes slightly as you scanned his freckled face, trying to find something familiar that could put a name to his person. 

And it all fell into place when you caught the small scar on the side of his lips, a smile yet again rising to your lips.

“Finn?”

The boy in question nodded his head, a faint smile pulling at his lips, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You look so different, I barely even recognized you!” You said, and met him halfway for a hug. He was now taller than all of his brothers, towering over them with a good margin.

“Yes, well, it’s been a while.” He chuckled, and you could sense immediately that he was nothing like his brothers. But then again, you had known that already when he was just a little boy.

“Four bloody years, it’s been.” Arthur jumped in, laughing slightly.

You stepped back after hugging Finn and opened your mouth to speak again, but before you could get another word out, a shy voice called out from behind you.

“Ma?”

You whipped around, turning to face Henry and Sheryl who were now standing behind you, watching the Shelbys with curious and shy eyes.

You put on a smile, turning to face them completely. “Yes, darling?”

Henry let his eyes linger on the strangers behind you for another moment, before turning to look at you with his soft, careful eyes. “Can we have some money for treats?”

Sheryl was smiling expectedly at his side, and you looked between them, shaking your head. “It’s a Wednesday and you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Please.” Sheryl begged, pouting and looking up at you with her big eyes, while Henry just kept smiling shyly.

“Just this once?”

You let your eyes shift between them for a moment, all too aware of the Shelbys watching the scene unfold. You sighed, reaching your hand into the pocket of your coat.

“Fine, but just a small bag, yeah?” You told them, fishing out a note form your wool jacket and handing it over to Henry, who instantly lit up in a big smile.

“Yes!” Sheryl cheered, and Henry was quick to nod his head.

“Promise, thanks.” He agreed, coming up to you and leaving a hasty kiss at your cheek before running along to the candy store, Sheryl not far behind, yelling out a quick ‘hello’ at the Shelbys as they passed them.

Watching them disappear into the shop at the other side of the street, you turned back to the Shelbys, who were all looking at you with different expressions.  

“You’ve got kids.” Polly was the first one to speak, eyes wide with surprise.

You could only smile, and nod your head in confirmation. “I do.”

“They look a bit old to be yours.” Arthur was confused, glancing over to the shop inside which they had just disappeared.  

“I took them in from the orphanage I worked at in Australia.” You told them, and Arthur nodded.

“So that’s where you ended up, ey?”

“Yeah, it was a journey to say the least.” You turned sad at that, thinking back to how rough the first period away from your home and the people you loved had been. Quickly, you shook away the sadness and forced yourself to smile, trying to look your happiest.

“You’re all looking good!” You hurriedly attempted to change the subject. “How have things been going for you?”

“We legitimated the business.” Tommy joined in on the conversation for the first time so far, taking a drag out of his cigarette. “Everything we do now is legal. No underground work, no Peaky Blinders. Just… strictly, political business.”

To say you were shocked at this was a big understatement. Almost as if out of instinct, your eyes shot up to the peaky caps on their heads, and only then did you realize the razor blades were nowhere to be seen. Could they really have given up on the gangster way of life?

You could barely believe your ears.

“I’m glad it’s been going well for you.” You answered, quickly covering up your shock, but as Tommy’s words registered in your mind, your eyes automatically shifted to John, only to find he had already been looking at you with an unreadable expression.

The others watched as the two of you entered a staring competition, completely disconnecting from everything else going on around them – including them.

Polly smiled smugly, inspecting your facial expressions for a moment before hooking her arm with Finn’s. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” She said. “It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N). Come by for tea someday, and bring the little ones.”

You nodded your head, answering. “I will, thank you.”

But not once did you tear your eyes away from John’s as you spoke the words, barely even noticing the others slipping off and down the street again, leaving you to yourselves.

A heavy silence was left over the two of you, only standing there staring into each other’s eyes, completely oblivious to the people shoving their way past you left and right.

The sides of his head were still clean-shaven underneath his cap, he still dressed in the same grey suit, only much fancier and more expensive-looking than the ones he used to wear before you left.

He had a scar running over the side of his jaw, without a doubt created by some kind of blade, and unlike keeping his face clean-shaven like he always had before, he now had a short, short ginger stubble.

He looked much older than he had when you left him, despite only four years having passed, but you guessed the consuming line of work they had been involved in did that to a person.

He still looked good, though. His blue eyes were still sparkling and framed by the long, thick, dark eyelashes you had always loved so much, and his lips were still pink and full. He looked as dashing as ever, standing in front of you a new man.

“You’ve changed.”

John was the first one to break the silence, officially breaking you out of your trance.

But still, you didn’t move your eyes away from his.

“Time changes people.” You stated simply, blinking slightly.

He gave you the smallest nod, sniffling. “Suppose that’s a good thing.”

“Not necessarily, but in my case, yes, I would say so.” You answered, nodding your head too. “I feel very fortunate to be where I am today.”

He said nothing else for a brief moment, only staring at you and suddenly growing very hesitant.

“Did you ever…” He began, trailing off. He breathed in through his nose, his eyelashes fluttering a few times. “Did you ever settle down again? With someone else?”

You had expected the question, probably before he had even thought of it, and wasn’t shocked when it came. 

A sad smile rose to your lips at that, and a small sigh left your nose as you shook your head. “No one could ever compare to you, John.” You admitted in a whisper, and at your words, his demeanor faltered entirely.

“I missed you.” He said, taking a small step closer to you. “I still miss you. I never stopped. I never moved on. I tried to, a couple of times, but I couldn’t.”

“John…” You started, feeling your heart picking up speed in your chest again as you watched him come closer and closer. But you didn’t move.

“No, I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He interrupted you, shaking his head. “Everyone told me I would forget you with time but here we are four years later and I still love you like I did back then. And you’re standing here, looking more beautiful than ever, and you moved on.”

“I don’t regret leaving you.” The words came out of your lips before you could stop yourself. “You have to know that.”

Guilt filled your entire body the moment you had said it, only increasing when witnessing his face fall into one of sadness. But it was true what you said. He did have to know it.

“I know. And I understand.” He, surprisingly, agreed. “I started understanding the second I heard you had left for good. I tried to find you, I wanted to come after you and give you what you wanted, but Ada refused to tell me where you were. She said I wasn’t good for you, that you deserved better.”

The guilt started gnawing at you from the inside once more, your eyebrows knotting together. “John-“

“And she was right.” He interrupted again.

You sighed, finally breaking eye-contact and adverting your eyes to the ground as he came to a stop right in front of you. 

“John… I don’t know where you’re trying to go with this, but after all this time apart, we would never work. We didn’t back then, and we wouldn’t now.”

“You’re wrong.” He protested almost at once. “I can see why you would think that. But you’re wrong.”

You carefully brought your eyes back up to meet his, biting down on the inside of your cheeks. “I’m happy you’ve all turned your lives around for the better, I really am.” You told him quietly. “And I wish you all the very best, because you deserve nothing less. But I’ve got my own people to look after now.”

“What about me?” He asked. “I know you still love me. I know you better than you know yourself, and if you didn’t love me, you would have walked away long ago.”

“You knew me. Knew.” You corrected him. “But you said it yourself, people change.”

“You have your kids to look after, but you are my people. I want and have to look after you like you look after them, your happiness is all that matters to me.”

You took his words into consideration for a moment, wrapping your arms around yourself and squeezing your eyes shut. But you just couldn’t. Up until this point, you had been under the impression that you had suffered so much because you couldn’t live without him.

But you realized now, as you stood in front of him once again, after four whole years apart, that it was the fact that he had chosen the life as a thug over you that had hurt you the most.

“It didn’t matter back when it should have mattered.” You whispered back finally, having to squeeze your eyes shut even harder in order to keep the tears building up at bay.

Your heart was screaming at you to just grab his face in your hands and kiss him, forgive him for everything and pick everything up where you left off, but after being his second choice once, you just couldn’t trust his words.

Letting out a shaky breath, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying your best to rid of the stinging tears. You looked up at him and gave him one last look.

“It was nice seeing you again, John.” You whispered. “Give Ada my love the next time you see her, yeah?”

He looked down at you, and you swallowed when you realized he was done talking, turning around without another word and starting to head for the candy shop.

Your feet felt like they were made of concrete as you walked, and your heart felt just as heavy in your heart, if not even heavier. 

You didn’t know it was possible for an already broken heart to break again, but here you were, feeling the already shattered organ splitting into a thousand pieces once again.

“(Y/N).”

You stopped in your tracks at the sound of his voice calling out your name, your breathing turning slightly shallow and your eyes growing wide.

You knew you should have probably just kept walking, gotten the kids and gotten out of there. You knew the only thing you shouldn’t have done was turn around. 

But as he called after you, stopping you from leaving like he hadn’t the first time around, you couldn’t help yourself, your body moving all on its own and turning you back around to face him.

Your eyes met his in an instant, and wordlessly, you watched as he brought his hand up to his neck, reaching inside his collar and pulling out a chain. He grabbed the front of it and gave it a tug, successfully ripping it free from around his neck.

He looked down at the piece of jewelry, fiddling with it for a moment, before holding it up, and your eyes instantly widened at the sight.

“Is that-“ You began, breathless, having to cut yourself short in surprise.

John nodded his head, holding the small ring in between his fingers, slowly walking over to you as he spoke.

“It’s been four fookin’ years since I last saw you but I still love you like I did back then.” He told you, his eyes never leaving your face, and your eyes never leaving the familiar engagement ring.

He stopped in front of you, looking down at you with pleading eyes. “Come home, please.” He begged. “Give me another chance. Give us another chance.”

“John-“

“Mom.” A voice suddenly came from beside you, and both you and John whipped your heads around to find Henry and Sheryl standing off to the side, each of them clutching a bag of sweets in their hands.

Sheryl was giggling quietly to herself, and Henry was smiling at you, giving you once of those looks only Henry could give; the kind that made him look so much older than he really was.

“The appropriate response when the love of your life is proposing to you is to say yes.” He spoke, and you instantly widened your eyes at his words, even more so when Sheryl joined in, nodding her head.

“You should kiss, too.” She said. “It’s in the rulebook.”

You furrowed your eyebrows lightly. “Rulebook?” You mumbled quietly under your breath, thinking to yourself, but didn’t get much time to actually form an answer as John spoke up again.

“You should listen to your kids, (Y/N).” He instructed you, causing you to turn back to look at him. “They might not be yours by flesh and blood but they’ve got your brains.”

You stood frozen, not knowing what do nor say. Were you really ready to rely on John’s promises of making a better living for himself again? After all, you had only bumped into each other less than five minutes ago.

You guessed you could take their word for it, but in reality, you really had no idea what they were up to nowadays. A lot could change for the better over the course of four years, but a lot could have changed for the worse, too.

Having gotten lost in your thoughts and doubts, you had completely missed the way his hands had raised to your face, only coming back to reality when feeling the warm, rough skin of his palms brush against your cheeks. 

And when the connection between your skin was made, it was like all of your doubts just melted right off in one second.

You had missed John this entire time, more so than you would ever be able to put into words, but you hadn’t realized how much you had craved his skin against yours until it actually happened again.

Your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes fluttered shut, and as if your body was moving all on its own, you wordlessly tilted your head up to meet him halfway, your lips pressing together within the next second.

And from the moment they touched, you were clinging to each other like there was no tomorrow, like the other would just disappear into thin air if you let go, four years’ worth of missed feeling spilling into one single kiss.

Your hand came up to grab at the back of his neck, fingernails lightly scratching the scalp of his head while his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

You didn’t break apart for almost a minute, lips moving together roughly and desperately. If you would have been able to, you would’ve never broken apart again, but you needed air, and soon had to do so, although very begrudgingly.

Your chests were heaving up and down violently against the other’s when you came apart, eyes opening and staring into each other’s. 

You stayed like that for a moment, forehead’s pressed together, until you turned around to look at Henry and Sheryl who were still standing to the side, now grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats.

You raised an eyebrow at the oldest at the two, taking a small step away from John. “Now, what does a thirteen-year-old know about love?” You asked, referring to his previous statement of encouragement.

At your question, his grin only widened. “You have a box labeled ‘John’ hidden at the back of your closet and you stare at it every time you open the wardrobe to pick out your clothes. I may only be thirteen but I’m not stupid.” He answered, and you could instantly feel your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as John chuckled beside you.

You didn’t get much time to dwell upon your adoptive son’s remark, however, as John grabbed a hold of your face once more, turning you back to look at him. 

“Will you come back?” He asked, looking down at you with pleading eyes.

And this time, no doubts clouded your mind, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. 

“Wouldn’t want to break the rules in the rulebook, now would we?” You questioned playfully and smiled widely as you watched him slide your wedding band back onto your finger.

He smiled, and you could just about make out the corners of his eyes starting to glisten before he wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, hugging you into his chest and burying his face in your neck, smiling into your skin.

“I have a box labeled with your name, too.” He said, voice slightly muffled.

And just like that, you went back to being lovers and remained that way this time around.  

[spyvstailor]

GRAVEYARD DIRT & SALT

CHAPTER FIVE: BENNY

“South Carolina abouts they have this critter called a 'Boo Hag', said to be a skinless sort of vampire and they like to ride you to death and steal your breath. If they like you, they keep you alive, sucking your air, sustaining themselves. But if they don't, if you struggle or make them angry, they skin you and wear your skin. Just walk around like they wear pants or such. But they can't stay riding you forever, they gotta be home and in their skin before sunrise or they become trapped forever without skin.”

Please support me, I’m still out of work because of COVID, so anything you can toss my way can really help. I’m going to need to feed my kitties soon! Reblog this if you can’t donate to please support a nearly starving author!

Read the newest chapter here below the cut if you want, since ko-fi can be unreliable!

Chapter Five: Benny

When everything went to hell, Benny had been at the top.

  Maybe he still was? He had no idea how Vegas handled the swarms of the dead.

  Probably no better than Atlanta.

 God, what a fucking hole in the ground to be caught undead in. Why had he even agreed to come here to the middle of Satan's nutsack to make a deal?

  By the time he waded through the packed streets, filled with fleeing idiots, days had passed and the wave of infection had spread.

  When he made it to the edge of the city, it was almost completely overrun.

 And his private helicopter, that last hope he had of leaving Georgia, was useless, no pilot. So, he was wading his way through the land of good ol' boys and peaches, heading home.

  Because what else did he do? Just stay stuck in Georgia with the undead on his ass? Forever? The idea seemed to tickle him. It was divine retribution for all his sins. This was hell. He was in hell. Well, thanks but no thanks. He'd take his chances back in Vegas with his well-stocked warehouse and his penthouse in The Golden Rose.

  God, he missed The Golden Rose. Melody's pretty little voice chirping 'Hello, welcome to The Golden Rose', every time he passed through the lobby, or the weird night gamblers bellying up at the bar around two in the morning, sipping on complimentary Flash-bang's, the signature drink created by Bruce behind the bar. Sure he had more employees than Melody and Bruce, the others, the late-night workers who always were just a little bit off, but friendly enough. The kids fresh out of school, old enough to work at the casino, who tried too hard to impress the boss. Sven in the kitchen, who never seemed to leave, always yelling at him for coming down and making those 'nasty little sandwiches' as he called them, the open-faced ones made with peanut butter and sliced bananas on plain white bread, the sandwiches Valerie had gotten him hooked on when they were first dating. They were her favourite midnight snack and they had fast become Benny's too.

  Valerie.

  Ten years. Holy fuck had it been ten years?

 Plucking at a stretchy beaded bracelet he wore, Benny snapped it hard and shook off his thoughts of Valerie. They didn't do him any good in this new society.

  From where he sat. Perched on the railing of the bell tower, looking down across a darkened Georgia, barely peeking over treetops that surrounded the convent, Benny exhaled.

  Annie had given him the stink-eye at their new spot, full of bird shit and leaves and any kind of crap that the winds blew into the little tower, but Benny had sat her down gently onto the bearskin rug and the sleeping bag on top of it and promised her they would clean it up in the morning.

  He didn't tell her what he was thinking, he didn't tell a lot of people what he thought, no one wanted to hear his bullshit. His old man used to say 'if I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you' and he meant it.

  The truth was, the trouble on the wall, the nun dying, had reminded him how dangerous it was. He had become too soft and spoiled lately, the dead were thinning out and he had forgotten what it was like when the outbreak first happened when it was really bad.

  They were safer in the tower, should anything happen to the gate, there was a heavy church door to open and a narrow ladder to climb before anything could get at them.

  And, sitting on the trapdoor that led to the ladder, Benny knew Annie was safer here than anywhere else.

 It had been a long, long time since anyone had relied on Benny and he took his job seriously. Nothing would happen to Annie as long as he was alive and kicking.

  During his flight from Atlanta, he had somehow wound up arm in arm with Annie and her mother Laila. They had sort of run across each other and just kept running in the same direction.

  Benny had immediately liked Laila, she was tough as hell and he had to admire that about her. Not that he knew much about her or the kid, they weren't real big on talking and he also had to admit he liked it that way.

  But Laila had his back and he had hers and they made a good team, but when she went out one morning to scrounge for breakfast and never came back he didn't think for a second the dead had gotten her. He knew her, she was a survivor.

  Something else happened.

 So he stuck around the area, hoping he'd find something which would let him know where Laila had gotten off too. And somehow, sticking around the small town, he wound up running into that marine and that Grayson kid, and when the kid started talking about men taking his sister, Benny started thinking. He wasn't a gambler by nature, despite him living in a casino in Las Vegas, but he would bet everything he had that when they found these men, he would find Laila.

  And Jesus, if he didn't also kind of like that marine.

 Not that he'd ever admitted that out loud. Admitting you liked someone, admitting you wanted to be someone's – what? Drinking buddy? At his age? Embarrassing.

  But he liked him just fine. The Cajun was a tall puppy dog, but there was something about his optimism that balanced Benny's nihilism nicely.

  On the wall below, three nuns kept vigil over Sister Mary Patrick's body. They couldn't retrieve her until morning, so they kept a quiet, mindful watch.

  And just like those nuns, Benny would keep a silent watch over Annie all night long, he would sleep when she was old enough to take care of herself.

 Sitting by the nuns' water pump in their convent yard the next morning, he watched Annie as she brushed her teeth, brushing his own with the travel toothbrush he kept in his jacket pocket. He liked to travel as light as possible, gun, bullets, knife, toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, and while he'd never admitted it, reading glasses for emergency reading, because fuck if he wasn't getting old.

  He noticed the marine traveled with a goddamn apartment on his back and that was just fine for him. Marines were trained for distance and roughing it, they were pack mules. And just as dumb.

  He needed more bullets for his tidy little Springfield, come to think of it.

  “She's a good kid,” someone said from his left. It was a male voice and not Grayson's.

 Benny ignored the marine for a moment, not wanting to chat about the fucking weather or some bullshit, spitting his toothpaste foam into a bucket of water to be dumped over the wall with the rest of the handwashing and face washing water.

  There was a nun's body being buried out behind the church right now and he didn't feel like jibber-jabbing.

 “We did our best last night,” the Lieutenant said, easing down beside him on one of the folding chairs the nuns had set up around their water source. For what? Water pump gossip? Maybe.

  “Dead nun though,” Benny replied, sipping at some water to rinse his mouth.

  The marine was quiet beside him, gazing out across the dewy lawns.

  “I didn't mean to put the squeeze to you,” he began. “Yesterday in the church. I know you don't like talking about yourself.”

  “Sure you did,” Benny returned.

 Withdrawing for a moment to regroup, the marine went on, “fine. I did a little, but...it's hard trusting people nowadays, yeah?”

  “Hard to trust people before this bullshit,” Benny shot back.

  “Fair.”

 There was a tension to the marine that told Benny he was gearing up for something, angling to reach for something during the entire conversation.

  “You got something to say, don't pussyfoot,” he said calmly.

 “Not that I don't believe you, but I want a reassurance that you're not trying to fuck us on this deal with the copter,” the marine said.

  Benny nodded. “Yeah, I thought you'd think that. I wouldn't blame you. But it's real.”

  “Well, we go in smart then,” the man stated.

  “We go in smart,” Benny agreed, stretching out his legs and resting them on another chair across from him.

  Beside him the marine remained seated, quiet in the growing daylight.

  “We done?” Benny inquired.

  “You ever hear about the boo hags?”

  “The what?”

 “South Carolina abouts they have this critter called a 'Boo Hag', said to be a skinless sort of vampire and they like to ride you to death and steal your breath. If they like you, they keep you alive, sucking your air, sustaining themselves. But if they don't, if you struggle or make them angry, they skin you and wear your skin. Just walk around like they wear pants or such. But they can't stay riding you forever, they gotta be home and in their skin before sunrise or they become trapped forever without skin.”

  “And the moral of this story is...?” Benny prompted.

  The Lieutenant shrugged, folding his arms. “Nothing really, I just think about the Boo Hags sometimes.”

 “My granny used to tell me about this guy she knew from Corpus Christi, used to hate wearing pants. He wasn't crazy or anything, just said they were too hot and itchy, so he'd walk around in his boxer shorts everywhere.”

  Around them, the nuns went about their morning routine, chores, and preparing for their morning mass after burying their fellow nun.

  “Well,” Benny said. “Maybe he was a little crazy, I guess.”

 Annie came to him and climbed into his lap, watching the activity around them quietly. It was a strange sort of calm to the morning, despite the funeral. It felt like the soft morning's Benny had at his grandparents, warms sunlight, peace, and quiet before the hectic activity of the day. It brought him back home to a home he mourned every single day of his life, a home he had only fleetingly as a boy before it was replaced with the boozy smelling mornings of his parents home.

 “Mornings like this feel like my Mamere getting ready for church,” the Lieutenant said. “She used to sing when she was getting ready in the mornings, and she'd sing,

There's a land that is fairer than day,

and by faith we can see it afar;

for the Father waits over the way

to prepare us a dwelling place there.”

 In his lap Annie rest her head against Benny's chest, listening to the marine as he sang in a fine, deep baritone. Benny knew the song well, it was his grandmother's favourite. When she finally came and took him home, to his real home with her and his grandfather, away from the chaos of his mother and father's lives.

  They were the only people who ever really loved him.

 The hymn brought back memories of Sunday mornings dressing for church, of Sunday evenings with the smell of roast chicken and his granny's baked apples, sweetened with brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon, sticky and warm.

  He didn't live with them long. They were hit by a drunk driver and killed two years after he moved in with them. Benny went back to the chaos and Edna and Merle were buried in Oak Grove.

 At the sound of the gentle singing, a few nearby nuns gathered in closer, curious, and quiet. Raised Baptist by his grandparents at least, Benny joined in with the marine, singing only very, very faintly, as though he were doing it for his granny and no one else. He would sing in a voice only barely above a whisper.

  It was Annie who joined in the singing, almost eager and happy to do something that wasn't fighting and surviving.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

We shall sing on that beautiful shore

the melodious songs of the blessed;

and our spirits shall sorrow no more,

not a sigh for the blessing of rest.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

In the sweet by and by,

we shall meet on that beautiful shore.

To our bountiful Father above

we will offer our tribute of praise

for the glorious gift of his love

and the blessings that hallow our days.

 “My granny used to sing that one too,” Benny finally admitted, in the stark silence at the end of the song. “Yours lived with you?” He asked.

  The Lieutenant nodded. “Yeah, my grandparents raised me.”

  “Where were your parents?” Benny asked.

 “Due to circumstances beyond my control, nowhere in sight,” the Lieutenant replied, a grin in his voice. “My ma was hospitalized most of my young life,” he added in a more serious tone. “The man who impregnated her was...not important.”

  “Pump and dump?”

  “Of sorts, not really given permission for it though,” the Cajun finished tentatively.

  Benny felt his blood chill a little. “I get you.” He said, not wanting the marine to have to open up old wounds.

  “You?”

  “I lived with my grandparents for a while, yeah. My parents were...selfish pricks, they lived in Galveston.”

 “I get you,” the marine repeated his own words. Easing back in his chair, the Cajun asked, “where you from? Where'd you grow up? You said you lived in Forth Worth?”

  “My grandparents lived in Fort Worth, so I guess I moved between there and Galveston mostly.”

  “What happened to the twang? You lose it or hate it?” The Lieutenant inquired.

  Benny chuckled. “I haven't lived there for years.”

  “Can never really shake the twang though, yeah?” The Lieutenant teased.

  “I guess not. You? I know Cajun when I hear it, but where you from in Louisiana?”

  “Eunice.”

 “Eunice? That's...down south, isn't it? Way down the bayou,” he mocked the Lieutenant's accent, prompting the marine to laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah it is.”

 “Annie,” he turned to the kid in his lap. “Why don't you head inside the infirmary, okay? I'll be right there to get you set up for the day.”

 The girl slipped down to the ground and nodded, heading obediently for the building where Grayson was already getting his shit together.

 Sullen, a little pissed that he was forced to face things he had buried long ago in Texas, Benny remained quiet for a good long time. Long enough that eventually the anger dispersed.

  Benny sat still and silent so long that eventually, it was just him and the Cajun, who remained, squatted down on his haunches, resting.

  “We're running on a very short timeline,” Benny finally said to the man.

  The marine nodded. “Yep.”

 “That girl, if she is still alive, won't be so young and vibrant if she's with these men, I can tell you that right now. Feel like with no law, men will become animals, women will become prey.”

  “What's going on in that tiny bird brain of yours?” The Cajun asked.

  “You need to stay here and train up some of these damned nuns, right?”

  “Yeah.”

 “Think you could trust me?” Benny asked suddenly, turning away from the middle nothing he was staring at and pining the Cajun with a look.

 For a good long while the marine eyed him back, blue-grey eyes hard and scrutinizing. At rest the man's face was regal, but villainous, betraying his genuine kindness, at rest his face was the face of a man you didn't want to fuck with.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “You're going to have to know so,” Benny urged.

  “Alright, I know I can trust you.”

  “It might be riskier, but time is important, isn't it?”

  “What's your plan, fancy man?”

 “When I was poking around the church earlier, I spied some priest shit, a get up for a proper man of the Lord. Might give me a pretty good shield, might get me close enough to those men if I can find them, to get inside their group.”

  “Espionage?”

  “Whoa, slow down there Bayou-bred, that's a big word for you.”

  The two men hushed up as Grayson began to head over towards them.

  “Fuck off, Grayson!” Benny shouted.

  “Fuck you, assclown!” Grayson snarled back, veering off in anger towards the wall and the gate.

  “That kid is going to murder you in your sleep some night, paon.” The Lieutenant mused.

  “Ah well, he's a good kid, needs toughening up. Mouthy little fuck though.”

 The two men settled a little again, their ruffled feathers smoothing out in the tranquility that followed the exchange between Benny and Grayson.

  “You could get yourself killed ducking in on a group like a priest. If they find out you're not or if they happen to find out what you're up to.”

  “I know,” Benny replied. “But I'm good at it.”

  “Good at it?” The Lieutenant asked.

  Benny smiled. “Getting into places I shouldn't be as someone I'm not.”

  The Cajun was quiet, before sighing. “Okay. Cut the shit, what the fuck are you?”

 “I'm goddamned good at what I do. You just worry about these nuns. When I head out, you need to do one thing for me. You just need to trust that whatever happens once I leave this convent, I'm not going to fuck you over. Annie will stay here, she'll be my guarantee that I won't let anything happen.”

  “Okay.”

  “You tell anyone you need that I ran off in the night, just not Annie. You tell her I'll be back. You need to do this for me. Can you do this?”

  “I don't like handing the reins over, but...you're right. Time is important and these nuns can't be left alone. Splitting up might be the best bet for everyone. I'll play my part.”

  “Pact?” Benny offered, holding out his hand. He knew it was childish, but he wanted God (if there be any) to witness his honesty. For once in his goddamned life of other names, other faces, he wanted some higher power to see his bluffing ass telling a truth.

  The Lieutenant leaned back a little, before saying, “brothers. It makes you blood. You don't cross blood.”

  “Brothers,” Benny swore, the two men shaking hands firmly.

 Releasing hands, the two men sat back a little, trying to look like two men just sharing a conversation, as Mena poked her head out of the convent cloister and started their way.

  “We meet up tonight, dead of night when everyone is asleep, in the back room of the church,” Benny said softly, hurrying before Mena could join them.

  The Lieutenant nodded.

  “Gentlemen,” Mena greeted in the high toned, pretty magnolia blossom voice of hers. Pure sugar, pure south. “Good morning.”

  “Why Miss Mena, you're as pretty as a bluebell this morning,” Benny teased, mocking her southern accent.

 She offered him a stern, but sparkling warning look, the corners of her mouth lifted a little like a cat. She looked like she was grateful for the teasing distraction, grateful because otherwise, it was pure mourning and fear that remained should she not have anything to distract her from it. “You may mock me all you want, Mr. Malone, but I lost one of my flock last night and I'm not in the mood. Now, we've buried the poor woman, and we were promised training. The sooner the better, I think.”

  “Are you thinking of staying? You and Annie are very welcome to.”

 They had gotten the nuns started with whatever makeshift weapons they could find and while the Lieutenant gave them a rifle handling and maintenance crash course, Mena had once more sidled up beside Benny as he stood in the shadows of the eastern side of the church, watching the chaos, while idly thumbing through a small bible he had found in the church.

  “You're thinking of the wrong man,” he replied, motioning with his head at the marine. “He's probably yours for life though.”

 She smiled. “We love having you here, Mr. Malone. All of you.” She hesitated, before adding, “I sort of forgot how boring convent life can be until you all arrived to shake things up. Granted, we suffered a loss, but...I think we're stronger with you and the Lieutenant and even Annie and Grayson. We're no longer cloistered, we're a community center, a...a home.”

  He opened his mouth about to say something, before considering it, finally he relented. “I know a nun's faith is sacred to her, but...why did you become a nun? You seem...unhappy with your lot.”

  “I wouldn't say unhappy,” she replied. “I'm ungrateful in a small way. I became a nun to help people. Work missions and aid the poor and those most unfortunate. I suppose, I just...never felt like I was helping much here. Feel sort of immured behind these walls.”

  “Immured?”

  Before Mena could answer his question,  the Lieutenant joined them, easing against the church for a rest in the shade.

  “So?” Benny asked him.

 “Well, they don't like the idea of hitting anyone, seem hesitant, but I think when push comes to shove they know how to do it.”

  Scoffing, Benny turned to Mena. “What about you, debutante? Wanna fight with the others?”

  Mena laughed. “I'm afraid I don't care much for fighting.”

  “You need to learn how,” he went on.

  “I know how to throw a punch, Mr. Malone,” Mena argued gently.

 Inhaling calmly, Benny scooped the nun up easily in one move and had her stomach perched on his shoulder as she dangled over it in shock, her legs and knees digging into his chest in shock.

  “So you're telling me,” Benny began as Mena struggled to be put down, trying to maintain her dignity while being treated like a sack of flour, “you know how to prevent being carted off by someone like this?”

  “Mr. Malone, please?!” Mena shouted, panicked. Her ever calm facade breaking into a sort of girlish embarrassment. Shrill and just a little tremulous.

  “Don't break the nun,” the Lieutenant warned with a small grin.

 Sensing the rest of the nuns' attention and maybe wanting to cheer them up just a little with a distraction from the death of Sister Mary Patrick, Benny perked a little more, hefting the woman on his shoulder as she squirmed.

  “Are you kidding me?” He demanded loudly. “I'm two steps away from giving her a noogie. This is fun. I'm going to hold her down and snicker-snag on her if she can't break away.”

  “Don't you dare! Put me down!” Mena shouted as the rest of the nuns began to notice the noise and started wandering over towards them curiously.

  “Look at how small she is,” Benny laughed. “I could toss her over the wall into a pile of leaves like a little mouse. Hey, give me a hand, I want to try playing keep-away with this shrimp.”

 “Are you seriously bullying me right now, Mr. Malone?” Mena demanded, still draped over his shoulder, her veil fluttering to the ground, all dignity lost. “Lieutenant, please?”

  “I can't step into another man's training ring,” the Lieutenant lied. “It's not courteous.”

  “Courteous?!” The nun hollered.

  “Think if I put her down and follow her she'll lead me to her pot of gold?” Benny asked, spinning with the nun.

  A stray knee from the poor nun hit Benny in the mouth and he reeled back a little, blood drawn.

  “Alright, play time's over, kids,” the Lieutenant stepped in, moving to take Mena from Benny.

 As soon as the Cajun set Mena right again, kneeling to get her veil for her, she was puffing up like a little ruffed grouse and twirling around to poke at Benny in the chest.

  He was too distracted by the taste of blood on his lip to notice.

 Behind them the nuns that had gathered were all trying to conceal their amusement at the scene, a few of them giggling into their veils, some turning their soft laughter into mild coughs.

  “Serves you right,” Mena stated. “The indignity!”

  Benny, idly licking at his torn lip, grinned and held his hands up. “Hey, okay. Put the guns away, shrimp, you win.”

 “Blood has been drawn, no harm done,” the Lieutenant said. At Mena's sharp look, he amended that statement to a soft, “maybe?”

  “I am an Abbess,” Mena snarled, whirling on Benny again, her little finger pointed at him like a rifle. “I deserve a modicum of respect.”

  “A what?” Benny asked, pocketing his hands. “Hey, don't get mad, country mouse, you said you could handle yourself, and boy, did you sure prove me wrong.”

  “I,” Mena began, a little louder than her normal soft-spoken Southern belle coo. She stopped short and seemed to inhale, calming herself. “I...will not let you goad me into a fight, just to prove myself capable, Mr. Malone.”

  “One punch,” he pushed. “Just one solid punch and I'll leave you alone.”

  Mena was quiet, still trying to smooth her habit and veil back into place after her manhandling.

  “It might give you back a bit of that lost dignity,” Benny added in a whisper, leaning towards her.

  “Sock him, Mother!” One of the older nuns shouted.

  “And just like that the teachings of peace and forgiveness of Christ have been forgotten,” Mena murmured.

  “If you punch him then he'll stop being a bully,” another nun suggested.

  “I don't think Sister Mary Patrick would approve of this,” another nun pointed out.

  “Like it nothing, she'd love to see this cheeky man popped in his cheeky face,” yet another nun added.

  “I will not,” Mena declared. “We are not animals and I refuse to hit a man without due cause.”

 “He just picked you up like you were a duffle bag, just hit him in his pretty face and get it all over with,” Sister Mary Agnes, one of the few nuns Benny could tell apart suggested. “I would,” she added, before crossing herself quickly in a form of silent absolution.

  “Aw,” Benny gushed. “She thinks I'm pretty. Come on, Abbess, just give me one solid punch and prove yourself capable. Come on,” he went on, “I know there's an animal concealed under those robes of yours, let the lioness out.”

  “Lieutenant?” Mena asked.

  The tall man sort of took a thoughtful step back on one foot and considered it quietly, before he answered with a simple, “hit him.”

  Mena was quiet, sizing up Benny for a bit.

  He could see her small hands curling into fists at her side and tightened his jaw to take the hit.

  Instead, Mena's hands relaxed and she shook her head, turning to Annie who was watching.

  “We don't hit people who don't deserve it,” she explained to the child. “A lady must always take the high road.”

  “As short as she is, the high road would be the best option,” Benny murmured.

  Mena leveled her chin almost indignantly, still looking at Annie.

 “Good for you, Mother,” Mary Elizabeth said. “Remember Matthew 5:39. But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.”

  “If he keeps taunting her I'll show him both cheeks,” one of the older nuns grumbled.

 Benny laughed to himself. He didn't know much about each individual nun yet, but he knew he liked the older nun with just that one sentence.

 “We are not a boxing club,” Mena went on. “Though we will train to defend ourselves, senseless violence is never the right path. Despite how much a man may want to be hit by a lady.”

  “It's always been my dream,” Benny added playfully.

  “I'm gonna hit him for you,” the Lieutenant broke in.

  Laughing, Benny backed away, hands up. “Okay, I wanted to get hit, not knocked out today.”

  This seemed to break up the gathering, nuns moving off, heading back to their training.

  Mena, still a little fired up, remained for a moment.

  “No hard feelings, Thumbelina,” Benny said. “I just wanted to see your form.”

 “I'm sure you felt enough of my form while I was riding high on your shoulder,” she returned a little bitterly, before walking off.

  Benny sidled up beside the Lieutenant, still grinning. “She was real mad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Has kind of a temper.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I kind of liked it.”

  “Easy now.”

  “Don't tell me you've never thought of picking her up,” Benny went on. “She's so fucking small.”

  The Lieutenant smiled. “I mean, I could.”

 “Hell yeah, you could. You could pick me up, big guy.” As they walked off, heading for the infirmary, Annie following behind, the fancy man added, “but don't ever fucking try, because I will lay you out.”

  Chuckling, the Lieutenant opened the infirmary door for the shorter man and said, “you could never, little fancy man.”

 Inside the infirmary Grayson sat on his cot, reading a well-thumbed copy of some real crime book, looking bored and still angry.

  “Hey kid,” Benny greeted. “You need to learn some fighting too or do you think you'll pull some karate moves out of your ass when the time comes?”

  “Could kick your ass,” the kid grumbled.

  “Want to give it a try?” Benny offered sincerely. “See what you got?”

  “You have, like, thirty years on me, think I'd win, grandpa,” Grayson replied.

  “Only one way to find out.”

 “You think you'll be ready to head out tomorrow morning?” The Lieutenant asked the kid, playing his part perfectly to Benny's delight. At least the marine had a poker face. “We have to get to that airfield before noon if we want to find proper camp before dark.”

  “I was ready two days ago, what have you two been doing?”

  “Keeping these nuns safe first and foremost,” Benny said. “You know, about eleven lives versus one? Using our brains.”

  Grayson glowered at him.

  “Can the shitty attitude, we're trying,” Benny went on firmly.

 “Tomorrow,” the Lieutenant said firmly, breaking up the tension, “we will continue on the hunt for these men. Right now, I have to head out to get something for dinner for all of us.”

  “Not taking your life partner with you?” Grayson asked.

  “Surprisingly progressive, kid,” Benny mused, folding his arms. “I don't even think it's an insult.”

  “More observational than insulting,” the Lieutenant added.

  “You could do worse than me,” Benny teased.

 “Could do better too, paon.” The marine retorted dryly, offering Benny a small grin as he grabbed up his rifle. “Don't kill each other while I'm gone, yeah?”

  “Can I hang him from a flag pole again?” Benny asked. “Seems to be the best way to take the bite out of him.”

  “Fuck you, Benny,” Grayson growled.

  “That is no way to speak to your elders, son!” Benny replied.

  “Come on, kid. Let's head out for a hunt.” The Lieutenant said, stepping in calmly.

  Grayson jumped up, eager to finally help, but couldn't resist grumbling, “don't call me 'kid', old man.”

  “Don't call me old, son,” the Lieutenant murmured, ducking out of the infirmary after the boy.

  Alone in the infirmary now with Annie, Benny inhaled and turned to her.

  “You like those two?”

  She shrugged.

 Looking at the child in his care, Benny wanted to say something to her, to emote. But emotions were never his thing, once he opened that pandora's box they wouldn't stop. So he reached out and ruffled her hair, the two puffs on top, at least.

  He liked the kid, he really did. Hell, he could almost admit to himself that he loved her and if it wasn't for circumstances and his fucking weak need to be helpful, he wouldn't be leaving her at the convent.

  There were mornings, before they ran into the marine, that he would wake up from light, cautious sleep, to find her sitting up and watching him.

  She never said much, and he always wondered what was going on in her undeveloped little noodle, she didn't even really speak much even when Laila was with them. Horrors, he assumed, something that kept Laila on edge and wary of their surroundings, haunted the two of them and when Benny found the mother and child, or rather when they had found him, they were almost feral.

  He assumed it was something to do with the wedding ring on Laila's finger, of the way it took Annie months to finally take his hand without him telling her to.

  She kept close to him now, she had lost her father – as far as Benny knew, and now her mother and the child was wafting on the breeze, drifting around with no moorings. Nothing to tether her to safety and comfort, but for him.

  And Benny hated that it had to be him that poor girl relied on. He wasn't reliable, not to people who loved him – at least. He had cut his moorings a long time ago, or...maybe they had rotted with Valerie. Moldering in the grave with his beautiful wife, her cold hands clutching the last strands of the rope that had kept him from drifting.

 He didn't mind being tethered by Valerie, he liked it even. Whenever he'd go off and come home, he had a home to come to. She would be there, bright and smiling, her flower garden always in bloom, it seemed, even in the cold Rhode Island winters, when the wind came across the Atlantic frigid and cruel.

  She had died in the winter, or the early spring, rather. March. The witches tit of a month, the cold, brown spring.

  Valerie wanted to be buried, not cremated, so they had to wait another month before she could be buried.

  Benny was gone long before that. He had left the night she died, just walked away.

 He liked the poetic idea of their beautiful home and everything in it rotting with his wife, like the idea of her garden drying up and withering. No one deserved her things, or her garden or even dare come near anywhere she had walked.

  If he could, he would have built a stone wall, higher than the one that kept them safe at the convent, wider than it needed to be, all around Rhode Island. He would have kept everyone from that state. It would become a shrine to Valerie. His angel. Patient and sweet and everything he didn't fucking deserve.

 So with no option to do any of that, he burned Rhode Island from his mind, it didn't exist in his world. It was a crater, with his wife dead in the center.

  Everything he owned, everything that remained clinging to him when he walked away, was thrown into the ocean to fucking disappear. Except for his wedding band, wrapped like a napkin ring around a rolled-up photo of her, that he kept in his sock, secured by the knife strap he wore.

  When he began to feel too alive, he would torment himself, like a form of self-harm, only instead of cutting his body, he wounded his soul. He would unroll that photo and wear that ring and he would feel every moment of sorrow all over again.

  Was that healthy? Was grieving like that right? No. He knew it was sick.

 But life was fucking sick, because she was good and he was not, and she died, starving to death because the cancer that had started in her uterus had swept viciously through her body, into her stomach and everything she ate, would be thrown up, black and diseased. And she withered fast, like a rose when the frost touches it.

  But she didn't wither fast enough not to suffer.

 And even now, with the fucking infected, or the dead, whoever you asked, when they ravaged and tore people apart, he somehow lived. At first, he wanted to live, it was human nature to fight to survive.

  Valerie wanted to live too, and she died. So he would live for her if only to eat all the pain he couldn't eat of hers.

 And then he had Annie and Laila, and while they were never anything more than people surviving together, Benny had formed an attachment, the first kind of real attachment to the two of them. He had begun to re-weave that tether that had rotted away from Valerie and then one morning, Laila was just gone.

  She had left a note, she always did when she went out on her own to scavenge.

  But she never came back.

  And Benny felt another tether begin to rot.

  He was a man struggling to hold on to a handful of sand in a wind storm.

  So he held Annie's tether tight because he knew she held his just as tight.

  Yes. He did love the child.

 He wished the world was better for her, but he thanked the chaos and the randomness of numbers that he had her, and if these men had Laila, if she fell prey to them, he would get her back if she was alive and he would hand over the tether that Annie held that connected to him, back to her mother.

  But he was still stunted and fucked up emotionally, so all of this, loving the kid and wanting everything for her, came out in a hand rubbing the top of her head. Because Benny's parents didn't hug and Benny didn't know what to do with a child, he and Valerie had never had one and they never talked about having one. And then she died and he had never been around children except when he was one.

  So he tousled her hair and thought to himself that maybe someday he'd be able to express himself to someone else.

 Maybe someday Rhode Island would exist on his maps again. Maybe Valerie would finally rest in peace because he could move on and grow and learn to be a human being.

  Or maybe he would die trying to get Laila back to her mother and that girl back to her brother and maybe there would be no lesson for him to learn, no more room for him to grow.

  Maybe Georgia would become to Annie what Rhode Island was to Benny. Not because of him, he didn't assume the child held any love for him, she was only clinging to him because she was lost, no perhaps she would bury Georgia behind a wall, because of her mother, because of her father, because of the dead and because every day she woke up, she had to see a corpse.

  No child should ever have to live in a real nightmare.

  Or.

 Or maybe someday, Annie would stitch Georgia back together, maybe there could be hope for her future. The dead were thinning out and maybe her mother would return and maybe she'd find happiness, though he knew she would still have nightmares about the dead, he had nightmares about the dead, about Laila and Valerie and Annie, all roaming across the wastelands of his dreams, their eyes cloudy, milky with rot, because the cornea's had no blood flow, their fingertips turning black, their skin waxy and bloated.

  Since it had begun, Benny had seen too many children among the dead, small forms, corpses that hungered, but never seemed to eat, only tear and shred and maim.

  The thing was, the dead or the infected didn't make very loud sounds. They shuffled and they slogged, their feet dragging, but they didn't moan like the movie zombies, they would give off mewl-like moans. Something almost like the air just rising up from their bloated bellies. It was soft enough to miss if you weren't listening for it. And it wasn't often like they were sleeping and then would moan or when they mimicked and exhale of air. They were near silent forms moving like manifest destiny towards eternity.

  Beside him, Annie was very much alive and he would make sure she stayed that way. Benny was nothing if resourceful and he could use those resources to the best of his ability.

  If brute strength and survival were what the Lieutenant did best, Benny's abilities were subversive action and artful manipulation.

[mnogorgannik]

2 10 n 11 :)

this is basically an essay im so sorry. watch how hard i can infodump (ill put this under a cut hopefully it works bc sometimes tumblr decimates the keep reading things if theyre in asks)

2. Who’s your favorite of the Bound? What do you think of the different ideologies they have? Which of the factions are you most aligned with?

WE ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER I AM A PETER LOVER THROUGH AND THROUGH!!!!!! oh baby i love that morally questionable architect. pretty early on in getting into pathologic (it’s coming up on a year now...) i thought about peter stamatin too hard and now i’m here. but really i find him to be such a fascinating character!

the thing about pathologic that i love is how almost every character can be as complex as you want. pathologic does an excellent job of implying a lot of character traits while only exploring some in further detail, which in some games is frustrating but patho does it so well! it consistently hints at traits and lets you fill in the details yourself. peter’s character is extremely interesting to me... and maybe a little more relatable at times than i want to admit lol.

i think i’ll talk about both stamatins though! their dynamic hurts me a lot. i’ll start with andrey bc i’ve been thinking about him lately. although i’ll bounce back and forth between both stamatins.

i’ve said this before but i’ll say it again.... andrey’s role as a protector who inadvertently hurts the people he cares about really gets to me. he is not a shield but, in his own words, a battering ram. and the problem is that battering ram has a recoil.

i have to wonder how that mentality of his came about, anyways. the implication is that it’s always just been him and peter, so did he take on that role because there wasn’t anyone else to do it?

in his efforts to protect peter from... military, i believe, he kills four people. which leads to daniil getting mistaken for andrey, which leads to daniil getting shot. and almost dying. he protects peter but to a smothering extent, peter even says he’s been suffering for ten years bc of andrey which is a LOADED line. he protects on a physical level but he kinda fucks up on the emotional.

there’s a horrible irony in peter and eva being the people he cares about the most and both attempting suicide. with eva once she’s missing he immediately goes running off trying to look for her, and . ahh i can’t remember right off hand what exactly he thought happened. but ik he was probably expecting a fight. with peter he says that after that he’ll never let peter leave his side, at least “as far as his knife can fly”... it sounds cheesy but the one thing he can’t save anyone from is themself.

and god the way andrey bases his ENTIRE sense of self worth on peter fucking hurts. they’re not peter and andrey, the architects. they’re Peter And Andrey, The Architect. (thinking about “one architect, two brothers” here.) andrey thinks he’s larger than life and all but he’s constantly living in peter’s shadow. their theatre of death positions come to mind here, with peter standing up, looking down at andrey. but andrey is on his knees in front of peter, arms limp to his sides.... separated by a wooden beam...

peter’s side of this dynamic is fascinating too. his dependency on andrey is. ow. leaving all practical matters and decision making to him... there’s this resentment (That’s Fine I’ve Been Suffering For Ten Years Because Of Him) and lack of communication that especially shows through for him.

while in p2 andrey completely crumbles if peter dies, peter doesn’t seem to care...... at all....?? which hopefully is elaborated upon in p2. he’s willing to talk to aspity about worrying if andrey is angry with him but he can’t bring it up with andrey himself. when he asks how andrey is doing he stops and says andrey is a “tough man” and can handle anything. in general, while it’s definitely there for andrey, themes of dependency are really glaringly obvious for peter.

one of my favorite peter things i’ve talked about before is still his ego!!! peter has a gigantic ego!!! he really does think that even though he’s hit the ceiling and can’t go any further he is still “a true architect” and “the rock upon which is built the stairway to tomorrow”. he has a blunt edge to him and he doesn’t ever tell you more than he thinks he needs to which i love. if he doesn’t want to tell you something he isn’t gonna do it. this is a character trait i think ppl miss which is sad because it’s so good and adds another layer of depth to him!

it really does hurt me how he’s valued for his mind alone (AHEM AHEM AHEM. GEORGIY) but it’s the thing nobody understands about him. i’m nowhere near as smart as peter lol but i do know that pain of feeling like none of your ideas can be understood because you just can’t express them the way you’d like, and then feeling like you’ll never be able to make it happen.

also, here’s a little thing  i’ve picked up on. this connection probably doesn’t exist but i’m making it because the stamatins make me lose my mind and start becoming one of those people who looks for connections in everything i guess. peter standing in the theatre of death, andrey below him. peter’s loft being at a high point in the town, the broken heart being underground. peter’s loft is also higher north on the map but the broken heart is lower south. just smth interesting

i have more thoughts on them of course! but this is all getting awfully long. i feel like i’ve only just gotten to the tip of the iceberg  even though i’ve written so much skfjskfjs this just feels quite surface level or. at least what is surface level for me who thinks about the stamatins so hard.

anyways i’ll keep my answers to the other two parts of this question quick! peter and andrey’s more creative vs practical mindsets are rly neat. especially because i would actually argue peter is a little more grounded in reality in certain aspects. not all, but certain ones...... their take on the utopian ideology is interesting. hot take: peter’s version of utopianism leans a tad towards humility. and andrey /does/ feel “straightforward utopian” but i think in certain regards? this man has a bit of a termite streak..... (hi al if you’re reading this). but i won’t get into that right now i’ve already gone on so long. saving that for later.

i think all of the factions kinda suck in their own way sometimes, honestly? although all of them are well written and have their pros and cons. were i in pathologic and i had to choose one i’d probably be a termite but everyone around me seems to think i’m a utopian. is it bc i love peter so much

10. What would you be like as a Pathologic character?

this question is a hard one! i did make a self insert once, mile-a-minute, but they’ve become their own oc by now. i think i’d be very...... very afraid...... probably isolating myself why does every pathologic character break quarantine???? also you could trade beetles with me :) thats about all i’ve got sorry this is real short

11. What is something you would change, writing-wise, about either game?

UGH i’ve been gushing about pathologic because. obviously i love this game so much. but the way it handles racism & such (in both games!) leaves much to be desired :/

i see a lot of the points it’s trying to make but i think the way they’re handled can be very messy. there are moments that work very well but. a lot that don’t. (i am aware that dybowski writes partially from his own experiences)

all too often the game “validates” the kin’s oppression and... at times paints them as oddly antagonistic? i don’t like how often as artemy you’re able to be like “i’m not one of those beasts” and i think there are better ways to touch on his internalized racism. in general the constant comparisons to animals is weird. you get big vlad who is obviously explicitly racist comparing them to animals, but then sometimes it’s like “ACTUALLY calling them animals is fine :)”

i think the herb brides are kind of. Hm. in their portrayal. also using parts of the buryat alphabet to denote an accent is weird. making odongh and herb brides inhuman is weird. connecting the kin to Magic is weird.

and, listen, i’d really like to not be playing Artemy Burakh Experiences a Microaggression Simulator every time i’m playing the haruspex route. hate that you either can’t call ppl out on their shit or if you can it ends the conversation/bars you from getting necessary information. glad you at least get to drag the vlads, i guess?

i also was talking about this but wrt peter specifically, and this issue is present throughout the game but it’s especially visible with peter, i don’t like how often you can mock him for his addiction.

he’s obviously in an extremely rough patch! being able to be just so plain cruel to him about the dependency on alcohol (and iirc in p1 hallucinogens, bc aglaya mentions it) he’s formed to cope with his mental illness & trauma just feels bad. especially because yes it is not a healthy coping mechanism at all but... it still is a coping mechanism, if that makes sense?

the way you’re able to constantly rub it in his face feels awful. peter is fully aware that it isn’t good for him and shows a desire to quit. even if he didn’t it would still be awful to say because. it’s just insensitive. like you don’t just go up to someone and keep being like HEY YOU DRINK A LOT YOU SHOULD STOP DOING THAT DO YOU KNOW WHAT WATER IS? feels really bad to keep harping on something that causes him pain and that he struggles with every single day.

however peter does have moments where he tells you Not to say that, or if you pry into why he drinks he’ll outright say he doesn’t remember you being his friend, which is better than nothing.

in p1 moreso than p2 i hate how you can be like oh he’s craaaazy he’s off his rocker he’s delusional!!!! that “why, i never... an architect of schizophrenia!” comment sticks in my mind because it’s just... so genuinely mean. especially because if i remember correctly that line is from when he’s planning on LITERALLY FUCKING BURNING HIMSELF ALIVE

i think if they were going to have all of this they should have gone more in depth on how it’s really. not good that he’s treated so poorly. and i do believe that’s what they were going for, a la the art book w/ the whole “not to be made into a drunken clown, this is a tragic character”, etc. but it just doesn’t land. i’m holding out for the bachelor and changeling routes in p2 to see if they expand upon any of it but i highly doubt i’ll be satisfied in this regard.

i stand by the One time it was really fucking funny to clown on peter being the time you can tell him little girls eat raspberries and earthworms and he just believes you

[wtfzodiacsigns]

My Experience With the Signs (Reprise)

Aquarius: They have a commanding presence to them that to some is intimidating but not to me. You stick to your “one way of doing things” far too much. they act emotionally detached even when everyone knows they’re the most sentimental person in the room. some of them get on my nerves with their one track mind, but for the most part we get along. they’re the type to say eww guiltlessly when you say you like something really lame (if they dont then they’re the lame one). don’t really get irony for some reason either. they dont understand how you can be ironically into something really stupid, like saying you ironically listen to journey or hall and oats sometimes.

Pisces: its a 50/50. Either I love you or I can’t stand you theres no in between. they all have high morals and will really push them on people. this isnt a big problem unless their logic makes absolutely no sense which happens. they can be very intelligent but this can lead some to become overzealous. they’re smart, empathic and very compassionate. they are equal parts capable of being my favorite person or me just wanting to kill them due to some of their know-it-all natures and ridiculous logic. they’re the type where you can chain smoke talking about every topic under the sun with for 7 hours. so long as you don’t offend them which can happen pretty easily. make one innocuous joke or comment and all hell will break loose.

Aries: we would be cool except you make every issue about you. I admire your ability to stay positive, almost to a level where i fear you’re actually just ignorant of the problem completely. they’re good at making light of other peoples situations, but if something happens to them that they don’t like, its as if the whole world has to go on hold for them to figure it out. they can be really exhausting this way and come off as being super self absorbed. these are the type to call you at 4am saying “guess what just happened to me.”

Taurus: honestly not much has changed. you are still lazy and still prefer netflix and your bag of cheetos to hanging out. but regardless, they’re level headed and easy to talk to. they love to use the blame game to explain away their problems so they dont have to put work into adjusting their behavior. they have sound logic and ideas and can be that friend that you make a meaningful glance to across the room when the person you’re talking to is full of shit. nothing phases these people. until something does. then all hell breaks loose and they are insane.

Gemini: (i dont know many so im sorry if this is an unfair bias) out of all the ones I’ve known, they’ve all sucked. they manipulate and lie to get what they want from people. usually control. every picture on their facebook page is of themselves. they think they’re really talented and special when really they’re just a methhead trying to pick up underage girls with their guitar at a party they weren’t invited to.

Cancer: they’re all super sweet honestly. prone to being down on themselves and making their poor self esteem painfully obvious. they can get defensive and close themselves off even though you really just wanna hug them. tend to make poor relationship choices though they usually dont figure that out til later. really just fun to be around and drink half a bottle of tequila with. you can really tell them anything and they won’t judge you. a wholesome bean.

Leo: the person who cuts into a conversation because you haven’t said their name in five minutes. these are a bit of a mixed bag. the ones who dont have any control of their ego are unbearable: naiive, arrogant, selfish, self centered, etc. but the ones who are aware of their own egos are typically nihilists who like really weird anime and rip on themselves to make them laugh. the self aware ones have this “dead inside” air to them but not in a depressing gloomy way just in a confident “life is meaningless so fuck it” way. also I’ve never met a female leo who wasn’t gay so theres that masculine sign bringin the gay.

Virgo: they overanalyze too much and it makes them anxiety ridden but they dont do anything about it. they can be critical, but trust me they criticize themselves the most. they can be pretty blunt, and its a good trait only about half the time. they are secretly very emotional though most will never know that. they are dying inside but are super good at faking it and turning it into a joke. range from being overbearing to overly detached in about half a second. people don’t really perceive them the way they should in both directions good and bad. they stick to their ways but not in an aquarius or taurus way, but more of a “I am at a loss I dont know what else to do” way. typically very understanding and kind but not at first. it takes time to get through that prickly cynical exterior. they’re moody and typically get way too caught up and drown in tragedies. if something bad happens they never forget and they let it follow them to their grave. they’re the kind of person where you can lay on the hood of their car at night listening to beach house talking about how cool space is. (true story)

Libra: another 50/50. they both make me the angriest most miserable person on earth and also happy to the max. they love passionately when they’re actually in love but are prone to cheaty behavior which they never address. They get caught up in what people think of them without realizing it and it makes them act irrationally. they have a habit of trying to get someones attention or respect by covering up their true selves and adopting all the interests and hobbies of the person they admire, basically a chameleon. this makes them seem fake. i wish they would just embrace who they are and be themselves because literally everyone on earth would prefer that. some, usually the men, can be extremely arrogant and think they’re the greatest thing ever at everything with no evidence. they can be incredibly insecure and have all sorts of weird ways of covering it up. can be manipulative. very flirtatious which is great if you’re interested in one and really not great while you’re dating them. don’t really understand the concept of emotional cheating, probably because they do it so much and dont want to look at themselves as cheaters but they are.  if you find a loyal self aware libra with integrity and self respect though, my god they could rule the world through their ability for kindness and love.

Scorpio: I can be good friends with them but dating them is always a poor choice. they can be pretty oblivious and a lot of them get caught up in trying to look cool. its not because they care what people think its for some weird unknown self serving reason. these people can surprise you in all kinds of ways. because they keep themselves pretty low profile you never really know what they’re capable of. they’re unpredictable that way. they are pretty slutty in frivolous relationships, but once they commit they’re pretty attached. almost to an unhealthy degree. like they could get beat up, cheated on and abandoned by their partner and still love them (true story. like 3 of them). honestly though, usually just dorky memelords who wanna argue with you about politics and music using alien conspiracies as supporting evidence.

Sagittarius: oh you fiery eyed beauties. the independent ones are the best ones. they can talk all kinds of shit and not give a fuck better than anyone and its amazing so long as you’re not on the receiving end of it. the lazier ones are usually more clingy and unsure of themselves and usually use that fiery energy on their loved ones and themselves which isnt as fun. they are the greatest best friends. they know exactly what to say and when and they are the type of person where if you tell them you got cheated on they’ll go find the bastard and light their car on fire. essentially, a punk rock sagittarius can’t be topped by anyone. just stay away from the alcohol because you are so prone to being an alcoholic like please stop we love you.

Capricorn: usually very sweet. like to the point where you wonder if they’re “okay.” they will put up with some ridiculous shit from people. if you need emotional support though ask a capricorn because they will be there. usually like to keep in charge of themselves and accomplish their goals in their own kind of strange ways. usually neat and clean and smell good. they’ll buy you pizza and not ask to pay it back. if you upset one enough to leave your life then you’ve fucked up big time because they will put up with just about anything.they are precious keep them close and protected. I only met one i didnt like and they literally ended up the person i dislike most out of the whole human race that I’ve met. so i guess this means they’re just as capable of being complete asswipes as they are being squishy marshmallows.

Source: nanothestrange

[gffa]

Star Wars: Age of Rebellion - Special - “Stolen Valor” | by Jon Adams FIRST OF ALL, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS HILARIOUS.  DARTH CHOKETHROAT MADE ME LOSE IT, BUT THEN SEEING THE EMPIRE AND THE UTTER SOUL-CRUSHING BANALITY OF IT MAKE ME LOSE IT AGAIN, BUT ALSO. I loved this a lot because it’s a point about the two different types of approach stories within Star Wars, especially as this is set during the Galactic Civil War, during the original trilogy of movies.  George Lucas definitely designed his movies to be a fairy tale, that the underlying message was that there was good and there was evil, that you had a choice between them. But you also had characters like Han and Lando, who were clearly living complicated lives and had complicated situations to struggle through.  You had Darth Vader ultimately being tragic and sympathetic, when you saw underneath the mask.  You had Luke struggling with his anger and making mistakes when he rushed into things.  The good vs evil dynamic is not mutually exclusive to complicated, difficult nuance and ambiguity.  They can co-exist within the same story! A lot of people want to give Star Wars shit for not being more morally ambiguous but I would argue that there’s plenty of it, both in Legends and in Canon.  You only need to pick up the Doctor Aphra comics or pretty much any Darth Vader comic, to see characters who are doing terrible things, but you feel for them.  You only have to watch Rebels to see characters like Zare Leonis or read Lost Stars to see Ciena Ree or read the Aftermath books to see Rae Sloane, all characters who are part of the Empire and have to struggle with the morality of it.  You also have Battlefront’s Iden Versio and now Alphabet Squadron’s Yrica Quell.  Those Aftermath books and the Bloodline book show that the New Republic was absolutely a hot mess and faced a lot of impossibly shitty choices.  The Poe Dameron comic furthers that as well.  Pretty much everything about the Republic (pre-Empire) shows what complicated morally ambiguous situations that good people are trying to navigate their way through or characters who had fallen to the dark side could still be sympathetic. AND, COME ON, ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS THE HEART OF THE STAR WARS STORY AT THE CENTER.  AND HE IS THE MOST MORALLY AMBIGUOUS CHARACTER AND SUBSEQUENT MEDIA HAS DRIVEN THAT HOME AGAIN AND AGAIN. Ambiguity and complexity has always been part of the franchise, it’s still part of the franchise, and it always will be.  It may not be the way people like it (see all the complexity and ambiguity of The Last Jedi is stuff a lot of people really hated, for various reasons--some totally valid, some less so), as well as it’s not grimdark and it’s not meant to portray that morally gray characters are actually the narratively approved good guys (but that they are really fascinating to read about sometimes!), but instead that there’s a choice between good and evil, one that’s very difficult sometimes, one that there may not even be a right answer to or one that’s reasonably possible to discover, because the variables are too massive and unpredictable, that it really sucks to be in this galaxy full of heart-breaking ambiguity and no right answers sometimes, but that coming from a good place and trying to do your best to help others still makes the galaxy a better place. And that’s why I loved this comic.  It was hilarious, but it also made a really great illustration for how fucking awful this galaxy is and how difficult it is to make the right choice, not because you’re a bad person, but because the circumstances aren’t clear-cut.  Because everyone you know is dying and it’d be easier to think of the enemy as less than human, but they are and that doesn’t mean you can just let them keep hurting others, but you can never know when sparing them might lead to them hurting more people or it might be the mercy they need, that the mercy you show might get you needlessly killed or it might save you down the road. That’s how Star Wars has always been and it’s not about celebrating people being assholes, but about sympathizing with the struggle to find the good path through the shitstorm and how close to impossible that is to achieve perfectly.

[lookbluesoup]

Nate and Piper’s Fallout

@ronqueesha @viewfromthevault OKAY SINCE YOU LOVELIES AND AN ANON ASKED about the big meltdown between Nate and Piper I will now proceed to overshare thanks! If I didn’t have a gazillion billion other WIPs I’d probably have turned this into a novel by now! Lol I’m not sure if it will ever get polished enough to post online. REGARDLESS it’s important to me and I hope at least a little interesting for you all to hear about xD

THAT BEING SAID I know I have some followers who don’t like spoilers, and if I ever do finish that fic, this wordvomit is gonna be basically the entire outline. SO everything is under the cut! In contrast to most of his story, Nate’s also a bit of an ass here! Keep reading at your own peril! 😱

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

Nate realizes he’s in love with Piper the day he breaks into the Institute. Up until that point, finding Shaun took precedence over everything else. Nate had helped the Commonwealth a lot, but he couldn’t really start building a new life for himself while still chasing the old one.

Getting into the Institute was… disorienting, to say the least. Too clean, too organized, too friendly towards him after all the carnage he’s seen on the surface. When Father encourages Nate to stay and help make a better world, and Nate is presented with the idea of possibly having to choose between the Institute or the Commonwealth, it really tips him sideways. He starts to realize that he’s already been laying the foundation for a new beginning. On the surface. With Piper. And Preston. And Curie and Deacon and Nick and the Minutemen and the Railroad.

Father gives Nate the run of the Institute so of course Nate noses into every single nook and cranny. When a particularly friendly scientist greets Nate and conveys their hope that “the Institute can feel like home,” Nate remembers what the Institute has done to the homes of others. They talk to him about how there’s “nothing out there” on the surface. Nate thinks of Piper. Those living under Father dismiss the Commonwealth as just a dying remnant and Nate is surprised by the anger that sentiment inspires in him. The people on the surface are fighting hard to survive. He’s bled and sacrificed beside them. He sees it as arrogance for the Institute to claim having “humanity’s best interest at heart” and yet be so out of touch with humanity.

It’s Piper’s door Nate comes crashing through when he returns to the surface. It’s her advice he seeks out to come to terms with the revelation that Shaun is the Director of the Institute, and that once again, Nate’s sense of reality has been turned on its head.

He goes back and forth for a while. Father tolerates it with the expectation that once Nate gets a feel for the Institute he will make the right choice and join them. Nate has to be very careful to avoid the Watchers, who now have a vested interest in following him around. Desdemona urges Nate to maintain the charade for as long as it takes to liberate the synths. He agrees, and it’s at some point during this back and forth he and Piper come to terms with their feelings for one another.

That’s where it starts. And he and the Railroad are on the same page, 100% - except for Shaun.

Because Shaun is still Nate’s baby. And there is nothing more important to Nate than family. Even when that family is misguided.

He desperately wants to avoid escalating the conflict. After the shock wears off, he gets the idea that it might be possible to work not as a double-agent, but an ambassador between the surface and underground. If given enough time with the Institute, by earning their trust, Nate hopes to bridge the gap and bring about a cease-fire between the factions.

Piper’s initially supportive of the effort. If he can find one, a solution that doesn’t end in bloodshed and dead friends is preferable. They have a brief honeymoon of stolen moments that are carefully concealed from the Institute, for the sake of his cover. They still travel together openly as ‘friends’ and she even accompanies him to the Libertalia (where X6 manages to reclaim Gabriel) and Bunker Hill (where Nate helps the runaway synths escape and claims he was ambushed to protect his cover). So for a while, they’re still working together. And then Nate starts disappearing for longer and longer stretches of time.

Father is increasingly demanding. The ability to relay makes travelling across the Commonwealth with X6 much faster and safer than trekking across no-man’s land from Diamond City or the Castle or anywhere else. Suddenly Piper doesn’t know where he is every day, or what he’s doing, or why. She has faith in him, but the distance hurts.

And the thing is, it’s almost impossible to work and fight and live alongside a group of people without becoming sympathetic towards them in some way, especially for someone as naturally empathetic and cooperative as Nate, and especially in a situation like his where he feels compelled to be loyal at least to his son.

So Nate’s a little too optimistic. Starts making excuses, forgets that just because he might have managed to solve a conflict without violence doesn’t mean the Institute wouldn’t have preferred to choose violence themselves. (i.e. they were going to kidnap Wallace and kill the Minutemen who’d come to defend him, but that’s not an issue because Nate managed to convince Wallace to join the Institute peacefully, first.)

Nate sees a chance for real peace when Father offers him the role of Director. Piper doesn’t. It can’t be that easy when Nate’s still insisting they keep their relationship a secret for fear it might compromise his station and put them in danger. She reserves judgement at Nate’s request. But a whitewashed box underground could never be home to her; there could never be a future for them as a pair. And what else will Nate have to compromise to secure the loyalty of a group of people with such vastly different morals? Will they still take him as Director when the know how he really feels about the synths and the world above ground? If they know he intends to shut down the Retention Bureau and share technology with the Commonwealth? She just can’t see it happening.

He and Piper start arguing. Nate stops telling her about his missions. Stops telling her much of anything.

Rumours start finding their way back to her about the Institute’s meddling. Sometimes they’re violent. Sometimes informants talk about a man who sounds a bit like Nate, but Piper can’t bring herself to believe it. The stories must be exaggerated, or misinformed, because her Blue would never do those things. Not even to protect his cover. When she finally does get the chance to confront him, Nate’s evasive, leading her to believe at least some part of the stories must be true.

This straight up SUCKS for Piper because he’s doing what the others in Diamond City did. Suddenly he doesn’t want to talk, he treats her like she’s nosy. She isn’t his confidant anymore, and even worse she doesn’t know if she can trust him. All of this right after she opened her heart to him. It scares her, and when he only gives her more reasons to suspect he’s siding with the Institute - it makes her angry.

The night he breaks into Travis’s trailer to hack Diamond City radio and pick up reports from McDonough, Nate doesn’t even stop by Publick to tell Piper he’s in town. She crosses paths with him by sheer luck. He tries to wave it away with the excuse of “not wanting to upset her" and when the conversation gets heated, relays away. She’s pissed and pretty damn hurt. She takes all her collected intel and writes up an entire article condemning the “General” for his dereliction of duty, but doesn’t publish it.

After the Institute’s broadcast airs, Nate comes back to apologize. But he continues to insist the secrecy was necessary. And Piper pulls out all the stops. It’s gone too far. She doesn’t know what side he’s on. People are getting hurt, and he hardly seems to care anymore. Nate fails to realize what thin ice he’s on at first. (there IS an old draft of that fight here on my ao3!)

It gets heated, Nate tries to use protecting Piper as an excuse, which she will have absolutely none of, and then Nate takes a shot at her paper and tries to end the fight by insisting she just isn’t able to understand. Which he realizes, immediately, is a step too far. But the damage is already done. Piper compares Nate to Kellogg, and honestly stabbing him probably would have hurt less, kicks him out of her house, and it looks like it’s over between them.

Nate returns to the Institute wounded and angry. Father takes note of how distracted Nate seems, which prompts Nate to expose his frustration at Piper and her lack of understanding. Father remembers meeting her after the botched Battle of Bunker Hill and dismisses her small mind. Her troublemaking attitude has no place in the new future.

Nate spends the next few days going through the motions. It would be easier to just agree with Shaun and dismiss Piper’s challenge as nothing but ignorance. But that doesn’t sit quite right. Losing her is a harsh blow and her accusations weigh on Nate.

Karma’s pretty swift. Father comes to Nate with an ultimatum. The Railroad has to be put down. Shaun reveals he’s known all along about Nate’s history of involvement with them, and that it’s the last thing standing in the way of proving his loyalty. Nate tries to negotiate, and then outright refuses to kill his friends. Father stops playing nice. He orders Nate to destroy the Railroad. Realizing it’s the end of the line, Nate reverts to the old military, “Yes, sir.” but there’s a chasm in his heart. He has to choose. He can’t wait it out any longer. And Piper was right.

On the way back to his room, his synth informant warns him that the Brotherhood has also tracked the Railroad down, and are on their way to destroy the church. Choosing Shaun would be as easy as doing nothing at all. But Nate relays to Hanover Street and hits the ground running, knowing full well he’ll never set foot inside the Institute as an ally again.

Piper, meanwhile, had come to the conclusion that she couldn’t keep Nate’s waffling loyalty a secret from the Railroad any longer. She had traveled to HQ to inform Des her Agent might be compromised. And it’s about that time Nate comes crashing through the door wild-eyed with his desperate warning.

They’ve definitely had better reunions.

[kenobios]

rotj: my thoughts

positives and negatives. spoilers ahead

so, i wasn’t gonna write one of these but i felt i needed to get some stuff off my chest so i can move on. i was just gonna pretend this movie didn’t happen but i think i can come to eventually accept that it did now that i’ve had time to digest everything.

POSITIVES:

- honestly... from my first viewing there isn’t a lot i like. but i’m sure this will improve the more i watch the film and actually have the chance to form an opinion on more things within such a hectic onslaught of information. - i laughed. c3po and that little fixer dude were genuinely funny (to me). dio (sp?) was super cute too. tbh i never cared much for droids (my obi-wan is coming thru here) but i actually enjoyed them so that’s a win for me - very pretty film. visually spectacular.  - fast-paced. not boring for a second (to me). kept me entertained. - rey’s yellow lightsaber. i actually liked this even tho it doesn’t match up with current canon (yellow being for temple guards). it reminded me of bastila and i was just waiting for her to show it off as a double-sided saber... which i didn’t get but it still looked like it was built for it so i’ll take the win. - the idea of palpatine being powerful again but it would have been cool to see a younger version of himself - rey and ben teaming up and the intimate moment they shared which felt genuinely beautiful and was one of the highlights for me

now here’s the ISSUES i have off the top of my head, some of them having been mentioned on this blog before:

- the trio. everyone else has already said it. forced and uncomfortable. it felt like they were setting up a love triangle for the first half of the movie as well, which was weird. when they had poe and rey have those ‘moments’ or when they bickered with each other i was like ‘they better not be tryna spring up some hanleia dynamic on us for the last film between these two’ especially while also baiting finnrey (which is never touched upon again after the first half of the movie, yikes)

- towards the end of the film, i turned to the person next to me and said “this reminds me of a video game plot” - i couldn’t pinpoint exactly why that was, but it was just a feeling. and not a deep, thorough video game plot either. another reviewer said something similar. it’s just... very shallow, expository and it feels like it’s dragging you and the characters through very railroaded and forced missions/battles. i mean at the start they’re really just looking for something, going to someone, that person says they need to talk to someone else for the thing, they go to another person, etc. which is a type of mission device used in games as well. it also felt to me like one of those japanese otome games where rey is the bland female character that all the male characters fall for (poe, finn, kylo) and she gets her pick of which one she wants to romance, which was cringe.

- i didn’t hear the characters. i only heard what they were forcing the characters to say in order to progress the plot or explain the plot. the characters themselves became faceless inserts for exposition. so many times i heard a character say something and thought... that was a jarring piece of dialogue that seems both out of character and unnatural to say at that point in time.

- although i said being fast-paced could be a positive, it was largely a negative for me. at one point it felt like slide transitions were happening at minute intervals. a major plot point would be revealed and then no time is given to process, it’s onto the next major scene. this left everything feeling very rushed and messy, which i believe is due to half the film being cut for time constraints.

- each character is either twisted into an unrecognisable character, or ignored/not given the time they deserve. rey? blank slate female protag with a famous bloodline and who barely reacts to the things going on around her (leia dying, ben dying, she disregards her ‘friends’ on multiple occasions). like others, i always defended rey’s abilities, but this film is too much. she has been made a mary sue. finn? rendered nothing but the ‘friend’ pining after a girl and only briefly gets time with his own story which is never fully explored in this film by any means. poe? turned into a grumpy, seemingly jealous ‘friend’ with a shady past that felt like they were trying to make him the ‘han solo’ of the trio rather than going with what we already know about his character. leia? now this is hard, and i respect what they tried to do, but i still felt like her death could have been done a bit better rather than the quick ‘shock’ moment it was. also the stuff with luke training her is a no for me. way too shoe-horned and part of what made leia cool to me was that she was a skywalker but didn’t need to be a jedi. her powers were elsewhere. kylo? don’t get me started. rose? who? she may as well not have been in this movie with the way they ignored her character and showed how little the other characters care about her. it broke my heart.

- rey palpatine? though i’m a rey kenobi fan, i was happy with rey nobody. i liked what it stood for. i didn’t mind the idea of rey palpatine in theory, but the way they force-fed this to us in the film rather than building it up left a bad taste in my mouth and i’m going to have to pass on it. if they wanted to have her related to palpatine, they should have just made her a clone imo. it would have matched with what was being built up prior (in tlj with the clones in the cave), it would have explained her ties to the dark side, it would have completed the palpatine/skywalker poetry, and it would have still been congruent with her being a ‘nobody’ since that’s essentially what clones are seen as in star wars. also we wouldn’t have to think about the fact palpatine got laid. laboratories were already set up in jakku by palpatine. cloning itself was shown in rots anyway (snoke) so? 

- although i’ve wanted ben to be redeemed... it still felt too rushed in this film. also, he does display some toxic tendencies as kylo ren towards rey (trying to manipulate her to go with him) which didn’t sit well with me but i didn’t really see ben/kylo ren in his scenes sometimes anyway, since he was also forcibly used to give exposition to us/rey. i did like his scene with his mother and father in the film but i just needed more than that to really feel his redemption rather than the quick switch we got. 

- i originally wasn’t okay with the whole ‘bringing someone back to life through the force’ thing since i always liked the idea palpatine was just saying that to honeypot anakin, but decided i’m willing to accept it as a unique ability they had for each other due to their force bond. but then... ben dies anyway. and it’s done in such a way that leaves you feeling ‘wtf just happened?’. it was random, forced, didn’t feel necessary and it just... happened. no one reacted to it. he wasn’t referred to or mentioned after this. the last skywalker goes out just like that. poof. okay. so was this a shock death or was jj genuinely trying to appease people who didn’t think ben deserved redemption or to live? either way ben lived such a sad, cruel, manipulated life that his death seemed unfair and we’re all supposed to think this movie is hopeful and celebrate a few minutes later? i don’t think so. in fact, everything that happens after that scene feels incredibly uncomfortable because of the massive tonal shift.

- the kiss. ok don’t hate me. i enjoy reylo. but i honestly think the kiss wasn’t exactly... needed? maybe it was just because everything else felt so forced but it felt a little forced in this scene for me. for me, the hug ben gave rey just beforehand spoke more volumes of their intimacy. i did mention their intimate moments above as a positive, so i still like this overall moment (in addition to the moment rey heals him). but the hug spoke enough to me that it would have been nice to keep it more subtle yet obvious enough (thanks to their acting) that they cared deeply for one another. but then again, this is what i felt before i knew ben died, so. idk. i guess it would suck for ben to die without having kissed rey? how about just don’t kill ben off. have them hug instead of kiss and then leave us to fill in the gaps as they both live. how about that.

- the rey skywalker thing is embarrassing. and rey ended up alone in the desert... just how she started. i just can’t. by the time this came on the screen i was ready to leave. i only stayed because i HOPED there would be an after credits showing her on the falcon, or her training finn to be a jedi, or her speaking with any of the force ghosts (luke or ben or anakin).

- speaking of which. why were there no force ghosts in the scene where she fights palpatine? we just get voices? that scene really lacked impact and the whole fight sequence just felt blah. palpatine came back super strong and then he was gone in moments. there should have a) been force ghosts or some kind of visual presence of the jedi to help rey whether physically or just boosting morale and b) ben should have fought palpatine with her.

- why is rey alone in the desert? i honestly didn’t think this meant she was going to be a hermit until i came online and saw that’s what everyone else thought. but just... why? why is she not passing on the jedi ways she fought to keep alive? or the knowledge she has gained/kept in the sacred jedi texts she stole? surely not. surely that is her plan. surely ben saved her not just because he loved her but also because she can carry on the skywalker legacy NOT by dying alone in a desert but by training new jedi. (which, again, SHOULD HAVE BEEN FINN AS THE FIRST NEW JEDI!) or better yet, a new type of jedi that don’t follow toxic ways but that incorporate both the light and dark side of the force like she does? and calling THEM skywalkers? but nope. instead she ended up back where she started. except with less personality this time.

- i can’t talk enough about how cool it would have been to have jedi!finn at the end. talk about coming full circle from the promo baits they had for TFA of finn with the lightsaber. AT LEAST GIVE US THIS.

- the whole movie just felt like a massive disrespect to the previous film. everything rian built was trampled on, retconned or ignored. say what you want about tlj and rian, but this is what happens when you ignore or try to retcon the preceding film whether you like it or not. everything feels messy and the plots get screwed up. this movie would have been largely different (better) had they not tried so hard to pretend tlj didn’t exist. even if you didn’t like it, take the plot and mould it into something you do like. don’t just toss it aside and lose all sense of continuity between the films. i don’t blame jj for this exactly, but rather the disney committee that were too afraid to acknowledge tlj’s existence due to the reception it got from fans and thus felt the need to have jj ‘fix/retcon’ things rather than build upon/improve things.

- oh yeah hux. that happened, i guess. i thought it was weird and it kinda sucked that they did that. who cares about the new guy? general pride or whatever? no one. surely making general hux more menacing couldn’t have been THAT hard. but no. we get a rather silly death instead. alright. at least he can forever be known as the petty king of star wars.

- there’s probably more. i could write an essay but i’m getting tired of complaining already so i’m leaving it here. if you happened to read this far and want to talk about it with me some more, my DMs are open!

overall, i just hope some canon content is going to be released, either in the form of a book or a comic, that explores more of this following the movie. i want to know more about finn’s story. i want to see whether rey does stay on tatooine or whether she trains jedi. i want to see whether she communicates with ben through the force, or just, y’know, any closure on that would be nice. i want to see the director’s cut with the other half of the movie. then, perhaps, i will know peace.

[atalana]

If Five was somehow given a way to assure his family's safety, do you think he'd have the potential to be a true villain? Like not necessarily evil but if he refuses to care about himself or others, would his lack of wanting anything reduce him to an antagonist? Or could he become a hero proper, or something else entirely? I'm curious about your thoughts on this!!

Hooo boy this is an interesting ask, thank you so much!

To first off answer your question, yes, absolutely, Five has the potential to be a villain. Under those specific circumstances, debatable, and there’s a few different factors that could go into it, so lets go into them properly

First off, how is he ensuring his family’s safety, and also does that affect the apocalypse? Because let’s take that one first, if his family survived into the apocalypse with him, Five would not be the Five we know. Honestly, as much as the apocalypse would suck, I think all of them would be better adjusted? It’s one thing to survive on your own, it’s a different thing altogether to survive as a team. They’d learn to work together, they’d get better at not following Hargreeves’ rules and life plan and all of that, it would be miserable sometimes, but they’d have each other, and a lot better mental everything.

If it means the apocalypse never happens, then Five travels into the future to meet his ~30 year old siblings. It would be weird, and he’d probably like to get back, but when he discovers he can’t it won’t be life shattering, because he’s still got his siblings, he’s just their younger brother now. Either way, Five has no reason to get involved with the Commission

But let’s say for the sake of argument that the apocalypse still happens, Five is still the Five in the show, it’s just that his siblings aren’t at risk and so we take that away as a factor.

Well, you’re right, he’s got a lot less of a drive to succeed now. But also, I think he still does want to stop the apocalypse? Because that’s what ruined his life, and Five’s not without morals, even if he frequently puts them aside, given the choice he’d still choose to save everyone, he definitely cares about people as a whole. Like, the closer it gets to the apocalypse in the show the more he starts using “everyone” instead of his family, he criticises the Handler for letting everyone die, he sides with Luther because “there are billions of lives at stake, we’re past trying to save just one”. Five, with no other factors changed, still wants to save the world.

So let’s talk about what would get him to leave everything behind.

Would he do it if his life was at risk? Interesting question. Because I don’t think Five necessarily cares about the world more than he cares about himself, it’s more, he stopped thinking about his own life as a factor ages ago. He’s been driven by this task for so long, he doesn’t know what he is without it. And as we’ve talked about, after everything he went through in the apocalypse, and with the Commission, he really sees himself a lot more as a tool to complete a task than a person with a life. He has absolutely no qualms about throwing himself at a problem to try and get it fixed. I think in a straight up “it’s you or the world” he’d probably choose to save the world? But that’s on pretty shaky ground.

For example, the Handler’s offer. He comes back to work for the Commission, if his family is safe and he gets to stop being thirteen again. In the show, both Five and the Handler went into that agreement knowing it was just a matter of who double crossed the other first. But if that was legit? Well, he still disapproves of the entire planet dying, but he’s killed a lot of people by himself, he’s very good at compartmentalising his feelings away in that respect. And he doesn’t like looking thirteen, he hates that people see him as a child, hates that the only clothes that fit him are the Umbrella Academy uniforms. It’s just that his own body dysmorphia ranks so low on his list of priorities compared to the literal apocalypse. Like, you can see it, he wants to take that offer so badly, it’s why the Handler keeps dangling it in front of his face with things like getting him new adult fitted outfits. The main problem is the Commission part. If that offer came from someone he trusted more than the Handler, I think he’d take it. He may not like what he was doing to the world in the process, but getting to look like himself and go live with his family far away from all of this, that’s a pretty tempting choice.

Is there a timeline where Five continues to work for the Commission? I think only if it was the only way to save his family, as in, they’d be actively in danger and continue to be if and only if he refused to work for the Commission. He may be good at Commission work, but he hates the place, hates what they stand for, sees them only as a means to an end. He’s only worked for them to use them, if he was going to continue working for them past the point they’re no longer useful to him, they would have to have something pretty strong to use against him, and after everything, I think his family’s lives are the only thing strong enough.

Now, villain, antagonist, those are interesting words to use here. Because here’s the thing - to many many people, Five is already a villain. Like, just on screen, people Five has knowingly and deliberately killed to further his own goals:

All of the mercenaries the Commission sent after him, who didn’t know what they were there for, just that they had to kill whoever the tracker led them to

At least one person in Dallas, 1963

37 people from the Hindenburg case, as a way to get the Handler off his back

At least one person fleeing the Commission

At least three Commission agents in the theatre

That’s nearly 50 people right there. And if you count all the accidental deaths Five caused with his actions but didn’t give a shit about, or all the people he assassinated when working for the Commission, the number is easily in the hundreds

To the families of all those people, Five is a villain, it just depends on what narrative you’re looking at. Really, despite being the most driven out of all of them to save the world, Five doesn’t have the moral high ground over anyone in this show. Maybe the Handler, but it’s pretty subjective.

Now antagonist, that’s even more interesting. Because in order to be an antagonist, you have to be working against the goals of the protagonists. Well, who are the protagonists in this hypothetical narrative? If you want to keep any aspects of this story the same, it only makes sense for them to be the other Academy kids, right?

So here’s a narrative for you. The Commission gets the upper hand on Five. They find another way to cause the apocalypse that doesn’t rely on Vanya (it’s possible, there’s one point in the comics where Hazel and Cha Cha literally manage to blow up the earth with a bunch of nuclear weapons Hargreeves had been stockpiling, long story, but they could blow up the moon for the same result as in the show). The Commission just wants this whole situation to be over, so they give him a choice - Five can go live somewhere else with his family and ignore the fact that the apocalypse will happen, or the entire Hargreeves family can die right now. But Five has to convince them to go.

Now, what do you do, when your little brother who you haven’t seen in seventeen years, shows up with a bunch of mercenaries and says the apocalypse is about to happen, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it, you just have to go with him and you can all live far away from it if you go right now. Well, you might say yes, if you think he’s being threatened into this, especially if he says your own life depends on it. But if you’ve been raised a superhero, well, you’re a lot more likely to fight back.

And if you see how well he can fight, how willing he is to kill completely indiscriminately, well, you’d probably have a hard time trusting anything he says.

Luther isn’t going to go, because Luther’s duty is to save the world. He’s going to try everything he can to do that, regardless of what Five says.

Diego isn’t going to go, because he cares about these people, he cares about making a difference in the world and doing good. He can’t do that if everyone’s dead.

There’s nothing on earth that could make Allison leave her daughter, and even if she could take Claire with her, I don’t think Allison “trying to be a better person and fix her life” Hargreeves would be too happy about raising her daughter knowing she let Claire’s father die, letting Claire know she’s a coward who took the easy way out

Klaus might go. But Ben would be very very against it.

Vanya will hear Five out, but won’t be able to believe it, and even if she does, she’s got a life here too, and she’s not gonna be super psyched to leave everything just to go with her siblings who’ve always excluded her, and some of whom currently actively hate her.

And let’s be real, Five isn’t going to try and convince them if Five can try and force them. In canon, the only person he talks to is Vanya, and when she doesn’t immediately try to help him, he abandons that plan entirely. He only goes back to his family when he’s out of leads with no idea what to do.

Some of them are going to assume Five is being threatened and try to help him, which Five doesn’t want, because that puts them in more danger. Some of them are going to assume Five’s completely lost it, and is now a danger to them, and are going to try and stop him, which Five doesn’t want, because that’s just letting them all die in the apocalypse.

It would be a disaster, and would go a lot better if these kids could communicate with each other, but they’re so bad at that. I don’t know how the whole thing would play out, if Five would be swayed by their attempts to stand strong against the apocalypse, or if he knows there’s no hope and is just trying to save them against their will, but either way, it would be very fun to watch

[eggoreviews]

My Top 25 Games Advent Day 10 - Detroit: Become Human (#16)

“We are gonna tell them peacefully that we want justice. If there’s any humanity in them, they will listen. And if not, others will take our place and continue this fight. Are you ready to follow me?”

This is a divisive game if ever I’ve seen one. Some cite David Cage’s latest multi-branch epic as a modern masterpiece of cinematic gaming, seamlessly weaving three tales of humanity and equality that is genuinely and sometimes harshly affected by your choices. But others, a fair amount of others, see this title as an overblown, janky mess with David Cage’s typical wonky, heavy-handed writing and themes that don’t even attempt subtlety. Me personally, I can see both sides of the fence. So here’s my take.

Going into Detroit, I honestly wasn’t expecting much, being well aware of the reputation Cage carries from his previous projects, but I’m a big ol fan of decision-based adventure games as anyone who’s been reading this countdown will know, so I thought it’d be a fun distraction. Detroit turned out to be what I consider to be the best decision-based game ever created (there’s one other in this list that places above Detroit, but you’ll see why when I get to it). And that’s purely down to the game mechanics alone, even just putting aside the characters and writing for a moment, the sheer amount of endings and branching pathways is baffling. This is a game that is perfectly in tune with every single choice you make, which can often result in deaths of characters that you can’t undo and then boom, you lose the rest of that character’s storyline. It’s harsh, but it means every player gets a different experience and gives much, much more weight to the decisions you make as you strive to get everybody out at the end. Detroit is genuinely a wild ride, made even more enjoyable by its various crime scene investigations, fight scenes and chase sequences, which all keep the overall gameplay from becoming stale.

Now, I know some people criticise this game as a whole for not digging into AI or telling another Ex Machina story about science and technology and ‘tHe SiNgULaRitY’ or whatever, but that’s because that’s really not what Detroit is trying to do. Detroit tells a story of standing up to prejudice and reminding us that humanity should always strive to do better by those that are oppressed, and using the allegory of androids is excellent in driving this home. Detroit is a story of overcoming prejudice in an increasingly terrifying world, as the city of Detroit itself is home to those hurling insults and violence at androids, while simultaneously becoming reliant on them. It’s an interesting paradox, especially as the game continues to give subtle speculation in the background of various scenes as how technology could affect infamous cities such as Detroit in the future, as well as giving an insight into the potential international climate in 2038, from bees dying out to a potential war over the Arctic between the US and Russia. The speculative world-building in this title is stellar, and it’s something I think a lot of people gloss over when considering this game to entirely lack subtlety.

Moving on the foreground of Detroit, here’s where the majority of the people point to Detroit’s massive ham-handedness. The characters. Detroit places you in the control, and basically places in your care, three entirely different characters with completely different and engaging perspectives on the growing number of ‘deviant’ androids:

Connor, a prototype detective android, begins the game entirely sided with his own oppressors, doing everything he can to ensure his mission is complete. Connor can remain as a cold, ruthless, uncaring machine for the entire game, to the disdain of your reluctant colleague and eventually close friend (boyfriend) Hank. Or, if you’ve made enough choices to make Connor reflect on his life, you are given the choice to later defect and allow Connor to discover his humanity. Here’s what I love about Detroit; going back to the masterful story branch crafting for a moment, the game doesn’t allow you to make throwaway choices that entirely contradict how you’ve been treating a character for the whole game, so Connor’s eventual deviancy can only come about if that’s how you’ve been playing him. What’s even more powerful is that, if you choose to stay on the original path Connor was taking, his eventual obsolescence is all the more heart-breaking, as he realises all too late that he was manipulated and used by his creators to harm those who wished for freedom, only to have himself replaced by a more advanced model after being successful. Now that’s how you do an ending.

The second, Markus, yet another prototype gifted to the artist Carl (played by the legendary Bishop himself, Lance Henrikson) to take care of him in his old age. Markus’ story has a hell of a lot of dimensions to it, as you acknowledge throughout your time with him that, despite the fact he is still a slave, he lives what could be seen as a privileged life, compared to other androids at least, living with the artist that simultaneously owns him and dictates his entire life, whilst also urging him to seek his own humanity and think for himself. Some interesting hypocrisy from Carl, which is another reason why it’s so easy to have mixed thoughts and feelings on certain characters. Characters are morally grey in Detroit, even if it doesn’t seem so on the surface! So there’s some of that nuance people seemed to forget was there (but hey, this is all just my opinion so uhhh don’t @ me telling me I suck). In the end, having fallen from his sheltered life into one now entirely dictated by himself, Markus finally sees for himself the horrible treatment of the rest of his kind and resolves to take action and becomes a symbol for the android rebellion, rounding off a satisfying arc for a character previously completely blind to the suffering of his fellow androids.

And the third, Kara, is a household android that has lost all memory beyond a horrible accident she seemed to have suffered. Unlike the polar opposite stances of Connor and Markus, Kara and her growing bond with her previous owner’s child Alice represent what Markus is fighting for and what Connor is fighting against; finding humanity. Kara doesn’t want a part in war or rebellion, her only desire is to protect the child she’s now caring for. While this perspective was extremely important, not least as a way of seeing firsthand how your large scale choices as Connor and Markus are affecting smaller scale narratives such as Kara and Alice’s bid for freedom, my one and only gripe is wishing they’d made Alice, and to a point Kara, into more developed characters that could stand on their own. While their plight is poignant and effective and their motivations are clear, the same can be said of Connor and Markus, who each have their own nuances and quirks to their character that subtly portray the humanity they’re discovering in themselves. Kara and Alice, with a little more development outside of their main drive, could’ve made that plotline just a little more interesting, but I maintain that their perspective was essential in showcasing the outcomes of your choices. Plus, Luther is an awesome character and I love him more than anything. It all just goes to show that a lot of the subtlety some claim as missing entirely can be found in other aspects of the experience, most notably the world-building and the excellently composed soundtrack. In particular, I think the move of choosing an individual composer for each character was absolute genius, as it gives each one their own unique musical style and atmosphere.

I know a lot of this, especially the characters and their arcs, may seem like cliches and so on the nose it isn’t even trying, but I think in this case, it just works. Stories of breaking away from ingrained prejudice can be just that and sometimes benefit from telling stories as they are, Detroit didn’t need to be stylised or rooted in subtle, shifting plot threads to leave me an absolute emotional wreck by the time I finished playing. Sure, it tackled its heavy themes with as much grace as a blind rhinoceros, but that didn’t detract at all from the emotional value of each individual plot thread and it certainly didn’t hamper the experience of being completely engrossed in a story where your choices matter more than anything else. David Cage may have rightfully earned his reputation as a bit of a fumbling, heavy-handed writer, but this game is so painstakingly crafted from every character to every setpiece and every choice alteration from minute to grandiose, makes that famous Cage jank almost entirely disappear. Almost. And if you yourself are a Cage skeptic as I once was (and to a point, still am), I encourage you to give this game a try.

Standout Moment Award: The crossover finale of all three main narrative threads is absolutely perfectly executed, and feels equally impactful no matter your choices. But, you know, obviously the best canon ending is when everyone gets out alive.

Standout Character Award: Connor. Of course this had to go to Connor, the ever-conflicted, messily efficient twinky android who is definitely dating Hank takes today’s standout character shoutout.

Tomorrow: No. 15; framed swordsman gets pissed off at a world-ending prophecy, bothers entire world for help.