#I remain so utterly committed to being back on my bullshit

[poppypickle]

Did I write more Clint/Natasha fic? Yes, yes I did.

Do I have a problem? Yes, yes I do.

Prompt: speak now or forever hold your peace (for the @be-compromised promptathon)

#clintasha #clintasha fic #I remain so utterly committed to being back on my bullshit #clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint x natasha #natasha x clint #I am weak in the face of vintage Taylor Swift lyrics

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 26 “Critical Stink” [Episode List] During a D&D session, Tim insists that he should be immune to poison damage. The gassy-as-usual Dave makes sure he’s gonna regret such request.

POV: Tim

Critical Stink

The evil Yuan-Ti general and his minions had us cornered: the humanoid snake turned out to be a bigger threat than our team expected. Radahm, our Rogue, managed to backstab one of the lesser enemies in front of us, who then bled to death mere minutes later. Ergg, the annoying wizard, quickly casted a defensive spell to protect us but the snake-like soldiers had weapons capable of undoing any form of magic (…something we never heard of before, in our years of adventures, but OK). 

I, the brave Paladin Desal, was our team’s last hope: I could attack our formidable foes with my mighty holy sword, getting closer to the general himself, whose venomous bite was just as dreaded as the blade of his mighty scimitar. Yet, I decided to go for it, I had nothing to fear, for The High One has granted me poison immunity many moons ago. This is why The Fate brought us here… why She brought me here.

It was all leading up to this.

I rush with all of my might towards the snake general, who noticed my deft movement, his long neck dodging my sword at the last second. He hissed back at me, his mouth going for my arm.

I felt his teeth piercing through my white armor, but once again, I had nothing to fear, for The High One has granted me poison immun-

“What do you mean I’m losing HP?!”

Me (Desal), Greg (Ergg) and Adam (Radahm) were having one of our D&D sessions, which are getting rarer given how busy we are. Dave was our DM for this Quest and… we didn’t really like where this was going. 

First, that whole bullshit with Yuan-Ti weapons undoing Greg’s magic (and magic in general apparently). Never heard of such thing nor we care, even though Dave found our shock quite delightful. And then -and this is more personal-, all of the sudden, my character stopped being immune to poison… because plot I guess!

“Dude!” I scolded Dave. “I thought we agreed on this like moo- I mean months ago.”

Adam and Greg backed me up, just because the wanted to dunk on Dave than anything else.

“Gentlemen.” our DM replied, in a mockingly formal tone. “…and Tim.” he turned to me and took a sip of his beer, then resumed talking. “What I told you back then was that The High One would grant Desal poison immunity in case you rolled a Nat 20 on a Defense Roll.”

I remained silent.

“And, I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t see a 20 anywhere on this table.”

The derisive sarcasm was just as annoying as it sounded, not even considering Dave being utterly wrong about this. If only I could find those papers where we actually took note of this…

“I’m with Tim on this one.” Greg said. “Also if he dies, our quest is basically over.”

“I guess we’re done then.” I said, referring more to the fact that Greg agreeing with me was basically a death sentence to any possibility of being right. “What about you, Adam?” I asked.

“Well, I got my share of EXP by backstabbing that snake guy, so I’m gonna try running away my next turn.” he snickered.

“Team of the year.” Dave commented, amused. 

“Disgusting.” Greg remarked.

“Wow the the True Neutral Rogue doing True Neutral things I’m such a bad player.” Adam replied.

“Hey! This is not about Adam’s admirable commitment to role-playing.” I pointed to our DM. “This is about Dave making up the rules.” 

“Here’s what I have to say about it.” 

Dave, who was wearing a brown hoodie and a pair of dark blue jeans, simply leaned a bit, the wooden chair he was sitting on cracking under his weight. One of my friend’s deafening farts soon followed, the wooden surface making it even louder. Not the first one my bro ripped during our D&D session (we were all high on beer and junk food, so gas was expected), but definitely one of the louder ones. While he still casually does it, I’m pretty sure, considering that evil smirk, that this one time he simply ripped one to, well, startle me, as he knows very well how awkward I (still) get whenever Dave is so chill about my fart kink.

“I guess a storm is getting closer.” Greg commented, after the 5 seconds blast ended.

Dave quickly snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “Good call. Let’s wrap it up.”

So our DM quickly made up that those Yuan-Tis that almost killed us are afraid of thunderstorms (ripping another thunder-fart to further prove his plot point) and thus they ran away, scared, leaving us there, licking our own wounds (almost literally, given Greg rolling a 4 when he attempted to heal us).

We survived, but that was pretty underwhelming.

“So Greg managed heal me, no more poison and shit like that.” I commented.

“I’m your DM: I decide if you get to survive tonight.” Dave reminded me, that annoying sarcastic smirk drawn on his face, fully aware of how annoying he was being.

But admittedly that’s part of the fun you know.

“Well that wasn’t fun at all guys, see you in about 6 months for our next session.” Adam said, as he got up and reached for his jacket. Greg did the same.

We had one last sip of beer together and then our friends left, leaving me and Dave alone at our place. It was late, about 1:00 AM, but also a Saturday.

As me and my bro/roommate tidied up the table we just finished playing on, he decided to keep making fun of my strategies.

“The first mistake was choosing the Paladin as your class, as I told you many moons ago.” he snickered.

“Says the Wizard enjoyer. Having fun casting shit from behind the trees?” 

“Yes, because I don’t get poisoned from there. Also, I’m more of a Bard you know.” 

“I shouldn’t get poisoned, you know it. But our DM got amnesia apparently.” 

Dave laughed, rolling his eyes. “Nat 20 on Defense Roll.” he spoke slowly. “Such a difficult concept to grasp!”

We sat once again at the now clean table, opened two more beers and we kept talking.

“Look, I’m not saying that you don’t remember it. But yes, you don’t remember it.”

“I don’t remember it.” Dave insisted. “Because it never happened.”

“Literally the only thing my character is going for is poison immunity.” I stated, perhaps exaggerating, but you get my point.

“Wow immunity against the worst damage type. Congratulations, Desal! You’re a Paladin, start summoning light pillars or some other gay shit!”

“Dave, we agreed on it. I DESERVE to be immune to poison.” I insisted.

“Fine.” my friend took a quick sip of beer. “All kinds of poison?”

“Yes.” I said, satisfied. 

“…even poison gas?” Dave said, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

“Well yes of course, especially pois- I know where this is going.” I glanced at him, unimpressed.

Indeed, Dave laughed and once again leaned, another loud blast erupting from his jeans-clad ass, the wooden chair under him enduring that powerful flatulence like a silent hero. 5 more seconds of farting and he was done.

“You g-gotta admit…” I said, bravely, almost shaking for how embarrassed I was. “That’s one type of poison I’m definitely immune to.” I joked, I tried to.

“Shut up.” Dave replied, chill as usual about my fetish. “You’re tough, I’ll give you that, but Tim…” he put his hand on my shoulder, being hilariously serious about all of this. “We’re talking about my farts: one of these days you’re gonna die because of me.” 

He finished that short speech by effortlessly ripping one more quick 2 seconds rip, faking a sad expression, as if I truly was risking my life. I managed to laugh, my boner however almost hitting the table for how good those farts were, a faint smell reaching my nostrils as well.

“Come on. Let me have this at least. Poison immunity in real life!” I kept joking.

Dave looked at me, with a smirk, then turned his attention to a D20 dice we left on the table and reached for it. 

“You know…” he started talking in a tone of voice that made me think this whole thing turned into a business deal for some reason. “I can grant you your precious poison immunity… if you pass the test…”.

He was fiddling with the dice, now looking back at me. 

“Let me guess: another rule you just made up.” I said.

“Not at all! I forced you through this test so many times lately… but tonight I decide if you actually passed it.” he laughed.

I had no idea what he was talking about. Or rather, pretended not to.

“I don’t understand. Are you planning some kind of challenge?”

“Sort of. I’ll just show you how it’s going to work.”

He passed the dice to me and I just stared at it for a few seconds.

“Roll the dice, Tim.” he said, with a smirk.

I played along and mindlessly let the dice fall on the table. It rolled for a few instants and then I read the number facing up out loud. “Meh, that’s a 4. I’m just like Greg.”

In response to what I just said, Dave snapped his finger to gain my attention. As I turned to him, he leaned once again and a thunderous fart echoed in the empty living room, easily surpassing the sounds coming from the TV across the room, the wooden surface of the chair he was destroying with his gas greatly increasing the loudness of the already powerful rip.

The blast lasted around 5 seconds and… that wasn’t rocket science, I knew where this was going now. I was speechless, I had no idea Dave would even think something like this. 

“No.” I simply said, shaking my head, embarrassed. 

I stood up, leaving the dice on the table, ignoring the fact that my friend could clearly see the tent I pitched through my blue sweatpants and walked towards the couch, as I kept repeating “No”, each time my bro laughing more and more.

“Scared, Desal?” he promptly asked. 

“No!” I took a big breath, turning back to my bud still sitting at the head of the table, his eyes glued on me, his smug smirk still drawn on his face. “It’s just… come on man… I don’t want to… of course I…”

Dave stood up and walked towards me, without losing that smile, now looking a bit more chill. “You know you don’t have to worry about this, not with me, right?” he simply asked, and I knew exactly what he meant.

“Alright…” I said. “I’ll do your dumb test.”

He laughed. “This also counts as me getting my revenge for, you know, you doubting my DM skills.” 

I figured I’d just give up: Dave was gonna blast me either way, and I deeply appreciated how he wanted to make sure that no, I had nothing to worry about, he knows I have this kink, he knows I was gonna like this… but that wasn’t going to stop him from torturing me with his well-known blasts. A “revenge”, as he calls it. 

Truth to be told, as much as my boner tells you other wise… I do have my limits, and my friend’s farts sounded very nasty tonight, fueled by hours of beers and low-quality food. What made it so dangerous (and hot) is that Dave is well aware of his skills, so he knew that this was indeed going to be a test.

My bro sat on the couch and nodded at me, as if what was going to happen was completely normal, so I sat next to him. 

“So… roll for initiative?” he joked, handing the dice back to me. 

“I hate you so much.” I replied. Dave just never ceases to amaze me though.

I let the dice roll on the small table in front of us, as Dave took a sip of his beer. We both watched it bounce around for a few moments, until it stopped, a big 7 facing up. 

The fart I heard when I rolled a 4 was already impressive so… how is a 7 going to sound like? My roommate seemed to read my mind since he elbowed me, smug smile and all.

I clumsily tried to ask how, well, he was going to face-fart me this time. “What do you want me to… you k-know.”

Dave simply put the beer on the table, right next to the dice and, still silent, simply stood up, towering over me, my face already aligned with his sagging denim ass. He stepped in front of me and reached for my head, planting it on that warm ass, still stinky for all the previous farts he ripped, a faint scent of rotten pizza greeting my nose. He held my face there for a few seconds, in silence, as if he wanted me to, well, enjoy that the leftovers of his previous rips.

But now, finally, the test has officially begun: a big fart engulfed my face, my friend barely needing to push it out, ripping that blast almost effortlessly. He firmly held my head in there, as if I was going to move it away, which obviously wasn’t going to happen.

And yet, Dave keeping my face into his roaring butt, letting me take big whiffs, was always a great bonus: whether he did that because he knew my kinky ass would like it or not… I just didn’t know, but I was ok with it nonetheless… as long as he was okay with me.

He raised his left leg a bit, letting his ass roar even louder. 

The impressive flatulence lasted 9 seconds: just beautiful, but I knew this wasn’t the worst (best?) my bud was going to hit me with tonight.

Dave let my head go, turned around to stare down at me, and laughed a bit. He then sat back next to me, as if nothing gross and weird happened.

“This is how you get poison gas immunity: you gotta train those nostrils first.”

“I hate you so much.” I repeated myself, as I took a sip of his beer.

He patted my shoulder in response. “No worries, your training will resume soon.”

I reached for that cursed D20 once again and fiddled with it a bit, before going for another roll.

“How long is this test going to last?” I genuinely asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

“We’ll see.” he winked at me, while looking at something on his smartphone.

Still deciding on whether I was or not the luckiest man in the world because I have a friend like him, I went for another roll, the D20 once again bouncing on the small table in front of us. Admittedly, I sighed in relief when I saw a 2.

“Remind me to never take you to Las Vegas…” Dave commented.

Since it was 2, my bro simply spread his long legs, showing off his sagging jeans in the process, and ripped a short (but still loud, despite being muffled by the couch) toot. Small for Dave’s standards, not even 4 seconds long, but still a nice sounding fart overall.

Not that I wasn’t aware of his skills, but the fact that those were all natural, back-to-back, was almost fascinating to me. Fetish or not, I wish I had such powers.

“Still pretty impressive for a 2, I gotta say.” I said, getting more comfortable with openly acknowledging Dave’s talent. 

My roommate chuckled in response. “Such a kinky bitch.” he joked.

As my way to challenge him after that ridiculous fart, I quickly went for another roll. The dice spun for a moment until it revealed the number at the top spot, which immediately made me swallow my pride: a 16.

“Looks like you’re gonna get your ass kicked, Paladin.”

“You better shut up or I’m gonna kick yours.”

“With what? Your nose?”

As Dave (rightfully) made fun of me, he stood up once again, this time on the couch, towering over me even more than before (he had no shoes anymore, only a pair of sweaty socks).

“Just… just do it.” I simply said, horny, my heart racing fast.

Amused, my friend managed to directly sit on my head, as if I was a stool. 

“You really want me to k-kill me?”

“I’m your FM: I decide if you get to survive tonight.”

I remained silent. “FM…?”

“FM dude.” Dave kept talking, still sitting on me, as if this was such a natural way to talk to each other. “FM!”

“I don’t get it.”

“Too much blood rushing down your cock, fine.” he said, knowing exactly how true that statement was. “I’ll give you a hint then.”

Treating me like the wooden chair he soiled with his gas, Dave leaned a bit, as he pushed the next rip out… but after a few seconds nothing came out. 

“I’m brewing a big one, give me a moment.”

And we just remained there, silent, the stench of his ass almost forming a fog around me, the rough surface of his sagging jeans brushing through my hair. I heard Dave laughing, fully aware how weird that scene must have looked.

“Alright, here it comes for real. Ready?”

He didn’t even wait for an answer as an earthquake shook my skull, making my body shake down to my knees. The vibration literally made some drops of pre-cum leak out of my penis, further proof of my friend’s incredible powers. The fart, needless to say, was so loud it almost made me deaf: I wasn’t made of wood, but the sound of Dave’s blast bounced off the top of my head quite nicely, sounding like a loud, low-pitched chainsaw.

21 seconds. 21 fucking seconds. All natural, all as disgusting as it sounds. I didn’t even need to sniff as I was probably trapped in an invisible bubble of gas.

Finally, after wiggling his ass a bit so my hair would completely absorb that fart, Dave stood up, ripping a couple of small toots while doing so, and sat back where he was. He looked at me with a smirk, but couldn’t help but laugh noticing me startled facial expression.

I’ll just never get used to this.

“FM… Fart Master… Fuck you.” I said, shaking my head.

“If it's any consolation… you almost earned that immunity you wished for.”

This is all just a dumb kinky game for him. I couldn’t be happier, but also holy shit, the thin line between kink and torture was getting blurry with a friend like him.

“Just say that I earned it. It’s late, we’re both tired.” I tried to end this, not that I wasn’t enjoying it but come on, I couldn’t force my straight bud to do, well, this, even though it was his idea to begin with. 

“Fine. One last roll.” he agreed.

I shook the dice in my fist for a few seconds before finally letting it fall one last time on the table. It bounced a couple of times, I could feel the tension rising.

And finally…

No.

No fucking way.

There’s no way this wasn’t scripted somehow.

“Uhhh… Dave?” I dared to turn to him. He was already laughing.

A Nat 20, a fucking Nat 20, something that I always crave during our D&D sessions, but this fucking dice decided that a FART session was more important apparently.

“That’s gonna be a critical hit, Tim.” Dave stated, standing up again.

“No way you got that much gas already.” I bravely said.

My friend laughed again, that usual smirk drawn on his face.

“I’m just gonna blast you on command for a bit.”

The fact that he said that sentence so naturally made me leak a bit more.

“uhhh… thanks?” I said, my brain now completely devoid of any blood.

“Yeah sure, just lie down so I can put an end to this test.” I obeyed. “And also to your face, obviously.” he added, pointing down at me.

Once again, as if it was something completely mundane, Dave waited for me to lie down, so he could simply sit directly on my face, treating my head as part of the couch. Then, he just sat down on me as he said, the sagging jeans-clad asscheeks basically devouring my face. I couldn’t see anything but some details of the seams and textures of my friend’s jeans; at the same time, I felt the warmness, the stench, the sweat, all at once. I was used to my bro blasting me up close and personal, but this time it felt particularly overwhelming.

He wasn’t crushing me (I’m sure he was doing his best not to), but that doesn’t mean that I couldn’t feel most of his weight all over my face. As his ass was resting on my nose, he put one leg on the table in front of the couch and leaned a bit, so he could ease some gas out… or rather in. 

As promised, Dave was gonna fart-face me on command for the critical hit. He masterfully sucked some air in, showing off his skills smoothly. I knew this was gonna be a fucking fart concert. I was both horny and scared, because my bro is indeed the Fart Master, as he bragged earlier.

His ass stopped making noises, a sign that what came in was going to be blasted out soon.

“I mean… all of this to earn something you had all along. What a thirsty bitch.”

I heard Dave say, playfully mockin- wait what? All along? But I didn’t have time to say anything back because of the loud fart that pierced through my eyes and ears. It sounded a bit more “airy” than his previous ones, given that it was on command, but oddly enough it’s like there was a mix of natural gas in there as well: the stench of spoiled beer definitely helped prove it.

The fart lasted 11 seconds, way “shorter” than the previous ones, but as I said, this was gonna be a concert, so as soon as the first blast ended, Dave started sucked air in again, faster than before, as another ass-thunder quickly went down my throat, loud and proud as my friend does them.

Basically, this concert was gonna be one long ass fart with many interruptions.

This one was more of a series of 7 loud long rips ripped back-to-back, lasting about 3 seconds each. It was insane: it was like somebody was shooting at my face point blank with a fucking shotgun.

At this point I started to wonder whether Dave knew I was still there, as he kept ripping farts as if there wasn’t anyone lying under his ass.

Now he was sitting full-weight on me, almost making me fuse with the couch. He spread his legs wide again, as much as his sagging jeans allowed him to, so he could easily release an impressive, meaty, loud, almost wet rip all over that sweaty mess that used to be my face. Now that’s definitely a mix of natural and on-command, and the fact it was slightly wet only made the smell burn my nostrils even more.

This one fart didn’t want to end instead, my bro’s ass roared all over my face like one of those beasts we fought earlier during our D&D session. A display of cocky, disgusting manliness I’ll never get used to, given how skilled Dave is.

Finally, after around 20 seconds, his ass went silent again. I heard Dave whistle in relief.

“You ok down there bro?” I managed to heard him say. So he does know I’m still here!

He got up just a bit, his ass hovering (or rather, looming) over me, just enough to let me slip out of that gas chamber. I sat back to my place as he let his ass sit on the couch again, this time without having me under it. I managed to give a quick look at my friend, who had this silly smile on his face. He was visibly disgusted, but also oddly amused.

“Than-“ but he cut me off.

“You know, you totally earned your poison immunity bro.” he paused for a few seconds. “I mean… that’s what I’d say if you didn’t already have one all along.”

Oh, right. “What the fuck does that mean…?” I asked, sounding a bit more rude than I wanted to.

Dave laughed. “I actually found our conversation from months ago.” he showed his phone to me. “This is the part where we agreed on your immunity, but I forgot.” He chuckled.

I skimmed through the messages and, indeed, I was right.

“You sick bastard.” I sneered at him.

He found it hilarious. I found it… well, I too thought that it was hilariously hot as fuck, but I had to fulfil my role of being a pain in the ass.

“So you just wanted to torture me.”

“Not at first.” he admitted. “Then again, it’s not like I need an excuse to blast you, right?” he then said, winking at me. “Plus, I’m a Bard, I can make music with everything.” he then added, patting his ass.

I just didn’t know what to say, so I did what every mighty Paladin would have done: I simply stood up, not caring about my very visible, damp, huge boner, and went beating my meat in the bathroom upstairs.

Honestly, if Dave took his role of DM as seriously as his role of being my FM, our D&D sessions would go much more smoothly.

The End

#eproctophilia #davefarts #fart kink #malefarts #fart story

[dontbipanicjonsa]

Been thinking about Dark!D*ny and

I think for me, it comes down to two things:

The utter hypocrisy re: her supposed abolitionist ways

The escalation of her power and the destruction she wreaks

Because I can't really fault her for smothering Drogo. I can't really fault her for letting Viserys die. I can't really fault her for murdering the shit out of Kraznys. I can't fault her for freeing slaves (as if). I can't even fault her for wanting revenge.

Let me explain-

I think if we compare the capture of the Lhazareen and the capture of Meereen, it paints a very clear picture of where D*ny is headed.

The Lhazareen

Ok. First, the whole 'D*ny has no power' argument has to stop. She's the khaleesi. Her husband is the khal. Of course she has power.

I'm NOT saying Drogo isn't absolutely monstrous to her. I'm not saying she chose to marry him. I'm not commenting on their relationship at all.

In a patriarchy, (upper class) women gain property/power/control over others in exchange for sexual/reproductive service. So D*ny, simply by virtue of being the khal's wife, or simply because she's pregnant with his kid (neither of which were her choice) has power.

For comparison, Cersei, who is abused by her husband, the king, still derives power from her position as Queen and mother of the princes/princess. See what I mean?

?? Drogo decides they're gonna sail to Westeros and gives his rousing speech because D*ny was almost assassinated. The attack on the Lhazareen was done in service of D*ny's conquest of Westeros. Let's repeat.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

No, it wasn't for Rhaego, he's a fucking foetus he doesn't HAVE interests. It's not for Drogo, he doesn't give two shits about Westeros. IT"S FOR D*NY. And that is her 'power' in action. Her power, that she derives through her husband, because PatRiarChy. But power.

And you know what? Sure. It's fine. She didn't know what a bloodbath it was going to be. That's not her fault. And yeah, she IS ready to accept the bloodshed as necessary collateral. That is...a bit more questionable. But she does try to help some women.

Does she only help them because she can see their suffering? Probably. There's plenty of suffering not in her direct line of sight that she allows. But ok. Sure. It's not her job to save everyone (nevermind that they're suffering to further her interests).

The whole 'save them by marrying them to their rapists' thing makes me more sad than enraged. It's tragic. It's D*ny, making women marry their rapists in the same book where she married her rapist...thinking she's ok, thinking they would be ok too. It's the cycle of abuse in motion, right before our eyes.

This is an explanation I accept. All that bullshit about how powerless D*ny is? Pls. Women and children are being enslaved right there on the same page, so D*ny can win the IT, and she's powerless ?? stfu

Ok. I get it. She's not powerless, but how far does her power extend? COULD she have gotten away with getting all the newly enslaved Lhazareen freed? We'll never know. Does that absolve her?

Slaves, Dany thought. Khal Drogo would drive them downriver to one of the towns on Slaver's Bay. She wanted to cry, but she told herself that she must be strong. This is war, this is what it looks like, this is the price of the Iron Throne.

NO.

This- the capture and enslavement of the Lhazareen people- is a direct consequence of Viserys' ambitions, which is a torch that D*ny has now willingly taken up. THAT ^^^ is a price she's willing to pay, or rather- make others pay.

Buuuut it's fine. She's inexperienced, and her power is certainly limited, and hey she tried. Sure. Moving on.

Meereen

(TW: mentions of rape)

Fast forward four books and D*ny is approximately 100x times more powerful than she was in the Lhazareen scene. Let's see how she does now-

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dressed up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father's household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father's house, and the other had joined the queen's soldiers as one of the Mother's Men. He wanted them both hanged.

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

xxx

A former slave came, to accuse a certain noble of the Zhak. The man had recently taken to wife a freedwoman who had been the noble's bedwarmer before the city fell. The noble had taken her maidenhood, used her for his pleasure, and gotten her with child. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble's bastard as his own. Dany granted him the gold, but not the gelding. "When he lay with her, your wife was his property, to do with as he would. By law, there was no rape." Her decision did not please him, she could see, but if she gelded every man who ever forced a bedslave, she would soon rule a city of eunuchs.

SO anyway how is D*ny rating on the 'tried to prevent rape' scale?

She even went so far as to summon Irri, hoping her caresses might help ease her way to rest, but after a short while she pushed the Dothraki girl away. Irri was sweet and soft and willing, but she was not Daario.

Oh look she's in the negative :/

How's she doing on the slavery front? She's got all the power now...

"Your slave Missandei." Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

"My servant. I have no slaves." Dany did not understand. "Why does she weep?"

xxx

There was no slavery in the free city of Pentos. Nonetheless, they were slaves.

...

D*enerys spends five books gaining power. How does this affect the condition of her people? Is the condition of the Meereenese better than the condition of the Lhazareen had been, all the way back in the first book? No. It's worse.

People have still been raped. People have still been enslaved/remained enslaved. People have starved. People have been brutally murdered. And at a much larger scale than book 1.

This is what it comes down to. D*ny is a villain because her climb to power is characterized by death and destruction, always. Isn't that the trademark of a villain?

D*ny is a girl who truly believes in her own PR, but when you look at her words and actions-

"The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh," Dany told the girl, "but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me . . ."

"They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that," the slaver answered. "Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all."

xxx

"No," she pleaded. "Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …"

...how much of her actions are truly altruistic? How much is performative?

Despite her anti-slavery rhetoric, D*ny consistently benefits from slavery- and slavery flourishes.

Despite her 'oh no I don't wanna bring death and destruction anywhere', her actions continue to bring exactly that- and it never stops her from doing it all over again the next time.

Not to dismiss her internal struggle. But really. Being upset at the thought that you might be a bad person doesn't make you a good person. For that matter, being worried if you're going mad or not...doesn't mean you're not (not that I'm saying she is). Seriously, where did that logic even come from? Ultimately, her internal struggle makes her a more compelling character, sure, but it doesn't actually make her a better person.

The point is, her story is absolutely rooted in hypocrisy. Her destructiveness only escalates with her power. Her so-called good intentions never pan out- because her own actions undermine them. And because she has the self-awareness of a pigeon, she never gets better.

She IS the villain who thinks she's a hero. She isn't just a villain because she's done bad things, but because she's utterly unaware (or deliberately obtuse) of the bad things she's done, and so she's incapable of learning, and so she's only getting worse.

Take a step outside her POV and it suddenly becomes clear.

Let's recap.

D*ny has-

Wayy more power in Meereen. Less in Lhazareen

D*ny did-

Less to prevent rape in Meereen. More in Lhazareen

D*ny benefitted from-

Slavery in Meereen. Slavery in Lhazareen

D*ny was-

A slaver in Meereen. A slaver in Lhazareen

D*ny wreaked-

Death and destruction in Meereen. Death and destruction in Lhazareen.

D*ny, riding high on her power-

Ordered the murder of children. And much more.

Power is NOT good for D*ny.

#dark!dany #anti daenerys targaryen #d**y stans do NOT interact #yea I censored her name twice just to be sure

[dameronology]

cold coffee in the morning {poe dameron}

summary: aka the one where you and poe can't seem to work out your commitment issues, and also the one where c3po is the unsung hero (based loosely on the song by ed sheeran)

warnings: language, brief innuendos

enjoy! idk why i'm writing this at 3am but we mooooove

- jazz xx

Poe Dameron had never needed another person before - then he met you, and the idea of ever existing as an independent being for the rest of his living years had suddenly seemed like the most unappealing thing since Luke Skywalker's blue-milk cheesecake. The way you'd whirlwhinded into his life with your gorgeous smile and contagious laugh had knocked the usually-suave pilot completely and utterly onto the floor. Bruised ass aside, he wasn't mad about it. He was happy to have you in his life in whatever way you'd let him.

And what way that was exactly, he didn't know.

You were friends; close, close friends. Bonded for life through your shared goofy humour and seemingly-endless banter. Then you did things that friends didn't normally do - at least not in Poe's experience - and you would act like it was nothing. As if your nights spent together and the whispers you lost between the sheets meant as much to you as the things you did for your other friends, like stopping Finn from tripping on his shoe laces or picking up R2-D2 when he toppled over. It was as though every-time you crossed that line, you immediately regretted it; then, a few days later, you'd decide that you missed Poe, and you'd repeat the same mistake again and again, like you were trapped in a time loop of love and pain.

The feeling would stay with Poe for days; your hands tangled in his hair, his skin against yours, laughter rippling through clashing teeth and soft lips. The way you fell beside each other, sharing highs and secrets and inside jokes; the way you would reference one of your late night talks in shared conversations with friends, and his brown eyes would flick to the ground, cheeks burning red at the fact you'd remembered. It made his heart-rate pick up and palms sweaty.

And sometimes, just sometimes, it would make up for the way you'd leave in the morning; the way he'd arise to find a you-size hole in his bed and heart, and a cup of half-finished caff on the side. With his brain tinged with the remains of a hangover from the previous night, he'd pour the cold beverage down the sink and go about his day.

Poe did manage to catch you one morning; he'd purposely set his alarm so that he would stir earlier than you and rest assured, you were still dead to the world when he came around. The sun outside was still rising, the sky a dull pink-and-blue, the day fresh with hope and brimming with potential for heartbreak. It felt unnatural to see you quiet and peaceful, and not running your mouth and poking fun at anyone who would listen. There was a reason that C3PO avoided you like the plague - it wasn't his fault he was an easy target.

"You watching me sleep, creep?" You murmured.

"Just enjoying the view." Poe replied. He rolled over, crossing his arms behind his head. "You're usually gone by the time I'm awake."

You peeled one eye open, your one-eyed glare enough to send a shiver down his spine. "Don't be passive aggressive, Poe. Just say it."

"Isn't it a little early to be so feisty?"

"Isn't it a little early to make back-handed comments?" You shot back.

"Sorry. I was trying to find a way to bring up such a touchy subject."

You reached across to squeeze his check. "And you did a great job, curly."

"Alright, that's enough of that." He swatted your hand away. "I did want to talk to you about it, though."

"What is there to talk about?" You sat up, brow furrowing.

"You're confusing." Poe began. "During the day, we're friends. At night, you can't keep your hands off of me."

"It's kind of sexy and mysterious." You tried to joke.

"Sexy and mysterious is tiring."

"Sexy and mysterious is also late for work." You quipped.

You rolled out of bed, reaching for your strewn clothes. Without thinking, you pulled one of Poe's shirts over your head, grabbing your boots and socks. So many of his clothes had just snuck their way into your wardrobe - all of your friends had noticed it, but none of them commented on it. Everybody knew that there was something going on between you, but they were wise enough than to point it out. There had been one new guy who tried to ask, but he'd quickly been shut down.

"I'll see you tonight?" You asked, tugging on Poe's your jacket.

His brown eyes lingered on the floor for a moment, before flicking towards you, holding your gaze in a chokehold. "I don't think we should do this again."

You wavered for a moment, a wave of guilt clouding your judgement for a moment. This had never been about feelings - at least not for you. It had just a bit of fun; a bit of fooling around with a hot pilot. You hadn't meant to get in so deep, or get to a point where you were dismissing his feelings in favour of your own. It was more of a survival instinct than anything - breaking his heart to save your own.

That was it: lack of trust, presence of fear. All things that stopped you taking the full plunge, simply for the worry of letting him hurt you - or worst, you hurting him. Maybe it was a little late to start worrying about the latter. That ship had sailed a long time ago. Maybe it had sunk too.

"Poe-" you began, before pausing. "I have a lot going on in my life. I just don't have room for anything real right now."

"I thought the same." He was still staring right at you. "So I made room."

"It's not that simple." You reminded him. "It's not like...decluttering a room. I can't just Marie Kondo that shit and declare my love for you."

Poe froze at the mention of the L-word. It had been an elephant in the room for a long, long time - but it was outdone by the presence of bigger elephants. Like the ongoing war, and the fact that mortality had never seemed so fucking relevant. It was something you wanted to put a pin in for later, but later wasn't something that was guaranteed these days.

"Fine." He shrugged. "Good talk."

--

The guilt weighed on your brain for days, like a lead hat made of bullshit and regret.

You hadn't realised how much of a hole Poe Dameron left in your life until he was gone -- it was massive, like someone had broken into your home and ripped out two of the walls during a harsh winter storm. Everything felt a little colder and more confusing, and the amount of times you'd had to resist temptation to find him and beg for forgiveness was astounding.

The only reason you hadn't done so was because you knew what you would have to do. Give into your feelings, and let yourself become fully and entirely his. Let him into your life and into your heart. All the bullshit you'd spewed about not having room had been just that: bullshit. You didn't need to make room for him in your heart when he, entirely and wholly, was your heart. And he'd taken a little bit of it with him when he walked away - well, when you'd walked away.

Is this how it felt to be the villain?

"Is everything okay, master?" The sound of your favourite droid brought you back to the present. "You're being uncharacteristically quiet. On average, you've usually said 356 words by 9AM."

"You keep count?" You glanced up from your paperwork, eyebrow quirked. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Eight of ten times that you've said that, you haven't been fine-"

"- just give it a rest, Threepio." You cut him off. "Please?"

"If there's anything I can help with, let me know." He replied. "A droid's logic can be surprisingly helpful."

"I'm fine but thank-" you stopped in your tracks, pondering for a moment.

Logic. That was certainly something you lacked - the part of your brain that was supposed to be rational was too busy thinking about hot pilots.

"Master?"

"Sorry." You blinked. "Maybe I'll have your input on something."

"Please, go on."

"I love someone and he loves me." You said. "It's just very complicated."

"If a problem can be reduced down to seven words, I would not class that as a problem." Threepio said. "I would say a problem is at least thirty words or more."

You thinned your eyes at him. "What are you saying, goldilocks?"

"Perhaps, your problem is only a problem because you think it is." He replied. "When you lay things out and look at them logically, it can make more sense."

"Logic isn't my strong-point. You know that better than anyone."

"You love Master Dameron and he loves you-"

"- I never mentioned names."

"My apologies." Threepio said. "I was simply reading the room."

"Right."

"Remove your emotions, and those are the facts." He continued.

It was bad enough when Poe was right, but it was even worse when C3PO was. But, for all his theatrics and whining, he was right. Decisions made with logic rather than emotion always had a better outcome. It was plain and simple: you and Poe loved one another. Everything else - your fear and his dismissiveness and your collective confusion - only existed because you let it. But your feelings for each other? That was something you couldn't help.

"Right - thanks." You murmured. "I'll be right back."

You quickly stood up, tossing aside your datapad and immediately exiting the room. The base was small, and Poe was never that far away, even when the room was on the furthest side of the base. It was also your favourite place in the entire camp; it was covered in photos of you and him and your friends, and it was always warm. The mixture of sentimental clutter and little knick-knacks, paired with the gentle smell of his aftershave clinging to the sheets and clothes scattered around, made it feel like an actual home.

You didn't bother knocking - that formality had gone out the window long ago. Instead, you took a deep breath and gently opened the door. There was no certainty that he would even be in - you could only hope. The chances of him being anywhere else were pretty slim.

They'd worked in your favour today, because Poe was stood by his coffee machine, a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was wild and curly and there were still drops of water on his back.

He turned around when he saw you, brow furrowing. Mostly because he had never seen you so breathless and sweaty, but also because he hadn't expected you to ever talk to him again. He'd always known you to stick by your decisions - he normally admired your stubbornness, but as of recent, it had been fucking exhausting.

"Hi-"

"- I love you." You suddenly blurted. "Hi."

"I-" Poe paused, putting down his coffee. "What?"

"I love you. More than anything in the world, ever." You shrugged. "That terrifies me, but I can deal with fear."

"You can. You're pretty bad-ass." He casually nodded.

"Right." You smiled. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say that."

"Hey, it's okay." He gently smiled. "Come here."

You met half way across the room, bodies colliding in a tight hug. His warm, post-shower skin felt like heaven against yours, large hands dragging up and down your back. He consumed everyone one of your senses at once, but mostly, he consumed your ability to think. Your brain was so over-loaded with feelings that the rest of it completely broke down and malfunctioned - kind of like the time you spilt coffee on BB-8.

"I love you too, by the way." Poe gently murmured. You let out a small chuckle.

"I know." You smiled.

"What made you say it now?"

"Threepio said something about logic." You muttered. "The only logical thing for two people who love each other to do is be together, right?"

"I mean, I can think of other things-"

"- Poe!" You whacked his shoulder.

It was though you had untangled your feelings, and the only thing left was a line that went straight from him to you.

"You're right." Poe said. "Thank you for realising it."

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you for being patient."

"It's worth it." He couldn't help but grin. "Do you want some caff? It's still warm."

tags: @anetteaneta @poestardust @marvelinsanity

#i want a POE now please #idk why i even wrote this #hoe well #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron blurb #poe dameron x reader #poe imagine #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fluff #star wars x you #star wars angst #star wars imagines

[lovenona]

and i repeat: anthropo-ceramics geto suguru is the type of toxic where he'd take your virginity, make a sculpture about the experience, then smash it on the ground as a metaphor

this ask is my entire life. this ask is my lifeblood. everyone please saddle up for the ride of a lifetime, otherwise known as 1500ish words of toxic geto featuring sukuna being a good fucking friend – please continue at ur own risk this absolutely contains geto being a pretentious toxic fucker and mentions of virginity/first time but yes i guarantee it does have a happy ending (link to the full college! cinematic universe here) 

let’s begin with the basics – why wouldn’t you fuck geto suguru? he has the type of beauty that lingers on the back of your eyelids even after you’ve long since departed from him; it’s the kind of fragrant, lasting beauty that you think sculptors muse over when they coax life from their marble. he’s smooth, like still water, and calming, like the sound of birds rustling and leaves swaying at dawn. he is helen: a beauty that nations would go to war over. 

and sure, he is pretentious, the kind of toxic pretentiousness that festers inside of all pretty boys who call themselves “leftists” but can’t be bothered to call their mothers or to care about their partners. but it’s the way he speaks, the way he looks at you with such fervor and attention in his eyes that you’re utterly willing to let him break your heart. 

and maybe it’s not often that someone looks at you the way geto does: it’s not often that someone looks at you like they want you, body and soul. and it feels nice to be cared about, to be flirted with, even if the figure doing the flirting condescends you in a way that is different, harsher, colder, than the way ryomen sukuna does. 

so geto suguru takes you on dates. after the avant-garde poetry reading, in which you feigned excitement as he recited a poem on global imperialism that you didn’t quite vibe with, he brings you to local bookstores with overpriced yuppie memoirs, farmers’ markets with organic fruit, human rights protests and philosophy meetings where greasy boys bitterly discuss the communist manifesto. he takes you to dinner, too, to vegan restaurants that you can’t help but rave about on yelp later and to bars where they serve your cocktails in mason jars. 

geto suguru, for all his faults, is incredibly lighthearted with you; he makes you feel beautiful and desirable and warm, even when he’s explaining anthropology to you with such intense vigor that you lose track of his meaning. after everything, you’d be lying if you said you regretted your time with him.

after awhile you let geto fuck you – and yes, he was your first time, which you were naturally quite nervous about. but you appreciated him because he waited for you; he never pressured you into behaviors you didn’t want; he never asked you for services you weren’t ready to provide. and so when you slept with him, after an invigorating open-mic night at the fair-trade coffee shop near campus, you felt ready for the intimacy. geto made you feel attractive, comfortable, safe. he praised you the whole night, gave you caresses that lit you up like fireworks, provided such a level of god-tier aftercare you still reminisce about it, even now. 

but that’s the thing about anthropology-ceramics major geto suguru: he’s quietly toxic. he’s a poison that sneaks up on you, infecting your bloodstream when you least expect it. 

you weren’t sure if geto wanted to pursue a relationship, either. you’d fucked, sure, and you went on dates, but he was always the type to avoid long-term commitments. rumors float around campus of the many partners he’s ghosted, of the relationships he exploited for his own “artistic musings.” they aren’t loud rumors, to be sure, but they hang around his aura like a strange, ghostly scent. 

geto is a pretentious little fuck. you’ve known it and agreed to enter his circle anyway. maybe you hoped, perhaps naively, that the rumors would simply not apply to you.

which was a stupid idea. three weeks after the experience, since which you have only spent one-on-one time with geto only a few times, mostly to talk about school, the art department hosts an art show. it’s a regular occurrence, where the art students show off their best works, grad students display their in-progress theses, and outsiders can browse the displays, drink wine, offer to give outstanding students jobs and internships. it’s truly a big fucking deal for the art department; many of the school’s the most successful artists received their first acclaim here. 

you’ve always enjoyed attending, even if the level of talent and expertise sometimes intimidates you, even if you know you’ll never be on this level. you know sukuna’s got a few paintings lined up to be on display – paintings you’ve modeled for, drawings you’ve watched him labor over for hours on end. you reckon that for all your begrudging time together, you might as well show your face in support. 

but what you didn’t count on was geto’s contribution.

at this art show, there are, every now and then, some interactive performances, speeches, explanations on certain works. so it happens that from the back of the auditorium you watch geto take the stage, wheeling a small, white sculpture behind him. from your perspective it could have been a flower – perhaps a lily, but you can’t be certain. 

(geto always did like sculpting precious, dainty flowers.)

he doesn’t call you by name, but he doesn’t have to. he talks at great length in that smooth voice of his about the construct of virginity, the purity culture plaguing the globe, the emotional sensitivity of having your first time. geto seguru tells an avid audience what you felt about fucking for the first time. he recreates the entire night for two hundred listeners: he recalls the foreplay, the insecurity, the orgasms. he doesn’t call you by name. he doesn’t have to. 

he may have asked for your consent the first time. but he certainly did not ask your permission to do this. 

you’re not sure if you should laugh or cry when geto dramatically smashes his own sculpture, citing the “destruction of virginity” and  the need “to demolish a social desire to classify one’s morality based upon their sexual activity” and “the symbolic popping of the cherry” among other phrases that are utter bullshit. you’re watching the fragments dance across the stage and you feel exploited. you feel used in a way that feels utterly worse than anything else geto could have done.

did he ever like you? or were you simply a muse for this moment? 

you’re about to ditch the art show and go wallow in self pity at your apartment when a familiar presence slides in beside you.

“that’s kinda fucked,” sukuna says, hands in his jacket pockets. he’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye. his tone tells you he’s joking. maybe he just doesn’t know. “no one gives a shit about virginity constructs anymore, idiot.” 

“yeah,” you respond, but the energy is gone. you feel strange, like you’re hovering outside of yourself. your head hurts: you’re angry. you decide you’d like to cry when you get home. “what a piece of shit.” it comes out strangled and lost. 

sukuna notices the dejection in your voice, the sag in your shoulders, the way you’re just barely able to hold yourself together. he may be arrogant, not ryomen sukuna is not mean.

a familiar arm around your shoulders, keeping your sanity together. “shit’s lame. let’s get the fuck out of here.” it’s a phrase that captures everything that remains unsaid between you: i’m going to beat the shit out of geto the next time i see him. that’s absolutely unbelievable.

you never explicitly told sukuna about your weird relationship with geto: you didn’t have to. it was always evident to the both of you. it was written in the way you’d look a little bit longer in geto’s direction, in the way you let yourself be strung along and become someone else. you’ve hung around sukuna long enough that you know his body language and that he knows yours. you’ve hung around sukuna enough that there are a lifetime of stories that never need to be told. 

you nod. “yeah.” thank you. i know. 

you’re both uncharacteristically silent when you exit the auditorium, when you collect sukuna’s belongings that are still lounging by his artwork as you prepare to leave. ryomen sukuna is famous for never shutting the fuck up. but as you button your coat, he’s silent, and it’s strange. comfortable.

“thank you,” you say with uncharacteristic softness as he throws a sketchbook back into his backpack and zips it shut. 

“why?”

“for asking my permission,” you say, gesturing to the gallery wall behind him, to the painting of you – “eros” – that you had posed for awhile back. even now, you find that it captures an essence you did not know you possessed. “he didn’t. ask, i mean.” 

ryomen sukuna has always craved your attention. and maybe he’s glad he’s got it back – but it feels sour. he doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking upset for you. he doesn’t understand why he wants so badly for you to be happy again. what he does understand is that he plans for retribution. 

“that’s fucked,” he settles on. “what bastard doesn’t ask for consent?”

you smile – and he does too, one that’s less feral and almost kind. and so you fall back into routine, already, some kind of weight lifting from your shoulders. ryomen sukuna may be a menace, but you can rely on him, trust him: that much you know. 

“you know,” sukuna says offhandedly as you exit the building and enter the parking lot. “i know where geto’s car is, i’m just saying. and i’d be lying if i said i didn’t have an extra precision knife in my backpack right now.”  

#IDK YALL #SMTH ABT THIS JUST MAKES ME FERAL #IF U NEED A FOLLOWUP U KNOW WHERE THE ASK BOX IS #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #adele writes #artist!jjk #letters to adele #geto.seguru #ryomen.sukuna

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 15

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” I protest. “You hurt me all the time.”

Previous

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Read chapter 15 on AO3 or read below:

The day is bright and pleasant, but the sunlight and soft breeze are an assault on my senses after my time underground. I limp to the ambulance, which is parked on the grass, rear doors open, waiting for me. I ease myself to sit in the back, next to Cardan, who inexplicably has a blanket tightly wrapped around his shoulders. When I’m no longer standing, I sigh. I’d thought that after sitting and lying down for days I’d be desperate to move, but it turns out I’m actually very tired. When no one is looking at us, Cardan leans over and nuzzles my nose with his.

I smile at him weakly. Everything is too much and not enough. It seems to me that I am watching Madoc and Balekin talk to the detectives from very far away, like they are characters on a TV show. I just want to go back to the Amagansett house—or my actual house, hours away—and curl up in a bed that’s mine. But that fantasy leads to complications too. What will Oriana say when she learns what I’ve done? What will Taryn say?

Not wanting to spiral, I search for anything else to talk about. “Are you cold?” I ask Cardan, glancing at the blanket.

“Oh, no. It’s for shock or something.” He looks down at himself. His kitschy t-shirt is partially obscured now. “But, you know, free blanket.”

“Yeah,” I say, like that makes perfect sense. My head is spinning. “Was Balekin… happy to see you?”

He sets his jaw. “He was glad I wasn’t dead, I guess. But that’s about the only thing I did right.”

I look down as my fingers curl into my palms. I don’t examine how much I want to wrap my hands around Balekin’s throat. “My dad knows,” I whisper. “About us. I think I’ve talked him out of killing you.”

“That’s good. I’d really rather not die after surviving all of this already.”

“You’re taking this really well.”

Cardan shrugs. “If we’re bonded now, and your father isn’t going to kill me, that means I’m part of your family. Dain is dead, and Balekin will find it harder to touch me.”

“Oh,” I say dully. No wonder he wasn’t that mad at me mating him. We can’t stay in the basement forever, but he still has a way out. It makes sense. I can hardly blame him.

“Not that I’m necessarily thrilled that your dad could have any sway over me, given that he’s maybe a murderer and almost as scary as you are.”

“Right.”

He cocks his head at me, sensing my reticence. “Jude.”

I look away.

He leans over again and nudges the nape of my neck with his nose. “Hey.”

“What.”

Cardan chuckles, but it sounds nervous. “Jude, I’ve thought about mating with you since I was fourteen. And back then it made me feel panicky and trapped—”

“That’s just what every omega wants to hear.”

“God dammit. Look, I’ve always been afraid to want things—not clothes and shoes and shit, things that matter—because they’re always ruined. I always screw them up, or someone else screws it up for me. This is…” Out of the corner of my eye, I see him look down at his hands. “I didn’t want it to happen this way, because who would? But I want to help you through the next heat, and the next one. Actually do it right. I want to be your mate, Jude.”

I turn back around to stare at him, incredulous. “You want that?”

He nods, slowly.

“But you—you didn’t. For days, you didn’t. You held off and it should have been impossible if you actually—wanted me.”

“Well, it felt impossible.” He lets out another nervous chuckle. “I wanted you so bad, but more than that I wanted you to want me. I didn’t want to just go and mount you or whatever the hell I’m supposed to do. For once, I wanted to be better. Sounds crazy, right?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “It does. You wanted to mate with me so bad that you didn’t mate with me.”

“Jude. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” I protest. “You hurt me all the time.”

“Yeah, I did.” Cardan looks down at his knees. “But not like that. Never like that. I may have made some off-color jokes, but I would never have done what Valerian tried to do. I mean, I hoped I wouldn’t, and now I know.”

“You made me miserable.”

“I know.”

“I definitely shouldn’t want you as a mate.”

“No, I guess you shouldn’t.” Cardan sounds resigned, and hangs his head. “Well, the pheromone marker cleansing is kind of time-consuming and expensive and unpleasant, but I guess—”

I thought hurting him might feel good, but it just feels like a hollow pang in my chest. I ask, “You want me to be your mate, though?”

He looks up at me with those dark eyes. “Yes,” he says.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He stares at me, a grin that he doesn’t dare unleash just yet tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yes. I hated you so much for so long because you smelled so good and you were so mean. So if you could stop being mean for a while, and you’ve proven you have, I think we could find some common ground.”

Cardan sniffs. “Well, I may have to remain a little mean. For the sake of my reputation.”

“We’ll see.”

“You don’t want me totally defanged, do you?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

He laughs, then he lowers his head to nuzzle again, this time at the bite mark he left on my neck. I am flooded by his delight. From nearby, someone clears their throat. We look up to find a paramedic standing in front of us, face half-hidden by a surgical mask, patiently waiting for us to submit ourselves to examination.

“Oh,” I say. “Uh.”

Cardan, who is utterly without shame, is grinning when he straightens up. “Actually, we’re both fine, thanks.”

“That’s for us to determine,” says the paramedic. Something about him is oddly familiar, but his height and build are totally nondescript. Where could I have seen him before? “To start, we’re going to make sure you’re not concussed.”

Cardan just groans.

The paramedic bends at the waist and takes a penlight out of his pocket. “Just look into the light here for me.”

That voice. It’s the voice. I narrow my eyes at him. It is weird, on second thought, that he’s wearing a mask. It’s not like we’re possibly carrying an infectious disease. Cardan raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t move as the light shines into one pupil. “This is a surprise,” he says, without blinking. “And also, you have to admit, pretty dumb.”

“Suicidal,” I hiss through my teeth. I’m strangely angry. They had to know what a risk it was to come back. They could have gotten away clean. “What are you guys doing here? If my dad catches you—”

“Are you going to tell him?” the Roach asks. He doesn’t sound too worried, which irks me.

I press my lips together, then say, “I should.”

Another of the paramedics kneels at my feet, his sandy head bent. The Ghost. Certainly less conspicuous than the Roach, with his scars. He’s tall, sure, but handsome in a way that’s totally generic. In fact, I’d have a difficult time describing him beyond “tall” and “symmetrical.” He picks up the leg that he shot to dress the wound, once again.

“We had to talk to you,” he says. Always to the point.

Suddenly I am sure that if I turned and looked behind me into the ambulance, the Bomb would wink at me from the driver’s seat. Part of me is relieved they’re okay, and the other part is baffled and horrified at my relief. But they did take care of us through some pretty gross and awful times. They kept me fed, kept me hydrated, kept us company. Maybe it’s natural to feel some degree of attachment.

“Why?” Cardan asks, baffled, as the Roach shines a light in his other eye. “You guys should be on a plane to Morocco by now.”

“Morocco?” I ask.

“It’s pretty. Also, no extradition policy.”

“Why do you even know that?”

Cardan shrugs.

“Look,” the Roach says, “we’re short on time. Your brother and Madoc are going to come over and tell you Dain killed himself out of shame when his plan was discovered. He left a note, confessing, yadda yadda. It’s bullshit. He didn’t commit suicide.”

“What?” Cardan and I ask, in unison.

I shake my head, as if trying to shake off our now unshakeable connection. “Then what happened to him?”

The Ghost doesn’t say anything, or even fully turn his head, but without lifting his eyes from my leg, he somehow indicates where Madoc and Balekin stand, in conversation with the police.

“No,” I whisper. It sounds naive, even to me, but I don’t want to believe Madoc is capable of those horrors, even though the fear our kidnappers expressed when they spoke of him seemed real. “No, it—Dain was a client, he and Madoc were friends—”

“Do you think that would matter if Dain went after Madoc’s family?” the Roach asks.

My stomach turns. “How do you know Dain didn’t kill himself?”

“Because he wouldn’t,” Cardan says quietly. “He’s Dain. He’d think he’s clever enough to find a way out, even if everyone was closing in on him, and he’d probably be right.”

“We don’t know exactly what happened,” the Roach continues. He makes a show of fiddling with the stethoscope around his neck. “We just know that he was increasingly agitated about the way negotiations were going, and then we suddenly had no contact. I went to his office, then to his place. Coroner beat me there. Single gunshot wound to the chest, pistol with his prints on it. Seemed open and shut.”

I sense Cardan’s horror, and look to see that he’s gone pale. I lay my hand on top of his. Something tells me that he doesn’t have much of an issue believing that Balekin is capable of murder, even of a brother. And Cardan clearly didn’t like Dain, but what does that mean for his safety?

“You couldn’t have waited around and told us this in the basement?” I ask, feeling again like I am observing this all from afar, watching a scene in a movie that just happens to star me.

“We didn’t know what Dain told them before he died, so we had to clear out pretty fast. Left your stuff with the cops so you’d be found, left the door unlocked so you could leave whenever you wanted. Besides.” He raises one eyebrow. “You guys were busy.”

I flush; it’s true that Cardan and I couldn’t and wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere once we’d finally given ourselves over to each other. But all of this is too much. “Well, we can’t trust you.”

“You can’t trust your dad,” the Ghost says. “We’ve never lied to you.”

“You did shoot her,” Cardan points out. “Most people would say that’s worse.”

The Ghost just shrugs.

“Look, believe us or don’t,” the Roach says. “But you have to admit that something’s rotten here. You’re going to need help. Eyes and ears. And I also hear that one of you is coming into a very large sum of money and a considerable amount of corporate influence in a little less than a year.”

“There it is,” I mutter.

But Cardan looks delighted. “Do you guys have a business card you can leave with me or something?”

“Are you planning to kidnap anybody?” I demand.

“No, but I could use the help,” Cardan admits. “He’s right. Once I come into that inheritance, there’s going to be a huge target on my back.”

“We’ll call you. In the meantime, you’ve got a clean bill of health.” The Roach pats his shoulder. “Good for you.”

“Thanks, man.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see two figures break away from the detectives and begin approaching us. I say, “You’d better clear out.”

The Roach doesn’t thank me, but he gives me a little nod before disappearing around the side of the ambulance, whistling. That’s what passes for honor among thieves, I suppose. The Ghost remains, having drawn the short straw, his generically handsome features apparently working to render him inconspicuous.

“How is she?” Madoc asks him. I make myself look up at his face and try not to think about how, if what the Roach said is true, he might have recently pulled the trigger on one of Cardan’s brothers. The other brother stands next to him, looking less sour than before.

The Ghost stands. “They’re both good to go,” he says. “It looks like she sprained her ankle a few days ago, but it’s healing well.”

“The wound on her leg?”

“Nothing serious.”

Madoc nods, and then turns to me. The Ghost melts back into the scenery as though he wasn’t even there to begin with. No mystery as to how he got that codename.

Balekin stands at Madoc’s side, both men casting shadows across our knees. Madoc’s arms are folded, and Balekin’s jaw is set. I see his eyes find my hand resting on top of Cardan’s, but for some reason I am not at all worried about censure. Not from him.

Balekin says, “We’ve been given leave to take you back to your homes to rest, provided you return tomorrow to give your statements to the police. No one here wishes to… prolong your ordeal.”

“Wait,” I say, my heartbeat picking up in my chest. “Wait. Nobody’s told us what’s going on. Where’s Dain? How do we know he won’t try again?”

“He’s dead,” Madoc declares. “When he realized he wasn’t going to get away with it, that he had no other recourse…”

I swallow. I had hoped he’d say something else, anything else. “Oh. I see.”

Cardan covers his discomfort with a snicker. “Well, good riddance.”

“We’re hoping you can help us fill in the rest of the gaps once you’re up to sharing what, exactly, happened over the past five days,” Balekin says.

“I don’t know how much help we’ll be,” Cardan replies, shrugging loosely. “If it was Dain, we never saw him. And the guys who took us all wore masks.”

I’m surprised at how easily he lies, but maybe I shouldn’t be. I have to reevaluate everything I thought about his childhood; it probably involved a lot of lying to Balekin. Madoc doesn’t seem to notice anything, and it’s hard to get bullshit by him. He just watches me with a quizzical expression.

“Well, maybe you’ll remember something useful after you’ve had your rest.” Balekin jerks his head toward the waiting car, already beginning to walk away, assuming Cardan will follow. “Come on.”

Cardan glances at me with uncertainty, then begins to stand. I take his hand again and pull him back down. “No.”

Balekin turns around. “What did you say?”

I stand now, keeping hold of Cardan’s hand. “I said ‘no.’ I’m sure you have business back in the city. Cardan can come stay with us.” I look at Madoc and try to reassure myself that he is the safer choice. “There’s plenty of room in the house.”

“There is,” Madoc agrees, his tone carefully neutral.

“So it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Balekin looks angry. He doesn’t want to lose his influence on Cardan. “That’s very generous, but I have just gotten my youngest brother back, and I’m not eager to let him out of my sight.”

“He’ll be under Madoc’s protection.”

“You have to admit, it does seem safer,” Cardan chimes in. He seems a little dumbstruck by the way the whole situation is unfolding. Maybe no one’s ever stood up to Balekin before. Certainly

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Balekin says, trying to loom over me. He is tall, but tall doesn’t faze me. “I’m his brother. I’ve been his guardian since he was a child. I will be taking him back.”

“Well, Cardan isn’t a child anymore. He’s an adult, and I’m his mate,” I say, sticking up my chin. “And he is coming with me.”

I yank hard on Cardan’s hand, bringing him to his feet, and start off toward the car Madoc came in. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cardan, smiling, give his brother a shrug. “Omegas,” he says. “What are you gonna do?”

What, indeed. I don’t even know what I am going to do. Everything that happened in the last one hundred and thirty-two hours seems to have pushed us so much further down the road to a strange and dangerous adulthood. I don’t know if either of us are ready for what lies ahead, much less ready to defy our dangerous parental figures or negotiate the relationship we’ll have once I’m in college.

But it doesn’t matter, not right now. Because I have just pulled off a bigger heist than the Ghost, the Roach, and the Bomb could ever dream of. Because Cardan’s hand is in mine. Because his smile is, as always, contagious, so I am smiling too. Because we survived our trial, so maybe we can survive anything. Because he would choose me, and I chose him. Because neither of us is alone. Because he is my mate.

The rest, we’ll figure out when it comes.

#jurdan #jurdan fanfic #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #tfota #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

[petersasteria]

Someday We’ll Know - Haz Osterfield

Pairing: Haz x Singer!Reader

Part 1:  Still Into You || Haz Osterfield Masterlist

* * * *

Hurt. When love is present, hurt would be just around the corner; lurking around to find the perfect time to strike. It's the storm after the calm. No one ever talks about what we should do after we get hurt. You see, hurt is inevitable. No one knows when or how we'll get hurt, but it's inevitable and it just happens. Everyone wishes they could have known beforehand, so that they could be prepared. Well, no one's ever prepared.

Love is a battlefield; it's war. Love is a war and we are love's soldiers. Before we go into war, we tell ourselves what we should and what we should not do. But when we're at war itself, we lose all control and we're clueless. We tell ourselves to prepare, but when it's actually happening, we forget all the things we prepared for; we forget why we prepared in the first place.

Maybe that's why we get hurt. We forget to secure ourselves. Unlike love, hurt only has a few questions. They say love is the most complicated thing, but let's not forget that hurt is complicated too. Sometimes, we hurt first before we love. An example of this would be if you get hurt that your friend started dating. Only to realize that you were hurt, because you actually love them and it was kind of late to realize it.

Is hurt a good thing? Or is hurt a bad thing? Are pain and hurt one and the same? Why do we get hurt? Do we hurt when we hurt other people? Is hurt a form of love?

There are a lot more questions. Like love, answers about hurt may vary depending on who you ask. Everyone's hurt levels are different and everyone hurts differently.

Hurt is both a good thing and a bad thing. It feels bad, but because it feels bad, it becomes a good thing. You're probably asking, 'how come it becomes a good thing?'. It becomes a good thing, because now, you're fully aware that whatever environment you're in is bad. It's a warning.

Hurt is a form of warning before a heartbreak. The moment you feel hurt, spare yourself from heartbreak and just leave. Or you could fix it with love. But not all problems should be solved with love. See? It's complicated. There are so many should's and shouldn't's.

Love and hurt get along, because they're both complicated. And because they're both complicated and they get along, it's the perfect concoction for what makes us human. Loving is not wrong. Hurting is not wrong, either. Love and hurt makes us wiser and stronger that's why it's the perfect concoction for making us human.

Like love, hurt is inevitable. They go together, after all. If they go together, was love supposed to hurt? Was love all about hurting? Was it possible to love someone who hurt you? Was it possible to hurt someone you love? If all the answers are 'yes', then we've finally answered one question about love. We partly figured out what love is. Last time, we learned that:

Love is complicated. Some people say that love wasn't supposed to hurt. If we get hurt, it wasn't love.

If love was all about hurting, let's debunk that and answer the questions instead.

Was it possible to love someone who hurt you? Yes, because at some point in life, we loved them with our whole being before they hurt us.

Was it possible to hurt someone you love? Absolutely. Whether you intended it or not, it's still possible to hurt someone you love.

It's been two years since Y/N and Harrison broke up. The two twenty-five year olds would have been dating for twelve years. They would've been engaged. Harrison had a ring prepared, after all. He bought it after Y/N's visit all those years ago. He didn't propose because he wanted to wait.

Waiting. True love waits until you regret not shooting your shot in the first place. If Harrison knew that they'd break up years later, he would have proposed then and there. If he did that, Y/N would've said yes and they would've been happily married. They would've started a family.

But if he did that, Y/N wouldn't have been a singer. He knew that she'd decide to settle with him rather than focus on a singing career. He didn't want that. So he guessed that he made the right decision to not propose.

Both Harrison and Y/N didn't know what to do. They've literally been in a committed and serious relationship for ten years and now they didn't know what it was like to be single. The last time they were both single was when they were twelve and they couldn't exactly do what their single twelve year old selves did.

As each day passed by, both of them were unknowingly thinking of each other. Y/N would write songs about him, she'd record it, but she'd never release it. It would remain in her vault of songs dedicated for Harrison. She was updated with everything he was doing and Harrison was updated about her too. The fans were hurt that their power couple wasn't together anymore. But from time to time, they'd fit the other on the other's post.

Like when Y/N posted a picture of her reflection on the glass window. It was just a simple picture and the caption was: baby, not a day goes by that i'm not into you.

The fans freaked out and saw. They knew it was for Harrison. They shamelessly mentioned him in their comments and Harrison saw it. He would've seen it anyway without all the mentions. He asked himself why she'd put a lyric from their theme song as a caption. He wanted to ask her the same thing, but he knew that Y/N would answer, "why not?"

Harrison didn't know why she did that. Y/N didn't know either. Maybe, subconsciously, she knew that Harrison would see her post and maybe her subconscious was sending a message to Harrison that she was still in love with him and that she still thought of him as the love of her life and that she thought of him in general. If that were the case, Harrison felt it too. Because he, too, posted a picture with the caption: some things just, some things just makes sense and one of those is you and I.

The fans noticed and they practically begged for them to get back together. Y/N saw the picture and she finally did something she's never done in two years: she liked the picture. Again, the fans saw and they freaked out. In return, Harrison liked her picture too.

Rumors started circulating as fans speculated that they're getting back together soon. They prayed and hoped that they would.

Harrison's mother knew that everything will turn out in the end. She said that when he was twenty; when he broke down, because he was miles away from Y/N. She also said that when he called her to tell her that he and Y/N called it quits. She said it again when the rumors started. She was a wise woman. In fact, all mothers are wise women.

Y/N and Harrison thought differently about the break up. Y/N thought that maybe they actually weren't meant to be; they weren't soulmates. Harrison thought that they were meant for each other, no matter what. He thought of that thanks to his mother.

Y/N was utterly confused.

Does love always play like that? After being with someone for years, it suddenly wasn't meant? What the fuck was that? All those years were wasted. After being together with someone for a long time, it suddenly didn't work out? That's bullshit, but it happens. It unfortunately and sadly happens. Sometimes, we were just destined to meet someone. Just because we were destined to meet someone, doesn't mean that we were meant to be with that person. Someday, we'll all know an answer as to why that happens. But for now, we'll just have to accept that, that's life and that's love.

Y/N decided it would be nice to do an Instagram live stream at home, because she had a day off. She thought it would be nice to just have a chill day and maybe do some karaoke. Her tv had a YouTube feature anyway; she could search up some instrumentals of songs she wanted to sing.

An hour into her live stream, Harrison decided to watch. He didn't want people to cause a stir if he used his account, so he asked Tom if they could watch on his phone instead. Tom agreed with no hesitation. The fans saw that Tom was watching and pointed out that if Tom was there, Harrison was there somewhere. Y/N didn't notice it, because she just kept singing and randomly dancing.

It was entertaining.

After singing and dancing to "We're All In This Together", she decided to take a breather and talk to some fans. She saw that Tom left a comment here and there and she smiled and said, "Hi Tom! I hope I see you soon."

Tom smiled and commented, "See you soon!"

The fans went wild.

"Soon?? Are haz and y/n back together??"

"is she dating tom? sksks"

"lol no she isn't dating tom wtf tom wouldn't do that to harrison"

"lowkey kinda ship"

"haz and y/n are endgame PERIODT"

She chose to ignore the comments, because she didn't want to stir something up especially when they were all not true.

"This next song is called 'Someday We'll Know' and it's one of my favorite songs at the moment." She smiled and she played the song.

Ninety miles outside Chicago

Can't stop driving, I don't know why

So many questions, I need an answer

Two years later you're still on my mind

Upon hearing that line, Tom nudged Harrison and smiled at him. It was Tom's subtle way of telling him that Y/N dedicated that song for him. Tom knew that and he felt that. In some way, he felt that Y/N knew that Harrison was watching with him.

And Tom was right.

Y/N knew that Harrison was watching that's why she chose that song. If she were to sing 'Still Into You', it would be obvious. So, she did a smart move and picked the song she thought was perfect for them at the moment. Y/N didn't give Harrison closure. After all, she was the reason for the break up as much as she hated to admit it. This was Y/N's way of expressing her hurt and pain and heartbreak and sadness. Y/N thought that if she and Harrison were really meant for each other, he would feel how sorry she was.

And he did feel it. He just didn't know how to express it. He was still hurt, though. He was scared too. He was scared to be with her again. He was scared to love her too much again. He feared that if he loved her too much again, history would repeat itself and they'd let go of each other once more. Harrison was too fragile go to through that again.

Letting go. Two words that are easy to say, but hard to do. Part of letting go is moving on. The first step is to let go, because we can't move on if we're still holding on to the past. The past will always be our past as much as we hate it. But if we learn to let go of all of our past woes, we would be able to move on and live free from the past that used to cage us.

Letting go is a part of love. You see, love is a journey. It's like a life within a life. Notice how our love lives are different from our normal lives. When we're with the person we love, everything feels like a scene from a movie. But when we aren't with them, everything's so mundane.

Y/N loved Harrison enough to let him go. That was part of the journey. After all, we all have to let go at some point, right?

But Y/N was responsible for hurting Harrison. How come she had to let him go and not the other way around? Just because Harrison got hurt, doesn't mean that he's the one who should let go. Y/N had a reason: she let go of him, because she didn't want to hurt him anymore. She set him free and sometimes that's how you can show your love for someone.

Neither of them wanted it to happen, but they knew one of them had to do something. Y/N settled on letting him go instead, because he would be free from hurt.

"I'll ask Tom to get my stuff. You should stay here."

"But we bought it together after I graduated." Y/N frowned.

"Yeah, but your studio is here and if you moved out, it'll be hard to move those too. I'll stay with Tom, it's alright." Harrison gave her a small smile before leaving.

Even when they said goodbye, Harrison still cared. He never really stopped.

Caring is another form of love. When someone once had meaning in your life, you still end up caring for them. It's just the way it is. However, that only happens when you truly loved them, though. It only happens when it only ended on good terms.

"Mate, you still care about her, don't you?" Tom asked one night. Harrison glanced at him before looking back at his hands, "I never said I stopped caring. I still do."

"So, you still love her?" Tom added.

"I never stopped loving her either." Harrison replied.

"I don't get it." Tom said. "I know both of you still love and care for each other. So why aren't you together?"

"Love is complicated, Tom. I want to get back together, but I'm not sure if I should; I'm not sure if she wants to. I want to get back together, but I'm scared to get hurt again. Is that okay for me to feel that way?" Harrison looked at his best friend in worry.

Tom gave him a small smile and nodded, "That's totally valid."

Love is scary. Love is scary, because we don't know what will happen if we fall in love. Falling in love is a leap of faith. If you trust the person you love to catch you, falling for that person would be easy. If you don't, immediately let go and work on yourself first. Don't have second thoughts asking yourself if loving this person is right, because love shouldn't have second thoughts. Love should be built with trust.

Jasmine trusted Aladdin from the first time they met when they were running away from the palace guards. Before they went on a carpet ride Aladdin, or Prince Ali, asked her if she trusted him. She hesitantly said yes. She could've said no, but she didn't. But maybe she said yes, because Prince Ali was familiar to her. Sure, she was hesitant, but she still said yes. She had a feeling that Aladdin and Prince Ali were one and the same and she was right. That's why it worked out in the end. Jasmine and Aladdin were each other's soulmate.

What comes in your mind when you hear or see the word 'soulmate'?

People are divided into two when it comes to soulmates. People who believe in them and people who don't. Like hurt and love, most people have different answers regarding the question on whether they believe in soulmates and if soulmates are real.

Some people don't believe in soulmates. They believe that if a person was compatible with another person, those are because of their goals and personalities.

According to some people who said that soulmates are people who were meant to be with us. Some people also say that soulmates aren't necessarily people who we're romantically involved with, because soulmates can be friends.

From those, we can conclude that soulmates are people who we're meant to be with. Soulmates are people who are perfect for us. If so, how can we know if a person is our soulmate? Well, that's the thing. You'll just know. If you're still confused, you probably haven't found yours. It'll only make sense when you have a soulmate. One cannot simply explain on how to know if a person was written in the stars for you, because you'll know. It's a feeling and it's hard to explain.

Soulmates usually come after the storm. That's based from observation. No one talks about it, though. They only mention the calm before the storm, but they don't mention the storm itself and what comes after it. You see, after the storm, there's the sun. Calm is the love that makes us live in pure bliss and content, the storm is the hurt that unknowingly strikes and the impact of it is the inevitable heartbreak, and the sun is the peace that comes and swoops in to save us from the ruins of heartbreak's impact. That's what a soulmate is. Because after all the mistakes we've made and after everything we've been through, the sun will always be there to shine at the end of it.

One of Y/N's friends threw a party and Y/N took a day off just to go. It was her friend's birthday, after all. She wouldn't miss it for the world. What she didn't know was that Harrison would be there. Harrison didn't know Y/N was coming either. So it came as a surprise to them when they saw each other at the party.

"Fancy seeing you here." Y/N said with a smile.

"Likewise." Harrison smiled back.

"So, um how've you been?" Y/N asked. "It's been two years."

"I'm, I'm good. You?"

"Same here."

Silence fell upon them. It felt like they were thirteen again when they met up at the mall for their first date. Y/N chuckled at the thought and Harrison did the same. They looked at each other and asked at the same time, "Did you think about our first date at the mall?"

Harrison laughed, "Oh god, you did!"

"How could I not? We were so awkward!" Y/N laughed.

Once both of them calmed down, Harrison gave her a smile, "This feels nice. I really missed you."

"I really missed you too." Y/N said lovingly. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened two years ago. I was really busy and-"

"Don't worry about it, Y/N."

"I just want to say so-"

"I said don't worry about it." Harrison pushed.

"Why? I hurt you. I hurt the person I love and I want to apologize for it." Y/N frowned. Harrison held both of her hands and said, "You shouldn't worry about it, because I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago. I forgave you before I left the house."

It now makes sense on why we care about who hurt us. We only care about them if we forgive them. If caring is another form of love, forgiveness is the same thing. An example of this would be Eliza forgiving Alexander Hamilton. But if we love the person who hurt us greatly, sometimes, we still care about them during the in between.

From that moment, Y/N and Harrison knew that they'd be okay. This moment was their sun. Harrison's mother was right once more.

Someday we'll know

Why Samson loved Delilah

One day I'll go

Dancing on the moon

Someday you'll know

That I was the one for you

The song played loudly through the speakers. Harrison and Y/N lightly chuckled. He asked, "Is this our new song?"

"I guess so, but not quite. It's complicated." Y/N replied.

"Then let's not complicate ourselves." Harrison smiled sweetly. "I love you and I haven't stopped. I'd love for us to be together again, if you'll allow it?"

"Haz, of course I want to be with you again." Y/N smiled.

Just like that, they were together again. They trusted each other enough to try again and they loved each other enough to fall back into love.

What is love? Love is a lot of things. Love is complicated. Love is nothing without trust. Love is the calm before the storm. Love is a soothing and cool feeling. Love is about balance; the give and takes. Love has a shit ton of meanings and a shit ton of perceptions. Love is real. Love is fickle. Love is everywhere.

There are no rules in love, because no one wrote such rules. We love who we want to love. We love when we want to love. Love knows no limits or boundaries. Love is different, because we write our own love stories, we create our own love stories, we have our own love stories, and we are our own love stories.  Love is a journey that everyone takes whether we like it or not. We keep loving despite knowing the storm will come, because love is natural.

Love is not rehearsed.

Love is a battlefield; it's war. Love is scary. Love is beautifully terrifying.

Is hurt a good thing? Yes.

Is hurt a bad thing? Yes.

Are pain and hurt one and the same? No. Hurt is a feeling when we're in pain.

Does love always play like that? After being with someone for years, it suddenly wasn't meant? Yes, because no one ever said that love was fair.

Love is a leap of faith.

Love is forgiveness.

The calm can happen for years. The storm can come multiple times. But the sun; the sun can only come once. We may never know what stage we're in right now. We can be at the state of calmness or we could be in the middle of a storm, but one day all the skies, our woes, will clear up and the sun will come to save us.

"There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

* * * *

Sorry if it’s shit lmao

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @peachmaybnx @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @marshxx​ @hjoficrecs

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐳 𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟

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[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 6: Next

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~5500

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: Eighteen hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Sorry again for the delay on this one! I know PB has basically turned the laws of Cordonia into whatever they need them to be for plot reasons, but that’s not sufficient for me, so I am trying to construct some sort of framework based on what we know from TRM, ROE, and TRR/TRH. We’ll see how it goes...

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“Riley… Hey, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes fluttered open as she felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Drake whispering her name, tugging her awake. It took her a few seconds to place herself as she glanced around the room. She reached for the nightstand with a fumbling hand before she remembered she didn’t have her glasses. She squinted at Drake. Thankfully, he’d crouched down in front of her, so he was at least in focus, even if the rest of the hotel room was a giant blur. 

“Is everything okay?”

Drake nodded, running a hand over his chin. He was already showered, shaved, and dressed in a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans. “I am going to go to the bakery across the street and see if any of the locals can point me towards a cheap, used car dealership.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be much help.” She’d always meant to learn Greek since moving to Cordonia, but she’d only ever gotten around to learning a handful of words. After all, official court business was always conducted in English, and most of the citizens of Valtoria were bilingual, so there had never really been a need. Until now apparently. It’s not that no one in Ioannina spoke English, but it wasn’t as common as she was used to. Even last night, she’d been utterly dependent on Drake to discuss what they needed in a hotel room with the man at the front desk.

“Yeah, that’s why I thought you might want to just stay here with Bridget.” At his statement, they both instinctively looked down at their daughter, still sleeping soundly along Riley’s side. Riley knew it wasn’t ideal that they decided to let her sleep in the same bed with them last night, but they didn’t really have any other options when the hotel employee told Drake there were no cribs available. And truth be told, Riley hadn’t wanted to let Bridget leave her side. Things were still too raw, too fresh.

“You don’t want me to come along?” 

Drake shook his head slowly as he gently placed a hand on Bridget’s head. “I just figured it might be nice for her to be able to crawl and play and all that. Try and make things a little more normal for her, I guess.”

He did have a point. Normally, Bridget was able to crawl around and explore while they were taking meetings at Valtoria. Even on days where they had to go to the palace, one of them usually stuck with Bridget in her room there while the other handled all the official business. And Bridget was definitely at an age where she wanted to move about her environment. She didn’t like being restrained for too long.

“Okay. So you’re just going to get us a car then?”

He paused for a moment. “I think we need more than a car, Riley. I’m gonna try and find somewhere that sells outdoor supplies and camping gear. Plus a travel crib and a car seat for her. Maybe some toys, too.”

“You think we’re going to have to camp out to stay safe?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I would rather have a tent and some sleeping bags and not need them than have to panic and hide out with nothing.”

She swallowed roughly before she responded, staring down at their daughter, still passed out and oblivious to everything that had transpired in the past day. “How bad do you think things are going to get for us, Drake?”

He didn’t answer her right away, so after a few seconds she looked up and found him staring at her intently. “I have no idea. This will probably all just be a wild story if Liam keeps his title, but if Barthelemy succeeds… fuck, Riley. Every law enforcement agent in the EU will have the right to arrest us for kidnapping and send us back.”

“This is insanity. She’s our kid. Why would other countries recognize us traveling with her as a kidnapping?”

There was another pause as Drake glanced down, staring at the floor. “Because she’s Cordonia’s kid before she’s our kid. And kidnapping is one of the crimes that doesn’t require criminality verification in the arresting country under a European Arrest Warrant.” She just stared at him, wondering why this was yet another piece of random trivia he knew. As if he could read her thoughts, he glanced up and continued, “I did some research when I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“So another country would really just send us back for taking her out of Cordonia?”

“She’s legally Cordonia’s child.”

Riley sighed, trying to keep tears of frustration from forming. She’d cried enough yesterday, she didn’t need Drake thinking she wasn’t up to this again. But it just was a shitty situation. One they never should have been in at all.

“It’s not right, Drake.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s a little late to change that fact now.”

A wave of guilt washed over Riley as his words hung in the air. She could have put a stop to this bullshit long ago. She should have put a stop to it. And now everything was teetering on the edge of disaster. But she had to get a grip. She was not going to be an emotional mess today. So she took one last deep breath before responding to Drake.

“I think your plan makes sense. Can you stay with her while I get cleaned up before you go?”

Drake frowned just slightly, clearly wondering about the slight redirection of their conversation, but he nodded slowly, scooping up Bridget laying her across his chest as he settled down on top of the covers while Riley dug through the bag of clothing, trying to find something to wear.

As she showered, the lukewarm-at-best water pelting over her hair and skin, she tried to keep her thoughts from spiraling. Things were bad, but they could have been worse. They were together. They were able to withdraw money yesterday, so their accounts weren’t frozen yet. And they had some of their basic needs covered, thanks to Ray.

Ray had bought them several changes of clothing, some basic toiletries, more diapers and formula, and a few days of food before returning to Cordonia. He hadn’t let them pay for any of it, which was far too kind considering they’d lied to him and possibly made him an accessory to kidnapping. But he’d remained helpful and unfazed when they’d confessed that Lythikos was supposed to be their destination, not Greece. And he’d gotten them fairly well set up before he got back in the town car to return to Cordonia, a much appreciated kindness.

She wondered how things had gone when he spoke to Olivia, how pissed off she was about it all. Olivia hadn’t called them since they told her they were committed to staying away from Cordonia, so Riley had no idea how she was handling everything or how the hearing went. Hana had called again last night. She was alone at their home, trying to pack up a few of their personal belongings in hopes of getting them to them at some point if needed. She’d been kind and gentle, asking if there were certain items of clothing or specific toys that should be a priority. Riley didn’t know how Hana intended to get those belongings to them, but it was a sweet gesture. Even though she knew Hana wished they’d stayed in Cordonia, she felt grateful that her friend was trying to help them, even if she disagreed with Riley’s actions.

So there were some silver linings. But overall, things felt overwhelming and out of control. Riley had known somewhere in her mind that things were going to be horrible and stressful and mad difficult when she’d decided to get Bridget out of Cordonia as quickly as possible yesterday. But after a little sleep - admittedly very little given how upset she was about everything - things felt like they could quickly become insurmountable. 

But she just couldn’t bring herself to head back for Cordonia. No matter how many worries she had about how the three of them were going to get through things going forward, there was a better chance of them being together through it all outside that country, and she just felt safer, knowing there would at least be more difficulties for Barthelemy and any of his posse to get their hands on her daughter. Nothing about Cordonia was safe. And while she wished she’d been able to recognize that earlier, she couldn’t go back now. Not when it finally felt like her eyes were open. 

Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dressed and ran a comb through her hair, brushing her teeth and popping in her contacts before leaving the bathroom. She heard Bridget’s giggles and babbles right away. Turning into the main part of the small hotel room, she saw Drake sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing Bridget on his knees as he held her in a standing position. She loved being stood upright like that, and it seemed like she’d be pulling up to stand on her own any day now.

When Drake saw Riley, he scooped Bridget into his arms and scooted off the bed. “She only woke up about 10 minutes ago. I can feed her before I head out if you want.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Riley said with a little shake of her head, taking Bridget as she got out a bottle, the formula, and a bottle of water. She was a bit surprised to see Drake digging through the diaper bag, pulling out all the money they’d managed to withdraw from their accounts yesterday. They’d both hemmed and hawed about pulling funds from the accounts tied to Valtoria, but eventually decided on doing it. After all, compared to kidnapping and treason, embezzlement charges were really just a drop in the ocean.

“You’re taking all the cash?”

“We haven’t heard from Olivia or Hana since last evening. Either things are still in progress, or they can’t safely get in touch with us. If it’s the latter, our accounts might be frozen now. I need to be prepared.”

Riley didn’t like the thought of being left without any money, even if she knew Drake was right. It left her feeling vulnerable, or rather even more vulnerable. She couldn’t help it, and a small, shaky little sigh escaped.

Drake pivoted to look at her, his eyes intense. “I’m trusting you not to take off with my kid while I’m gone. It seems like the least you could do is trust me not to take off with the money.”

There was just a hint of bitterness in his voice, but mostly he just sounded tired. Riley knew she was being callous with him. It was just hard to not let all her fears and worries spill over into everything she did and said at this point.

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” she said as she shook up the bottle of formula.

Drake let out a sigh, tucked the money in his wallet, and dropped a kiss on both her and Bridget’s foreheads. “Hopefully, I’ll be back in a few hours. Call if you need me, okay?”

She nodded and gave him a small little smile, but then he was off, hopefully to pull more cash and to get them some transportation. It was just her and Bridget, and even though that was her initial plan yesterday, it felt very lonely at the moment.

“Oh, Peanut. Mama has turned Daddy into a fugitive,” she cooed, giving Bridget the bottle. Figuring she should probably put this time to good use, she grabbed her phone quickly while Bridget actually had a good grasp on the bottle and sat down on the end of the bed, pulling up “How to run from law enforcement” as a search. At this point, they were going to be able to trace their ATM withdrawals anyway. If they somehow got ahold of her digital records from this phone, well, this search wouldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. Better to be at least a little prepared when Drake got back and they had to plan their next steps.

After reading for a few minutes, Riley swiped open her contacts list and tapped Drake’s name at the top of her favorites list. He answered almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, we’re fine. I just have something else you should buy.”

“What?”

“Burner phones.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost like deja vu, sitting in the same seat in the same courtroom as once again everyone rose to their feet except Barthelemy and himself. This time, Liam knew that staying seated would probably not be an option when the justice left the courtroom. He probably should have risen now, to be honest. The no-confidence vote that happened this morning was almost certainly going to stand. But Liam wasn’t ready to look defeated. He would wait until this hearing concluded before deferring and recognizing that anyone else might hold the power of the crown. 

The parties present today were almost identical to last night, with the addition of Hakim and Kiara on Barthelemy’s side and Hana on his. Normally, a different High Court justice would have been assigned since High Justice Questa had literally just ruled on an emergency hearing, but given that the same parties were named, she had volunteered to see this through. The usher waited until she sat down before once again announcing that all parties had been sworn in. As soon as he was finished, the justice looked from desk to desk, annoyance clearly written all over her face. It wasn’t surprising, but it didn’t bode well for either legal team. 

“Not even 24 hours later, gentlemen? You really are determined to not let me have my weekend, aren’t you?” High Justice Questa said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Did we manage to actually legally call the Conventus Nobilis today? It looks like it was all in order based on this documentation from both parties,” she said as she flipped through stacks of paper, “a no-confidence vote that passed with a margin of three to two and installed the patriarch of House Beaumont as king-regent, so I’m not sure what your case is, Mr. Rys.”

Liam fought to keep his face steady. He’d been expecting it, mentally preparing for it, but hearing his surname used instead of his title, a surname that he almost never had needed in his life still burned inside him, a deep pain and sense of failure, both on a personal and public level.

“Your Honor, my client is not challenging the loss of his power. He is now acting as a concerned citizen who believes that the transfer of power to the defendant was illegally performed,” Diana stated calmly as she rose and leaned in to the microphone.

“A concerned citizen? Right, I’m sure that’s his only motivation. Regardless, the brief you submitted is compelling. There obviously isn’t a large amount of precedent for me to base my decision on, so I am going to carefully listen to oral arguments to supplement and clarify the briefs both parties submitted. Additionally, depending on the intricacies of how different historical and modern laws intersect with this… unusual combination of circumstances, I may just offer a provisional ruling with a formal hearing scheduled in front of the full High Court as soon as possible if I feel this is too complex and unprecedented to be decided by just myself. Do both parties understand?”

Both Diana and Charles acknowledged her statement, then Diana delved into her arguments.

“Your Honor, if a reigning monarch is removed from the throne, the law clearly states that next in line for the throne should assume a role of king- or queen-regent until a Conclave can be held, at which time the major noble houses will determine the new royal line. Additionally, Cordonian law states that any direct heirs to the throne who have not come of age should have at least two regents recorded in case of their ascension to the throne before they reach adulthood. Given that these two laws are clear, I do not believe that the results of the Conventus Nobilis vote can legally do any more than remove my client from power. The major houses do not have the power to name anyone they’d like as regent.

“Bridget Walker is the clear queen-regent at this point, Your Honor, and the documentation submitted with her anointing named the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria as her regents. Therefore, it is our contention that one of them should serve as regent until a Conclave can legally occur. It seems like the most logical conclusion from the laws on file.”

“The issue, Diana, is that both the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria were named in the no-confidence vote as well. At least, that’s what I assume you are going to tell me, Charles,” High Justice Questa said as she turned slightly in her chair to face the defense desk.

“Indeed, Your Honor. The results of that vote clearly indicate that the majority of the major noble houses fear for our country’s well-being and prosperity if either of the Walkers are allowed to serve this country as regent. My client has graciously offered to step into that role, seeing as the Duchess of Valtoria was sponsored by House Beaumont and is therefore an honorary member.”

“Your issue, Charles, is that your client can’t legally do that,” High Justice Questa added, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows. The fact that she was tearing through Barthelemy’s team’s arguments just as quickly as she had their own was a small reassurance. 

“He may have offered his services, but the majority of the noble houses support his regency as well.”

“Yes, but they don’t have that power either. They only get to name a new monarch, acting or otherwise, during a Conclave. And the vote today was not a Conclave, was it Charles?”

“No, Your Honor. A Conclave has to occur at the end of a Social Season.”

“Exactly. The regents for an heir who is too young to rule are decided by the reigning monarch at the time of the heir’s anointment, not by anyone else. In this case, since our new Queen-Regent was not born into the royal bloodline, but established in her position via Royal Decree, it is a noted precedent to allow the child’s parents to have a say in who is named as his or her regents. Why your client has decided he can just sidestep all of that is concerning. He’s claimed the power of the law for himself while being ignorant of our country’s laws at best, or with a willful disregard for them at worst. And quite frankly, the fact that the actual head of House Beaumont, his elder son, voted against him is not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“Your Honor, someone needs to act as Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent!”

“Indeed, but not your client. The High Court does not recognize Lord Beaumont as acting regent at this time. Now, Diana,” High Justice Questa continued, not missing a beat, “your client was the reigning monarch at the time of Queen-Regent Bridget’s anointing. I see in your briefs that he has offered up two alternative regents for Queen-Regent Bridget - Lady Hana Lee or Lord Maxwell Beaumont.”

This had been part of their strategy, devised wearily sometime after 2 am and numerous cups of coffee. Since it was unlikely that the no-confidence vote was going to go their way, Diana had suggested naming alternate regents for Bridget, ones that would both be more sympathetic to his cause and that would be believable as alternate choices from Drake and Riley. Picking Hana and Maxwell had been the obvious choice.

“Your Honor!” Charles called out upon hearing those names, but he immediately quieted and sat back down when High Justice Questa raised her hand. She nodded at Diana, indicating she should continue in spite of the outburst from the opposing legal team.

“Yes, Your Honor. They are Queen-Regent Bridget’s godparents, indicating that the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria would have approved of either of them for this role, and my client is in total agreement.”

The justice didn’t respond immediately, but started flipping through a briefing, skimming a section when she arrived at the part she clearly wanted to discuss. Liam knew this was going to be their largest issue. They’d attempted to word the briefing carefully, not making it immediately apparent that Drake and Riley hadn’t actually been involved with the decision to name Hana and Maxwell up as alternative regents. But Questa was quick, and she had a great mind for details. The fact that this was the point in the hearing that she was explicitly referencing the text did not bode well for them.

“Diana, I’m looking at your wording here, where you mention your client’s reasoning for naming those two as possibilities for this role. Neither in your statement just now nor in this document do you ever quote the Walkers to indicate their approval. Is there a reason for this?”

Diana tried to be subtle, but Liam noticed her taking a deep breath before she responded, “Your Honor, we didn’t have a chance to speak to them directly. However, their-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You didn’t have a chance to talk to them? Really?” Whatever scorn Questa held for Barthelemy, Liam felt it directed his way now, but at least doubled or tripled. She’d seen right through their little bluff.

“Everything has been so rushed, Your Honor,” Diana tried to justify, but Liam knew there was no salvaging this situation at this point.

“It seems like talking to the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria should have been high on your priority list to me. Common sense would indicate that if your argument was that those two individuals, in addition to your client, are responsible for naming a regent, actually getting them to name a regent would be pretty important to your case. So tell me, why haven’t you spoken to them regarding this matter? In fact, why aren’t they here in person? Last night I figured they had already put their daughter to sleep and were reluctant to leave her, but it’s-” she glanced quickly at her watch “-not even 5 pm. This seems like an important hearing for their family.”

“I haven’t been able to get in touch with them, Your Honor.”

High Justice Questa’s shoulders sagged slightly before she asked the question Liam was dreading. “Does your client even know their location at this time?”

Diana leaned over to him and whispered, “How do you want to play this, sir?”

He’d pulled Diana aside last night and informed her that Drake, Riley, and Bridget had likely fled the country, and that he had been choosing to stay ignorant of any information that would confirm that fact. She’d encouraged him to report his suspicions officially right then, insisting that he was her client, not them, but Liam didn’t feel throwing them to the wolves was the correct call.  He was frustrated and personally hurt, but he knew there was no malice behind their actions. Besides, it wasn’t likely to improve his situation. So, he’d insisted on sticking to his technical ignorance then, and he had no intention of deviating from that plan now.

“As we discussed, Diana”

With a little nod, she returned to her microphone. “He believes that they headed to Lythikos at the invitation of Duchess Nevrakis for some privacy, but he hasn’t spoken to them since they were on the road.”

Questa’s reaction was immediate, her eyes closing and a hand rubbing roughly over them. She looked completely done with the actions of everyone in the room. Liam honestly couldn’t blame her. He was well aware that from an outside perspective, both he and Barthelemy looked like bumbling fools at the moment. On the other side of the courtroom, Liam noticed significant whispering and chatter. Clearly, Barthelemy’s camp was speculating on what that statement meant. 

��Well, you all have decided to make this as messy as possible, haven’t you?” High Justice Questa mused to the room, interrupting all the side conversations. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do. I’m calling a recess until tomorrow at 9 am to allow the prosecution time to produce the Walkers. No statements, no hearsay, no speculation, they will be here in my court. If they are not present, sanctions will be issued, and the standing of their house and titles will be subject to review.

“As for the matter of Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent, that will be decided with or without their input at that time. If they are not produced, Mr. Rys will make the determination on his own. However, I would urge Mr. Rys to reconsider his choices for that role, because based on the reaction to the names you provided from the defense desk, I envision yet another summoning of the Conventus Nobilis if either of them get installed as regent. And if you think I’m impatient now, you do not want to see me if I am forced to preside over another emergency hearing.”

She paused for a moment, giving both desks intense, meaningful stares before continuing to issue her decision. 

“Now, as we are currently left with no clear agent to act as monarch, I will defer to several old Cordonian statutes. First, a king or queen who is too young to rule will be overseen by a regent who is the next in line for the throne over the age of majority, unless otherwise specified. Given that the Walkers are not eligible anymore due to the vote of no confidence, we will proceed through succession. Seeing as Mr. Rys is the last in his family line and our new queen-regent obviously has no heirs, based on the foundational statutes, Cordonia would revert to Nevrakis rule. Good news is the head of House Nevrakis is here and now knows she’s Queen-Regent for the next handful of hours. This is a provisional appointment only, as it is customary to allow a few days to establish a regency, and a new regent is set to be named tomorrow, so the powers of the monarch will only be enacted in emergency situations. Is that clear?” she asked, staring past Liam to where Oliva was seated.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Liam heard Olivia say from behind him, loud and clear even without a microphone. Olivia gaining power was an obvious victory today, but only a temporary one. If they attempted to leave her in power, Barthelmey would undoubtedly call for another vote from the Conventus Nobilis.

Upon hearing her response, Questa turned slightly towards the defense desk. Barthelemy was clearly fuming, but she continued speaking before that legal team could get a word out. “And before you get all outraged, Charles, I would encourage you to use this as motivation to urge your client to strongly consider letting the regent presented tomorrow stand instead of challenging yet another leader. Because the longer it takes for these two parties to reach an agreement, the longer she-” High Justice Questa said as she gestured to Olivia “-retains provisional powers of the monarch, something I’m guessing your client does not desire. Is everyone clear of my expectations?”

Murmurs of assent came from both desks, following which Questa gave a curt nod and tapped her gavel, bringing the hearing to a close for the day. Liam rose to watch her leave. He had now officially lost the right to stay seated. Oddly, he felt almost numb about that fact. There were so many other things happening that required his attention. 

He was expected to bring Drake and Riley to court tomorrow, and he was fairly certain that would not be a task that was possible for him to complete. This meant he needed to find another possible regent, one that Barthelemy and his allies would not attempt to remove from the throne but who would also be unlikely to bend to Barthelemy’s whims and schemes. Realistically, he needed to figure out Barthelemy’s endgame here. It would help him better plan for his next steps, including a bid to retake the throne at the Conclave, and if he was lucky, in the short term, it might even help him determine someone to suggest as regent who would be willing to show leniency to Drake and Riley. Allow him the chance to convince them to return to Cordonia, although the fact that Bridget was now the queen-regent did complicate matters more.

He saw Barthelemy approaching him, but Diana stopped him. “I’m sorry, but since this hearing is still pending, I’ve advised my client to not speak to you directly at this time.”

He let out a little huff, but went to rejoin his lawyers, allowing Liam to turn to Olivia, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand, all huddled in a little cluster behind him. 

“How are you, Liam?” Hana asked, patting his shoulder gently with her hand, her eyes full of concern and worry.

“It is all a lot to process at the moment, but today could have gone worse, I suppose,” Liam responded, trying to keep his voice calm. Any emotional response on his part needed to wait until they were someplace private. “I guess we need to find a place to reconvene now that the palace is no longer an option.”

Olivia frowned, “Who says it’s not an option? If I’m the provisional regent, I think we can easily return for tonight.”

“Are the optics of that wise? I wouldn’t want it to look like you were abusing the temporary powers Questa granted you.”

She just shrugged. “I honestly don’t care. They can’t touch me in any way that matters, and it’s not like I’ll be making a bid during the Conclave since I’ll be sponsoring you.”

Her nonchalant statement gave Liam pause. Although the Rys lineage could be traced back for hundreds of years, House Rys wasn’t one of the five major houses and therefore could not put up a candidate. He hoped she was comfortable with that offer and didn’t resent him for taking away her chance to be queen. The tone of her voice was just so matter-of-fact and resigned, and it made Liam wonder. But for now, he needed to focus on the short term, not the long term.

“I suppose it might be nice to clean out my office,” he said, soft enough that he was sure no one but the people right next to him could hear. The last thing he needed was Barthelemy to somehow get his hands on all sorts of official documents and start combing through them.

Olivia gave him a crisp nod of agreement before spinning to face Maxwell and Bertrand. “Alright you two - Ramsford first. Bertrand, repeat after me, ‘Documents detailing my father’s incompetence are more important than heirloom cutlery.’”

“Lady Olivia, I hardly-”

“It’s now ‘Your Regency, Bertrand,” she said, throwing in a little wink and chuckle as Bertrand started to sputter out apologies. “Seriously though. Maxwell, you need to keep him focused. Preventing your father from gaining control of House Beaumont is imperative.

“After you’re done at Ramsford, head to Lythikos. Now, Maxwell, repeat after me. ‘Literally anything I want to touch will probably maim or kill me, so I will touch nothing but my pillow.’ Bertrand, I’m counting on you from stopping him from causing serious bodily harm to himself or others.”

After the brothers expressed their agreement and left the courtroom, Liam noticed Olivia and Hana shooting glances towards each other. There was no one left in the room but Diana and the junior attorney with her today, Nicolas, so whatever they were silently communicating must be something that they wanted to keep from the legal team.

“Diana, Nicolas, we are meeting back at the palace. We can probably use the monarch’s office for tonight. But starting tomorrow, we will likely be relocating-” he glanced at Olivia, who nodded deeply “-to Lythikos. If you two wouldn’t mind heading back to the palace and determining who on the team is still willing to serve as my legal counsel now that I am no longer king, that would be a helpful next step. Say we meet up again in one hour?”

The lawyers agreed to the plan, leaving Liam alone with Olivia and Hana. “Alright, what couldn’t you bring up until they left?”

Hana passed him a sheet of paper. On it were two phone numbers, written in perfect cursive.

“What’s this?”

“Since you no longer are king, we thought maybe you would not want to be left in the dark anymore.”

It only took him a second to realize what Hana was saying and what the phone numbers implied.

“They got burner phones?”

Olivia let out a little sigh. “Yup. And if you want to talk to them, our next step should be getting you one, too.”

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[soft-sunflower]

Flower of Evil Thoughts- Episode 12: Part 1

Okay, just when I think these episodes can't get any better than the last, I get CONTINUOUSLY proven wrong! How is this show SO amazing!? Okay, let's start with the recap and my thoughts.

WOW this episode really started off with a bang, didn't it?? I was floored how crazy unmother found out the real Heeseong, her real son, was a serial killer. I was legit creeped out by the fact that he kept commemorative photos of his kidnappings and killings, but what really fucked me up was the fact that he kept their fingernails. So NOW we know where the other sets of fingernails went... I guess Do Minseok kept the ones on the right hands and Heeseong kept the ones on the left hand. Just ughhh ewwww. This is seriously so disgusting. That really grossed me out. So, was unmother going to commit suicide? She held a blade to her wrist and then she looks out the window, and what does she see?? Heeseong... trying to bury a body in the rain. I mean what even??? This whole family has upped the evil factor. If there's any flower of evil blossoming? It's the Baek family.

And who's body is it!? None other than Do Hyunsoo! The man he just hit with his car! I mean REALLY!? He was going to legit BURY Hyunsoo alive??? This guy is the psychopath, this guy is the batshit crazy one, this guy is the serial killer. NOT Hyunsoo. It's kinda funny, I was talking to my husband and I said. "Well, the synopsis sorta got it right. Heeseong is definitely a serial killer, only it's the REAL Heeseong and not the fake Heeseong, which is Hyunsoo." We both were like "Yep. Heeseong IS a serial killer and did it right along with Do Minseok." Funny, that.

He’s so casual like “Oh don’t mind me. Just gonna bury this man I hit with my car alive. Go back inside.” So, ole Mommie Dearest over here goes all feral on her serial killer son and straight up stabs his ass declaring she’s scared of him. You know what, lady? I am too. He’s kinda terrifying. I swear if you gave that boy an axe and told him to go chop wood, he'd turn it around and do a Lizzie Borden on your ass. This family as a whole is a complete whack job.

Oooookay so we're back in the present now, and what do we have here??? Heeseong. Sitting up in his chair and guess what he's doing. SPEAKING. NORMALLY. None of that "I just got out of a coma and I'm slow" speech he'd been doing since last week. Yeeeeah I knew his bullshit he was pulling was a whole-ass act. Okay, so last week, when I saw the preview at the end of Ep 11 and they were all screaming about finding a buried body? I had a theory that it was going to be the maid's body they find, considering the way the crazy mother was freaking at out her wanting to know what all she knew. Now you have Heeseong being threatening with this lady. I'm getting death flags everywhere for her.

Oh look... creepy hospital trash dad is deep the blood cleaning Heeseong's car, phone rings and there we got trafficker man, Yeom Sangchul. Soooo, Heeseong owed him money and dad paid him off to cover his son's ass??? DUDE. What is WRONG with this family!? What is WRONG with these people!? They're legit messed tf up! And can they STOP trying to "take care of" Hyunsoo already?? The constant putting out a hit on him is getting frustrating. "Either Hyunsoo lives or we do." UM. You both are TWISTED old FUCKS who don't deserve life after all the crap you've pulled. Hyunsoo deserves life. He's more human than all of you. You don't, if that's how it's going to be. I'd love to watch them rot in prison.

YAY!!! There's our couple!!! Coming out of Hyunsoo's shop looking like a legit BADASS power couple!!! YASSSSSSSSS!!! And... what's this??? What?? Detective Choi wants a cup of coffee??? Weird... it almost seemed as if Jiwon WAS expecting some kind of Swat team out there to arrest her husband. Jiwon looks confused on what's happening, Hyunsoo is just quietly accepting it all. And when they go inside and Sunbae almost appears, reluctant and hesitant. He even thanks Hyunsoo for being the informant, which I did NOT expect. I knew there was a reason why I liked him from the start. He's redeeming himself.

Haesoo is really stunned over the fact that Jiwon knows the truth about Hyunsoo and who he is. And of course she's in a panic because she believes her brother left and so now would be the perfect time to turn herself in. Moojin tries his hardest to stop her, because obviousy he doesn't want to see her go to jail, but he's gotta stop being so pushy...

Sunbae has a great personality, but when he starts questioning Hyunsoo over the murder he doesn't waver. Hyunsoo straight up tells him he had no motive for murdering the village head, unlike Jiwon who's crying out that he didn't do it. That's right. Because he DID NOT. The look that the husband and wife give each other, Jiwon just looks stricken by the fact that after what they went through last night, Hyunsoo still won't tell the truth. That he was not the one who murdered the village head. Hyunsoo just looks at his wife calmly. His expression is unreadable. He may have just been silently pleading with her to please respect his wishes. This is what he wants. He doesn't want this for his sister.

Oh, Noona... not only was Hyunsoo's past so incredibly traumatic for him, but it was for you too. You've been deeply affected by this because of your overwhelming love for your brother and it's precious. It really is. It's heartbreaking watching him get thrown into repeated exorcisms at such a young age for something that was never even wrong with him. ALL of the adults in his life FAILED HIM. His father, the therapist, the villagers, and even his only friend along with his pack of cronies. They BRAINWASHED him into believing he was a bad person just like his father was, and it's HEARTBREAKING. It's so utterly HEARTBREAKING. I LOVE how strong-willed Noona delcaring she doesn't feel sorry for killing the old bastard who put this poor child through all of this.

They threw things at him, beat him, hurt him... And when they cut to Hyunsoo after being beaten, he just looks dead inside... it's so devastating knowing that they forced him into believing he was being possessed by his father's ghost, to the point that he saw his father's ghost. Now, maybe he really DID see his ghost,  but the fact that he was so brainwashed into believing these things? My heart literally ACHES for Hyunsoo... Noona is right. Moojin is NO better. He turned his back on Hyunsoo when he needed him most. Tied him a tree, beat the crap out of him, stoned him. And every single person in that town FAILED Hyunsoo. Hyunsoo was the only real HUMAN out of all of them. And that is SO DEVASTATINGLY HEARTBREAKING. Because he was so unjustly and unfairly FAILED by people he needed most, EXCEPT for Noona.

Okay, Sunbae knows something is going on. He knows that Hyunsoo claiming he killed the old man and how easily the weapon was found was just TOO convenient. He knows. NOW, I'm DYING to know who this one another witness was that said Hyunsoo wasn't a bad person? Was it Noona? Was it someone else? Because every single person in that village ostracized him, that we know of, asides from Haesoo. So what gives??? I want to know who it was... I'm just gonna place a bet that it was Haesoo who had her brother's back because she was the only one who ever did.

Oh.. oh Sunbae... you are 100% and fully fledged redeemed. REDEEMED. Don't imprison an INNOCENT man!!! I think he KNOWS Hyunsoo is innocent, and the look on Hyunsoo's face... he knows the Hyunsoo and Haesoo's childhood tragedy. My heart just twisted. Sunbae. T_T Sorry, but the fact that Sunbae is letting him go, simply by saying he isn't interested in Do Hyunsoo anymore, and that Do Hyunsoo is a good person... I swear I had tears in my eyes because of the hope in theirs!!! I was smiling and had tears in my eyes just like Jiwon because FINALLY!!! He can live his life, he can be with his family, he can love his wife openly and happily, he can raise his daughter with no fear, and... wait, hold up... it's too damn happy. Way too happy. Something bad is going to happen... I can feel it. Yep. Something is coming to literally fuck up their happiness and it's stressful. It really is.

OH GOD this SCENE. This next scene!!! I cried during this scene. I found myself sobbing because of the pure innocence of this scene alone. Our precious baby girl, Eunha!!! She's back!! And she's running and crying in his father's arms... You can already see the emotion on his face as he stoops down for his baby, and he's crying too... It's like years upon years of all these emotions that were built up and hidden behind iron walls are spilling out of him now that the floodgates have burst. Like he just can't help itself, and it's a beautiful thing. It's so good for him, it's cathartic and just what he's needed for so so long. All the years he spent locked behind that wall, believing he was something he wasn't, it's all been set free. He can FEEL. And he show what he's feeling without being told otherwise. He's free to love.

"Daddy! I missed you so so so much!!"

Oh, little sweetie, he did too. He really did. So very much. All the years he's spent watching you grow and raising you, all of those memories and feelings for you, you precious little angel, are welling up inside of him and bursting out of him, on top of the fact that he doesn't have to say goodbye to his baby girl simply due to the fact that he's Do Hyunsoo. That's why he's crying. From the day she was born, to each one of her milestones and young triumphs throughout her life are so important because he sees it all so differently now. When Jiwon't mother says "She acts like they've been separated for years" and Jiwon remains quiet? Because in a sense, they have. Sure, he's seen Eunha almost every single day of her life, but he hasn't really SEEN her til now because he had a heavy, dark veil covering the eyes of his heart.

He's seeing Eunha for the first time and feeling her with his heart, and i find that so overwhelmingly beautiful. Jiwon assures her mother that it's nothing when she worriedly asks what's wrong, that she's never seen him like this before. And Jiwon just tearfully smiles so gently and so softly at her precious family while they cry and embrace because she loves them so much. It's sweet how Jiwon's mother is concerned for them though lol. I wonder if she'll find out...? And how ADORABLE was it when Eunha told her daddy not to cry again because he misses her? She's such a precious little angel and such a good little girl. His kiss on her forehead was the sweetest thing too. What REALLY made me melt in tears was the fact that Hyunsoo says:

"Eunha-ya, daddy loves you a lot."

And Eunha's arm heart... just... GOSH. T____T And even though she tells her daddy not to cry, you can see him tearing up again as he waves bye bye to his little girl off to preschool. It's so beautiful and refreshing to see him finally finding his emotions and finding his feelings and expressing them so honestly. And his little kiss on her forehead. Just end me. I can’t get over how precious the moments these two share truly are. It’s beautiful. ♥

Wooooowwww, so Jiwon was planning on quitting her job as a police officer??? But here we have Sunbae trying to encourage her to seriously think about this decision, because he's right. Giving up a job like that could have a huge affect on her entire life. And to get to work and work like crazy because they're mad busy lol. Ah, Sunbae.

And I just can't get over Hyunsoo and Jiwon's love. I really can't. I love how holds her hand and strokes it gently with his thumb. She asks "What were you thinking about in front of the store earlier?" And BAM! I was right! He was remembering the very first time he ever held Eunha. I'm sure he probably wanted to cry the first time he held her because his heart was likely overwhelmed with all sorts of feelings, but he didn't know how and he couldn't figure them out. And then he says when he met Jiwon, every single moment of his life was filled with first times and I just... I can't... Jiwon has been the most beautiful, welcoming, warming and positive force in his life. If it weren't for her, he may not have ever began his healing process from  years upon years of trauma. I love the focus on their hands. I really do. Almost like he didn't want to let her go back to work, and even asking her if she'll be alright. Hyunsoo, you are such a wonderful husband to her. Goodness.

I do love how when Jiwon entered her workroom and the police chief snapped at her, Sunbae was quick to step up with the continued story of Eunha was sick and he sent her home, so she's not been made aware of the situation, which is half-true. Jiwon had NO idea that Yeom Sangchul busted loose and is on the run. Now, here's something interesting...

"How's your kid? Who's sick? Your first or second?"

WAIT... now why are they making it a point to show that Jiwon only has one child right now??? Is there... is that foreshadowing?? Could there maybe be a chance that Eunha might get a brother or sister in the future??? Or is that just my wishful thinking and overthinking it because the police chief just doesn't know enough about her as a person and that's what they're showing us? Hmmm... Well, here's hoping we get that happy ending with Jiwon pregnant and them having a new baby! *fingers crossed* lol Sorry. Just some Hyunsoo/Jiwon fanwishes. Anyway... I got a good chuckle out of the chief trying to cover his ass by passing out energy drink packets and of course Sunbae being his hilariously greedy self with wanting two and talking about the chief being cheap HAH! I laughed. And then Sunbae gets a call from Hyunsoo... WHAT!? What is going on now??? Wanting to talk where Jiwon can't hear?

So, Hyunsoo is still sitting at the front gate in his car and he's thinking back to something Yeom Sangchul said. "Think hard about it. Whom did you tell this secret to? Who do you think ratted you out to me?" Ooooo, I think Hyunsoo's onto something, though. I get why he doesn't want Jiwon to know, but hasn't he learned his lesson yet? Honey, things go south when you keep secrets from your wife. She's also a police officer. You do realize that, right? And she's a badass one at that. I get you're protecting her from knowing that someone is out to get you, but you gotta tread carefully love... you don't want to break trust between the two of you. You need her trust now more than anything.

Oh look, there's human trafficking trash man eating and the equal trash son laying in bed watching the news on his tablet. And her comes trash mom. Is he really still going to continue pulling off that whole fake slow talk "I just got out of a coma. Feel pity for me" crap? Please. We know he can speak just fine considering he did it earlier with the housemaid. Can he spare me the innocence? And why does he still seem to have himself convinced that Hyunsoo is going to kill him?? Hell, if anything, Hyunsoo will just want to help catch his ass and have him thrown in prison for the disgusting stuff Do Minseok did with him.

So, Moojin is going to play the noble idiot again once more for Haesoo by looking for Hyunsoo? Well, you don't gotta look too far, bro. He's a lot closer than you think. Also, the more I think about it, the more I'm with Moojin. Not because my heart is shriveling over him telling Noona to stop saying she'll turn herself in, but I agree. Sunbae let Hyunsoo go saying he has no interest in him anymore. If Noona goes to the police station now and outright admits to killing the village head all those years ago, there's also a chance that they'll all find out that Jiwon's husband is Do Hyunsoo. Sunbae might be willing to overlook that fact, but that doesn't mean the others will.

Side note, but Moojin, why do you think you deserve a SHRED of care from Haesoo after the shit you've pulled? Sorry but that got on my nerves. Stop comparing yourself to Hyunsoo and your importance to Noona. Hyunsoo is her little BROTHER. He's family. There's a HUGE difference. Jeez, Moojin. Stop being so pushy and clingy. She doesn't WANT to go home. She WANTS to go to the police station. You have no right to tell the driver where to send her. Ugh he's so frustrating sometimes. I have such mixed feelings about him.

Alright, so Hyunsoo and Sunbae are at a cafe now talking about the fact that Hyunsoo has a pretty good idea of who's put a hit out on him. That he'll give Yeom Sangchul a shit ton of money to kill him. And it flashes back to trash dad trying to talk Hyunsoo into leaving if he gives him 10 times the amount. WHY can't these people just leave him alone?? For fuck sake. Hyunsoo states it's just an assumption, but we know he's not wrong and he won't tell Sunbae who thinks the person is til he can confirm it for himself with Sunbae's help. This treading into some very dangerous waters.

Moojin, good grief why do you keep bothering her? We're all well aware you like Haesoo, but she isn't interested in a relationship with you or anyone else. She's at the police station, and it's kind of sad because she believes that Moojin is all Hyunsoo has left. She shows up and just about outs herself when Jiwon smoothly covers it up by claiming she's here to identify the human trafficking victims since it's connected to her father's serial killings.

Okay, so... I LOVE this scene. I LOVE their discussion on the rooftop. It's excellent because it's just what Haesoo needs to hear, no matter how harsh Jiwon came across, it was necessary. Haesoo wastes no time in admitting that she knows Jiwon knows everything, and that Hyunsoo had a very justifiable reason for living as Baek Heeseong. I do love how protective she is over her brother, and yet again, she admits to Jiwon that she killed the village foreman and not Hyunsoo. Haesoo, no... she does not think her husband is a dangerous person because they just spent the night before talking about literally everything. Hyunsoo told her everything he could possibly think of. Jiwon loves him unconditionally. She does not think her husband dangerous for a moment.

"Haesoo, Hyunsoo is no longer a little boy that you need to look after. He's the father of my child. He's my family. He's my person. Now, he has a wife who will stand by his side... no matter what happens. He told me his sister is a very kind person. Whenever something bad happened when he was young, he was always the first to be suspected. He told me you always went around telling people he's innocent. He didn't care what other people thought, but you were always the one who cried and felt upset about it. Because you're so kind, he thought you wouldn't be able to endure other people's criticisms. That's why he took the blame. He didn't care what other people thought about him. If you turn yourself in, he'll no longer be a wanted criminal. But he'll feel guilty and indebted to you for the rest of his life. I don't want that. So... please respect your brother's decision. And... you should be the one to feel guilty instead."

"I'm horrible, aren't I?" No, Jiwon. You are not. I won't lie, your words were harsh, but they had to be said. This was totally necessary. They absolutely had to be, because Haesoo needed to understand and know the importance in all of this. She needed to know that her brother is not alone. That he has a loving wife and family to stay by his side. Jiwon tells her that what they talked about today is that if Haesoo recognized any of the victims in regards to her father's crimes and that is supposed to say no. Noona cries and thanks Jiwon for trusting Hyunsoo. Because it's what he needs. A wife to love him, trust him and help him. Haesoo tells Jiwon that while she's still alive, she'll do everything she can to repay her... while she's still alive?? Is anyone else getting possible death flags from Noona...? I'm worried. Really worried about her. Like it has me nervous. If something happens to her after everything Hyunsoo did for her... I just don't even want to think about it.

#flower of evil #lee joon gi #moon chae won #do hyun soo #cha ji won #baek eun ha #lee joongi #moon chaewon #lee junki #lee jun ki #do hyunsoo #cha jiwon #baek heeseong #jang heejin #flower of evil episode 12 thoughts

[yandere-society]

(ex)fuckboy maknae line hcs trying to convince the reader they're willing to settle down for her but the reader keeps refusing, not believing them.

admin / author: @an-ambivalent

Warning: This post contains yandere themes, abusive relationships, and the characters display other behaviours that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. This is not for the light-hearted so read at your own risk. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour in real life and I do not condone this behaviour either. This work is purely fictional. 

A/N: hello, I sort of used your prompt as a loose guideline. I tried to stick to what you asked for but some scenarios differ slightly from specific details of the request just because I think its good to have this scenario lead to various endings through different choices. Nonetheless, I hope you like it! 

Jimin

It began with pleas. 

“[Name] please, just listen to me,” Jimin begged, and he forcefully cornered you to the quieter side of the bar. He calculatedly situated you in between his body, and the wall to make sure you would not be able to get away. 

He hovered over you threateningly, and it was a position you had long forgotten. However, just like unclean wounds that heal on the surface but deteriorate once they get exposed to the right stimulus once more, Jimin had returned in your life as the infection that would worsen the damage. The scars he left behind had not healed and now, would never heal because he was ready to inject the sick in you once again. 

His touch lacked warmth and felt utterly icy – it was like sleeping with someone with hypothermia – he was going to steal your warmth for himself and then leave you shivering with his own coldness. 

The long forgotten memory of his hurt had remained ingrained in your muscle memory. This was because you instinctively flinched as he grabbed your face with both of his hands firmly, and made you look up into his eyes. 

Pathetic and utter desperation clinging onto the last remains of his sanity was strangely lustrous in his eyes. 

“Baby, you haven’t been replying to my messages… That’s… You know I don’t like that,” He started, and as he spoke, his voice gradually lowered and his eyes narrowed into a glare. Momentarily, he ended up applying a bit more pressure on your face, and you visibly winced. Immediately,  Jimin eased the amount of force he was applying on your face that could have potentially injured you. 

“I, I’m a better person now so I’ll look over that this once. But I-I’m here because I’m ready to settle down with you now. I’m a changed man now I-I swear! I won’t exploit your trust ever again and I’m ready to commit myself. So, you’ll give me another chance won’t you [Name]?” He stammered, and although he was not gripping your face like a tyrant anymore, there was a dangerous glint of the devil etched in his eyes. 

You shook your head. 

“Doesn’t matter what promises you make now Jimin, it doesn’t change the toxicity and hurt you left me with. I– I can’t trust you, not after you cheated on me–” 

“I only did that because I loved you too much! Because I was scared that you were so good for me 

and that I was going to lose you!” He proclaimed, and in response, you scoffed. Fear forgotten, and with a new burning fire in your heart, you shoved Jimin off you. 

“Go take that bullshit to someone else who’s stupid enough to believe you!” You snapped, and turned to walk away. However, Jimin grabbed you by the arm, and roughly pulled you back to him. With his warm breath fanning your ear – it was the warmth that he had started to seep off you without your realisation until this very moment when the cold shivers prickled your skin – his whispered threats killed the newfound determination you thought you had discovered within. 

“I warned you I would only overlook you ignoring me that once. Do it again, or disobey me again, and I’ll upload your private little recorded videos from when we used to be together online.”

(Taehyung and Jungkook under the cut!)

Taehyung

The air in the atmosphere was tense, and the fact that Taehyung’ was close to reaching his breaking point, was evident in the way his irises were empty of emotions. 

What was supposed to be a night of fun, something that would help you destress from all of the other ongoing stress in your life, had turned out to be the opposite; the situation was dire, and its’ twisted plot had just manifested the distress you wanted to get rid off in the first place. 

“You thought I was just a fling?” He asked, and the way he spoke it was posed like a usual question, but you knew better. Beneath his seemingly calm state, there was a volcanic fury on the edge of bursting. The lack of emotion in his voice – a rare phenomena for Taehyung, made you gulp in nervousness. And this nervousness only manifested when you abruptly became aware of the fact that you were having this conversation while you were bare. 

Feeling conscious about the physical aspect of your nakedness was never a problem with Taehyung. With his guaranteed experience that came hand-in-hand with his reputation of being a playboy, it never left any room for dissatisfaction. But much more than that, unlike with anyone else you had ever been with, he always took his time to appreciate – almost worship each aspect of your body. The concept of insecurity was nothing but a fleeting dream in the moments you were involved intimately with him. However, that was not the case right now. So, you could not help but pull the sheets around you closer to yourself, hoping they would provide you with some sort of comforting security. 

“I– You can’t blame me for that can you? With your reputation, how am I supposed to think of this as anything else other than a fling?!” You responded, and the unintentional accusatory tone in your voice, caused Taehyung’s fingers to twitch in anticipation. 

He really hoped you wouldn’t test his self-control again because he could only hold himself back for so long. 

“I told you I loved you, and you said it back.” 

“I– I thought it was an on the spur of the moment kind of thing,” You admitted sheepishly, and then all Taehyung started to see in that moment was red. 

However, before he did something that would have worsened the situation for you or even himself, it was fortunate presently that you were willingly and had decided to speak just in the nick of time. 

“I’m not opposed to becoming serious but I– honestly, I still have my doubts so if you’re willing to prove your loyalty and give me the time I need then we can try,” You offered honestly. Although, your suggestion was not his optimum response, it was better than what you said to Jimin in another alternative universe. 

So, knowing that the situation could be better, but also could be worse, Taehyung decided this was okay… For now. In due time, once he proved himself to you, you were going to give him all of you, and nothing less. 

He gave a smile that was strained ever so slightly. 

“Sure, I’ll wait for you and do whatever it takes to gain your trust. I hope you willingly put the same effort that I do too.”

Jungkook

“You don’t really think you can leave without my permission, do you? Tell me you aren’t that stupid [Name],” Jungkook said, sighing. Then, he rubbed his temples as if to say that dealing with your shenanigans again was a headaching chore to deal with. 

You bit your lip and shifted your gaze to the ground. The small packed bag you held in your hands that consisted of your necessities, was close to slipping out of your grip because your arms were trembling. Whether this was due to sorrow, fear, or both – you did not know. 

“I, I don’t want to be with you anymore Jungkook. I can’t be with you! No matter how much I try to move on from what happened, I just, I can’t deal with it, it’s not healthy for me. You’re not healthy for me. P-Please just let me leave,” You pleaded, and the amount of unease you felt while pleading this, made you feel queasy. 

Jungkook raised an eyebrow and scrutinized you with a  judgemental stare, before he scoffed at you. 

“How many times have we done this now? This is the third time you’ve brought it up. I told you I’m sorry for sleeping with others behind your back, and I promise I won’t do it again. What else do you want me to do?! I can’t go back in time and change the past. Get over it already,” He snapped, and you winced at the harsh loudness of his voice. 

“Why are you so awful–” You started, but Jungkook cut you off. 

“Why are you always nagging me about this? Did you ever stop to think that I slept with others out of my respect for your wishes?! You were the one who wanted to wait for your first time, so I respected your wishes and gave you the time until you were ready and fulfilled my own needs with someone else. And it meant nothing! Each time I slept with someone else it was always you I imagined, and after you became ready to sleep with me, I became ready to settle down with  you,” Jungkook stated, and to him, what he said made perfect sense. He could not understand why you kept on bringing this up and not understand it by now. 

And he was right in the way that you truly did not understand the logic behind his absurd reasoning. If anything, his logic left you feeling completely flabbergasted. The fact that he did not see anything wrong with his actions, and simply apologised for the sake of apologising and did not mean a word of it, repulsed you so much that you lost your touch with reality and were unable to grasp it. 

Seeing the frozen look on your face prompted a sigh out of Jungkook, as he walked towards you. He grabbed your bag out of your hands with one hand, and one of your now free hands with his other. 

He guided you back into your shared abode, reminding himself to arrange something that would prevent your attempts of escape permanently. 

“It’s late at night, let’s sleep on this and talk about it tomorrow,” He said. 

Jungkook decided he either had to lock you up so you could not  get access to your belongings or any money to escape in the first place. Or he would need to induce memory loss to make you forget about the whole sleeping thing so you would stop bringing it up and live together with him in peace. 

—-

I sort of associated fuck boy thing = cheating in this ;;

I sort of wrote and edited this (both) while being half-asleep so that may have contributed to some of the poorer writing ;_; I hope you enjoyed reading it nonetheless! 

#yandere bts #yandere x reader #yandere makane line #yandere jimin #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #yandere jeongguk #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere kpop #obsession #possessive #yandere imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts imagines #ambivalent writes

[quietrainfan]

Okay! It’s the next day and I say that’s more than enough time for me to go back to my Unsympathetic ways! *evil laughter* You can not stop me! Let’s list off the observations, shall we?~ (Warning: Spoilers ahead! Also, obviously, Unsympathetic opinions of the Sides. If that ain’t something that floats your boat, by all means, ignore this post.)

- Patton not allowing Roman to say anything even remotely critical of Virgil

Like, seriously. What Roman said wasn’t even an insult. I mean, I guess it could be considered insensitive to Virgil’s feelings. But how many times has Virgil took jabs (oftentimes low ones) at Roman and was not asked to be nice or apologize? It seems to always be Roman who has to moderate how he speaks while Virgil can mouth off all he wants. Roman wasn’t being malicious, he was just poking some fun. His tone and smile clearly communicate he’s just fooling around and isn’t intentionally trying to get under Virgil’s skin.

I’d have less of a problem with this if one, Virgil was called out more for his behavior. Two, his and Roman’s banter was more equal and friendly rather than guilt-trippy and one-sided. Three, this scene not ending with Roman forcing himself to agree with Virgil’s opinion and Virgil’s condescending little thumbs up afterward. As if to say: “There you go, nice and obedient.”

- Roman using Deceit’s hat for something he isn’t even apart of and without permission (more on that later)

I’m actually going to save this one for last. Because there’s so much to unpack there even though it’s not at the center of attention.

- More of not allowing Logan to have a say in things. Roman taking away his votes because he isn’t wearing a onesie.

Okay so, he’s being excluded from a decision simply because he wasn’t wearing something. I know this may seem like a nick-pick but come on. Give this poor man a break. How many times are the other Sides going to completely brush Logan off and invalidate his input? Even for small things like this he’s being treated like an afterthought. I know Roman pretty much rigged it for everyone and Virgil gave him a look...but this was mostly centered around excluding Logan, yet again. And they still give him flack for not trying to open up. Poor Lo, I wanna just hug him and maybe read something with him just to give some form of comfort from this. And of course, dear ol’ Patton sees no problem with this but was so quick to rush to Virgil’s defense. Then again, this is normal for them. So no one bats an eye at it.

- “I can think of a few ways.”

Not an argument here. Go OFF, Virgil!!! Sorry not sorry, I got SO much satisfaction out of Patton’s face fall here. I was prepared for that line to just be another “Hee Hee Patton line” without so much as an acknowledgment about his actions lately but then I hear THIS! Just good old Patton about to not at all try to address how he treats Thomas and the others as always but then Virgil of all people comes in and lets him have it! Just to rub salt in that well-deserved wound! Yes! That’s right, frown! Frown, HARD! Jeez, that felt so good to see!

I hope we get more of that in the future. Just dissecting Patton’s mistakes and not explaining it away with “he’s trying”!

- “Thomas made his decision and I think we should just try to settle into it.”

HA! That is RICH, Patton! No joke. I laughed so bitterly at that line. Patton, how many times have you tried to sway Thomas in a direction that YOU wanted no matter whether or not it made him happy or was the best decision for him overall? How many times did you guilt-trip him, guilt-trip everyone? How many times did you ignore Roman’s misery (S v S is the most recent example), ignore Virgil’s anxiety? Or amplify it? How many times did you ignore Logan’s advice until it actually had an effect on YOU? You have NO room to talk about allowing Thomas to come to his own decisions when you spent SO long swaying the movement of things to end in your favor. I’m-

How many times did you just “ease into” the changes in Thomas’s life or the other parts of his personality that made you uncomfortable and tried to adjust without judgment? I can’t- *wheeze* Here’s hoping you get some really good character development later on because I just can’t stand you like this.

- “How are you telling me to settle into something right now when you’ve taken your sweet time to settle into things you were uncomfortable with in the past?”

Once again, go OFF, Virgil!!! Call. Him. Out! Patton has been nothing but judgmental and guilt-trippy with whatever he didn’t approve of. He’s made the same mistakes over and over, hardly showing any remorse for it. Only when others point it out does he look bothered. From where I’m standing, it doesn’t feel like he’s ever made as much as an effort as the others. It’s very irritating, to say the least. Him just treating Deceit and Remus like infections rather than apart of Thomas all the time, for example. Trying to repress them rather than understand them, like he did with Virgil. But he likes Virgil, so of course, he didn’t have the same reaction. He doesn’t like Remus or Deceit, so he acts accordingly. Which is really messed up.

Don’t give Virgil that look, Thomas! You know he’s right!

- “There’s nothing wrong with talking! Sometimes you just need to air things out and get a second opinion.”

I’m sorry. Did I just hear that right? *checking with an imaginary person* Who was the one that said that? It was Patton? *non-existant “yes”* Oh, alright.

*clears throat* Getting a second opinion? Getting a second opinion?? Getting a second opinion?! 

...My dude, since when have you wanted a “second opinion”?! Especially from Deceit! Since when did you confront a problem head-on, talk about it without bias, and was satisfied with a conclusion that didn’t cater to your liking?! I genuinely want to see you take initiative, not try to control everything, listen to everyone, and take your role seriously. Without trying to steer everything towards something you personally approve of.

I want to see you go through that change so badly. Drop the goofiness for a bit and commit. Please! *deep sigh*

- Virgil hissing at Deceit

He literally just came to get his hat, dude. He didn’t even acknowledge you. What is your deal? But I guess all Dee has to do is breathe and that’s enough cause for hostility. Jeez. There better be a really good explanation for Virgil’s attitude or I swear I will reach through the damn screen and deal with Virgil myself.

 - Logan putting his onesie on out of sight.

I think this really speaks volumes about how he’s treated. He’s so afraid of being ridiculed and not being respected that he has to hide what he likes. Logan feels if he actually indulges in his other interests openly, he won’t be able to actually enjoy it because it’s “silly” and of course Logan can’t be “silly” because it’s going to cost him his comfort and dignity. And it’s not like he’s wrong for feeling that way. 

There is such a lack of respect for him from the others, day in and day out. He can’t ever let his hair down and relax for a bit. The others complain about him being so closed-off but when opens up, he always gets shut down. When he makes jokes, he can’t just laugh with the others. It’ll be used as material against him later on if he does. (Ex: He misuses a word, it’s used against him later even though it clearly bothers him. It’s not teasing if the recipient isn’t laughing along.)

Logan wants a say in what they watch as a family? Yeah, no. Unless you wear that onesie that we’ll likely make fun of you for, your opinion is invalid.

I can’t imagine what this is doing to Logan’s mental health and self-esteem. Or can I? Because that last clip is pretty telling. Honestly, I respect Lo so much. He has to put up with so much bullshit yet he continues on and does his job anyway. Hopefully, he’ll find some way to feel better about himself.

- Roman using Deceit’s hat for something he isn’t even apart of and without permission (here we are)

Speaking of a complete lack of respect, what the fuck, Roman?! And literally everyone else!

Okay so, Deceit and the Light Sides are not anywhere near on good terms. Especially after S v S! They are not friendly with one another. There’s no dynamic here that allows any of the Light Sides to borrow something from Deceit. While I did laugh at Deceit’s reaction and Roman’s face after was genuinely priceless it still...got me thinking.

Deceit is mistreated all the time. He’s ignored, demonized, villainized by them at every turn. He and Remus aren’t included in any family get-togethers. When he was literally having an emotional breakdown he was laughed at (Virgil) and still ignored. Deceit did everything he could to be heard in a debate and was called “edgy” for expressing genuine concern over Thomas’s well being.

Then Roman obviously sneaks into his space and steals his hat to use for another debate that they’re having??? That also doubles as quality family time that he’s never included in??? Do I really need to explain how utterly disrespectful and messed up that is? And this is after they had the courtroom scenario and left on really tense terms. And they likely haven’t spoken since.

So not only is Deceit going to be constantly demonized, made fun of, and excluded from anything remotely affectionate...but he’s also going to get his personal items stolen on top of all that? How nice. And just...the salt in the wound of using it for a voting and family time...

I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself but I just can’t get over it! The nerve, the audacity...it’s so low!

I honestly don’t know how Deceit remains so civil with the others, it’s truly remarkable. I applaud you, Dee. Respect. Hopefully, you’ll get fairer treatment in the future.

#unsympathetic core sides #unsympathetic patton #unsympathetic virgil #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic logan #platonic sanders sides #sanders sides spoilers #unsympathetic observations #please dni if you don't want to hear what I have to say about these little things and just want to enjoy the episode by itself #this is how I show my love

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 84

Chapter Summary -  Danielle end up discussing their fight and the relationship

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller​ @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​​ @wolfsmom1​​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle sat in the car waiting outside the airport. "Why are you still here?" She looked to Siobhan who was in the back seat.

"I want to meet him."

"And why are you in the backseat?"

"Because he will want to go upfront with you. So are you guys fixed now?"

"No."

"So he's here to fix things?"

"No."

"Then why is he here?"

"To prevent me committing murder." Siobhan laughed. "He insisted because he knows when I am stressed as hell."

"I heard Richard spoke to him."

"Yeah, he answered my phone, but Tom didn't leave a message. Do you know, he actually thought Richard was some guy I met," Danielle laughed.

"Really? How did that conversation come about?"

"I guessed why he seemed odd after I said Richard's name on the phone," Danielle explained. "He honestly thought I would just drop him like that and find someone else."

"Okay, you two seriously need to talk things out…ooh, that's him, okay he is sexier in real life. Maybe you should have fixed this over the phone, how can you stay mad at that?"

"You are literally no help, Siobhan."

"I am not here to help, I am here to be as nosy as fuck at my cousin's sexy celebrity boyfriend."

"He's not my…" Danielle corrected as Tom looked at the car, recognised her and start walking towards them.

"Yeah, bullshit, that is why you are getting a pinkish tinge to your cheeks and you look like all your birthdays have come at once, pull the other one, Danielle. You are smitten."

Danielle was relieved she had no time to respond because she had nothing she could argue to that. Tom opened the back door of the car to put in his bag but paused, seeing a person inside. "Oh."

"Don't mind her, in fact, hit her with the damn thing," Danielle stated, earning a glare from Siobhan.

"Don't mind Danielle, she's just moody because I am calling her out on her bullshit, Hi, I'm Siobhan." Siobhan beamed in the backseat, extending her hand to Tom.

Tom was slightly taken back by her forwardness. "A face for the name, hello." He shook her hand.

"He's taller than I'd have thought." Siobhan half-whispered to Danielle.

"Jesus, will you ever just go back to your plaything in Dublin." Danielle shook her head as her cousin made a show of herself. "Let Tom put in his bag."

Siobhan got out and made room for Tom to put his bag in, Danielle putting her head in her hands as she watched Siobhan, utterly unashamedly stare at Tom's ass as he put the bag in the car. "So, are you two heading straight back to Nan's?" Siobhan asked as Tom opened the passenger door.

"Have you eaten?" Danielle asked. Tom shook his head, she turned to Siobhan. "We'll get something to eat."

"Murphy's?"

"Murphy's," Danielle confirmed.

"Ooh, get me an order of wings."

"If you leave now, I'll get you a double," Danielle promised.

Siobhan looked at her for a moment, "Bye." And ran off towards her own car.

"Did she not come here with you?" Tom asked worriedly as he got in.

"I just got this rental while waiting for you. It's handier now," Danielle explained. "She drove me here."

"That was nice of her." Tom smiled, looking over at her. "Hello."

"Hi." Danielle gave a small smile back. "How are you?"

"I thought I was tired, but you look like you are completely worn out, do you want me to drive?"

"No, I'm fine." Danielle dismissed. "I just need a good nights sleep."

"Is it far to this Murphy's?"

"An hour or so, the food is proper, nice and tasty, you'll love it." Danielle smiled as she drove through the parking area of the airport.

"Takeaway?"

"No, a bar and restaurant not too far from my parent's place," Danielle answered as they joined the traffic on the main road. She sensed Tom looking at her. "What?"

"A regular restaurant, a public place?"

"Tom it's in rural Galway, no offence, but most of these people wouldn't recognise Pierce Brosnan, Roger Moore and Sean Connery if they sat in front of them discussing Bond, and if they did, they would not care, I can assure you."

"But on the off chance, you are okay with being seen?" Danielle bit her lips together and her eyes began to water slightly. "Did I say…?"

"I was...um, I was talking to Siobhan the other day, and I spoke about you, and…" She shook her head. "I really fucked up," Tom said nothing, he just listened. "I thought she told Deirdre about you, and I got a little annoyed and confronted her, and she told me she only mentioned that I had someone, I don't even think she mentioned your name, much less who you are and I realised that I was so scared of people telling the media that I never noticed how much it sounded like I was ashamed of us, and then I thought of how you must have felt." She glanced at him for a moment. "I wasn't ashamed, Tom, I was so happy, I loved it, but I didn't act like it. I guess I just got scared." she began to feel her eyes water more. "Shit." she indicated in and pulled in next to a field gate.

"Are you alright?"

"I can't see." She explained. "I am such a sap."

"Elle." Tom took her hand in his. "I know you were scared, I know it is so daunting, I should not have been so horrible as to say that, and no, I was not aware of how much effort you were putting in, and believe me, if I had, I…I said stupid things, I dismissed you. I should never have argued whether or not you should have been hurt by something, only you can say whether or not you are, and no you have not changed, too much, you have a little, I mean, I think I am slowly convincing you to organise your books better, but that's a change for the better." He grinned cheekily.

Danielle laughed. "Idiot." she looked at her hand in his. Tom thought it wise to gently give Danielle her hand back. "So, we better go and get something to eat," she stated awkwardly before beginning to drive again. "It's really nice."

"Can I ask something?" Tom asked.

"Yes."

"Yes, I can ask or…?"

"Yes, ask, though I think I know what it is," She clarified.

"Are we going to try and talk about us?" Tom ventured.

"Do you want to?"

"I do, I know I seemed somewhat desperate and yes, full-on last week Elle, but that is because I do genuinely love you, I want to try and fix this."

"So you didn't find a model to run away with in Milan?" She queried, her tone very much indicating she was joking.

"No, definitely not." He looked at her to convey his honestly.

"We need to fix a few things."

"Yes, we do. We will, won't we?"

"Honesty and communication are what will get us back I think," Danielle stated. "I hope."

Tom was unsure she meant to say the last part aloud, but her obvious wish to fix things was all he needed to hear. "I had no idea she would focus so much on Taylor."

"It was the first time you mentioned her and all of that…situation, I was stupid to think she wouldn't."

"My out of character, I suppose morose demeanour is almost the correct term for it, when she was there, it was because I was trying to deal with the dynamic of us, I am not used to being the one left behind, before this, I did the travelling, it is different for me now, not negative, but an alteration, I am so used to my routine, then it changed when you came to stay, then you left for work, and I know you will have to again when you get more jobs, but it was hard coming to accept that for me, it was not what I am used to."

"Do you regret asking me to come to stay with you after Christmas?"

"No." She gave him a momentary glance. "No Elle, I would never regret that. I hope I never made you feel like I did, because honestly; I loved it, I love having you there with me, us being a team, you doing the laundry as I fled the room at the most 'convenient' of times." Danielle laughed and shook her head. "Remember how you said that your house didn't smell enough like me over Christmas?"

"Yes." She admitted.

"I feel like I was so worried that that would happen, I want things to remain as it is, us together, I suppose I sabotaged things slightly too."

"No one is perfect." Danielle shrugged. "Not even me."

Tom said nothing for a moment, thinking over everything. "The time apart has done us both some good so."

"Yes, lesson learned there." Danielle concurred. "I am sorry I went and said I was done rather than say I needed space, that was unfair. I should never have toyed with you like that."

"Why did you feel like you had to call it quits?" Tom probed, in all honesty, he was terrified of pushing her away again, but he needed to know, he needed to see if it was something she did because of fear or if there was some other issue at play.

"I don't know, I…I need to figure that out. I was willing to hurt myself to get away from something that was not hurting me, not overly. I mean that article hurt, but that was one little scrap of a thorn while looking at a gorgeous rose." Tom smiled at the comparison.

"When you were younger, what would happen when something went wrong?" Tom asked.

"What do you mean?"

"If people would be nasty to you if you felt let down, what would you do?"

"Go to my room or go running or something," Danielle answered, not seeing why it mattered too much.

"So you fled the situation?"

"Yeah, don't most people?"

"They tend to take a step back, not run for their lives, darling," Tom explained.

"According to who?" She gave him a small glance to convey her curiosity.

"My counsellor."

"You have a counsellor?"

"No, had, when I was school and trying to get over mum and dad getting divorced."

"Makes sense." She shrugged. "So I went too far. I need to fix me."

"Fix?"

"Since you mentioned me changing, I have been looking over myself."

"Elle, I said that because I was mad."

"But I feel like I have, and I don't like it." He said nothing. "I just need to find me again. I had to be the old me with Bernie recently, and I miss the confidence I had."

"I don't make you feel confident?" Tom felt deeply hurt by that.

"No, this isn't you Tom, this is me."

"That sounds like a particularly common line."

Danielle laughed slightly. "I suppose it does. But people use that to break up, I don't want that."

"So what do you want?"

"I need to take some time to fix me, Tom, I feel kind of lost."

Tom looked at her sadly. "Country mouse in the city?"

"I think so. I can adapt, I just need time."

"I understand." It was true, he did, but it hurt nonetheless.

"I think hiding was doing me no favours." Tom looked to her. "If, after the Kong tour, you want to…maybe Luke could…" She glanced sideways again and saw Tom's face. "Sorry, it was stupid…"

"You...you want to consider…"

"I want to go to the shop with you, go for dinner, lunch, coffee, walk the fucking dog and that means in London, we are going to be seen, and I need to either grab it by the balls and get over it, or say here and now that to go any further is wasting our time. We both said already we want something serious, something to last, it's not going to last if I am hiding. I don't want to be a show dog but like Ben and Sophie. I know it means being under fire but in all fairness, bar my stupid little tantrum at being called a brat, I think I can handle it."

"Are you certain?"

"I know there are going to be hard days, but yeah, I think I can." she looked at him to convey her belief in her words.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 84 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

[fuckyeahcharmcaster]

Yet More Venting

The more time passes and the more I think about it, the Ledgerdomain plotline that ran throughout UA and OV utterly baffles me. Beyond the usual main characters of the show, there are four major players here: Adwaita, Spellbinder, Hex and Charmcaster (Darkstar gets involved too, but accomplishes squat so there was really no reason for his presence at all). 

My question is: what exactly were intended to feel toward these characters?

I literally have no clue, because the story was just that badly written. 

Chronologically speaking, it all began when Adwaita found Ledgerdomain, obtained the Alpha Rune, went mad and became a dictator. That’s all well and good, but then we get to the humans of Ledgerdomain...namely that besides Hex and Charmcaster, there aren’t any more of them because Adwaita killed them all. He was fine enslaving every other race within the realm, but he hated humans so personally for “stealing” magic that he felt only he should use that he systemically captured, imprisoned and slaughtered them. Now what does THAT remind you of, exactly? That’s right, Ledgerdomain humans = Jews, Adwaita = Hitler. And remembering how Ben 10 handled their last Nazi allegories (the Highbreed), this should be immediately concerning.  And sure enough, this aspect of Adwaita eventually gets brushed aside and he is allowed to have zany interactions with Gwen, Hex and Darkstar after having been restored to sanity through losing the Alpha Rune. He’s still evil, but it’s treated as just being garden variety evil, the genocide factor is forgotten entirely. And that’s just...awful.

Now that they’re revealed to be magical holocaust survivors, Hex and Charmcaster should be treated with more sympathy, right? Well, Hex certainly is, since he quickly reforms after this revelation is made to the audience. But Charmcaster remains a villain, even if an on/off kind of villain. And then we run into our next lapse in logic: according to the narrative, Spellbinder trusted his brother Hex to take care of his daughter, he gave them passage to Earth and sacrificed his life in the process. And yet Hex doesn’t take care of Charmcaster, he abuses her and forces her into a life of evil-doing because he’s pissed and wants to conquer Earth so that he can ultimately fight Adwaita’s world full of enslaved sentient beings with his own world full of enslaved sentient beings. Hex is thus portrayed as a massive hypocrite who spit on his late brother’s wishes, and yet we’re supposed to accept him becoming a good guy so easily?

Worse, he’s the one who forced Charmcaster, as a literal child, onto the road to villainy. And yet this fact goes almost entirely unaddressed the entire time while he’s a good guy and Charmcaster’s still a bad guy. They even play it in a way where her staying a bad guy is a reason we should feel sorry for Hex! What the fuck? If Darkstar was good for anything here, it was being the sole person to acknowledge this discrepancy (Gwen is trapped in a bag with Hex, Darkstar and Adwaita; Hex tells Gwen that none of them are responsible for this situation to which Darkstar says “Speak for yourself, “Uncle Hex” - she’s YOUR niece.” Basically Darkstar’s way of saying “she learned it from watching you, you fucking asshole.”)

Oh, and speaking of Charmcaster, what’s the reason the narrative decides to keep her a villain? Because after being embittered by the other rebels turning on her for the sake of power after she deposed Adwaita, she ultimately claimed the Alpha Rune and decided to sacrifice every soul in Ledgerdomain in order to bring her father Spellbinder back to life. Yes, that includes all the creatures that serve her and all those that did not partake in the rebels’ treachery and bloodshed such as the golem Ignatius. If Charmcaster was operating under any logic, she would have known her father wouldn’t want that, and that he’d reject a return to life brought about that way, that committing genocide is putting her on Adwaita’s level...and yet she isn’t and doesn’t, which means she goes through with it and the only reason it doesn’t stick is due to Spellbinder’s choice, not from her’s. In-universe, the question is raised as to how sorry we should feel for her afterward, and it’s not given a conclusive answer which just makes the whole thing seem pointless, confusing and mean-spirited. Why couldn’t Charmcaster just have stayed reformed after “Where the Magic Happens”? Kevin 11 and the Highbreed were reformed with less effort, so why drag it out with this character?

And as much as OV tries to forget about this whole thing, it also gives Charmcaster a forced reason to be a villain that undermines any sympathy you may or may not ought to be feeling for her: she’s listening to advice for Adwaita. Yes, the same Adwaita who killed her father and the rest of her kind. The excuse given is that she’s not in her right mind due to stress and the Alpha Rune triggering a mental breakdown, but even that hardly seems sufficient since she clearly isn’t crazy to the point of forgetting who Adwaita is and what he has done. She, Hex and Adwaita all just come off as skating by on their truly despicable choices and actions.

The only character who should come out unscathed is Spellbinder...and yet somehow they manage to fuck that up too! When he is brought back to life by his daughter’s genocidal ritual, he is naturally horrified by it and elects to return to being dead in order to restore all those souls. Perfect, that’s exactly the reaction he should have. The problem is that there’s no pressing time limit, so before returning to being dead he could easily try pressing his daughter for details as to just how and why the fuck she got to the point where she thought this bullshit was acceptable, locate the root causes, and ensure that this kind of thing never happens again: that his wishes for her get fulfilled this time. The simple act of making her promise to live on the straight and narrow for now on otherwise he’ll be eternally rolling in his grave would be enough, given how her love for him is clearly verging on psychotic levels.

But no, instead he just bemoans that she ever came back to Ledgerdomain and says she went against his wishes (without acknowledging his brother and his role in this, I notice) and tells her “you became a worse tyrant than Adwaita ever was”. Not only is this very tactless given the circumstances of Charmcaster’s mental state, but it doesn’t even add up: what Charmcaster did was horrifying, but she did it all at once through a magic ritual and was motivated primarily by love for her father...whereas, again, Adwaita literally re-enacted the Nazi way of committing genocide and did so purely out of hate for the realm’s humans. That’s a world of difference that means there was still the possibility of steering Charmcaster the right way, and Spellbinder all but ensured that this possibility would NOT happen with his words! You don’t tell a dangerously mentally unstable person something that is guaranteed to make them more mentally unstable. You just don’t. Where is the fucking logic in doing so? It’s like telling a suicidal person on a ledge “Just go ahead and jump; it’s what you deserve!”

When last left off, Spellbinder was still dead, Adwaita was on the loose but having lost his supreme Alpha Rune-granted power, Hex was given a comfortable position of privilege as a university professor, and Charmcaster was undergoing magic rehab whenever she wasn’t being made to compete in weird game shows. If the story was a good one, the question should now be “where do they go from here?”  But the real question is “why should I care?” 

Ugh. Charmcaster circa OS, or even circa AF, deserved better than this shit.

[mokutonprince]

K so, this happened last night while I was trying to sleep and this thing was born-

Natasha and Pepper were walking through the halls of the pound, towards the rec room where the other Avengers were relaxing when FRIDAY called out, "Ms. Potts. Agent Romanoff, there is a disturbance in the lab where Tony and Mr. Parker are located, that you need to see." apparently even AI's could sound concerned, catching the attention of the lounging team as Natasha pulled up the screen.

The sound of Peter's brokenvoice broke the silence.

"What? I'm not good enough?" he asked, tears clear in his tone, if not the life video feed that was a tad too blury from the distance.

"Don't pull that on me, kid-" Tony tried to say but Peter burst, voice rising in a way none of the team had heard before.

"I'M NOT A KID! STOP TREATING ME LIKE I'M SOME SORT OF CHILD! I FIGHT CRIME AND PROTECT THIS CITY JUST AS MUCH AS YOU AND THE REST OF THE AVENGERS! I'M 19 FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

But Tony simply scoffed, like it was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "What? Like you declaring your love for me when you were 16?" the way his tone was uncaring and just the words were enough to raise a few eyebrows and a little sigh from Steve, because he very well knew and he had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

"Don't you fucking dare-" Peter started, but now it was Tony's turn to shout,

"No! Don't YOU DARE PULL THE GUILT BULLSHIT ON ME! I TOLD YOU TO GET OVER IT AND FIND SOMEONE WHO COULD GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANTED!"

"I've been in love with you for 5 years! But all you see me as, is some sort of helpless kid who needs a parent! I JUST WANTED YOU!" Peter was crying harder now, eyes blurry as he stared hard at the man he loved, unsure of how he was even speaking without stumbling over his words.

Tony pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose before he growled out the words that made Peter was to die "I'm going to marry the love of my life in two months. I love Pepper! Not-not some love sick kid!"

In the Rec room, Pepper had a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes, watching in disbelief because she had no idea..Nat was watching with narrowed eyes, Sam's hand on her shoulder the thing grounding her enough not to go after the heartless fucker.

And Steve..Steve was doing no better, Bucky's only hand on his arm and squeezing because he could feel the man shaking. He had warned him, told Peter not to tell him and try and move on, like Tony did but much less cruel and now..now his sweet Peter is getting heartbroken and he can't do anything to stop it.

"They warned me. They kept telling me to get over you, to find someone better than you. And you know what I told 'em?" Peter was a little calmer now, but calm in a sense that his voice was passive but his face was utterly broken. "I told them that you can't force a heart into something. You'd think I would have gotten over it, over you after a year, but it got worse and it grew and I love you Tony, with my whole he-art." his voice cracked, pathetic and broken as he tried his hardest to get him to understand, yet Tony wasn't listening.

"That's enough! You need to go out and find someone your own fucking age! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU DO! JUST NOT ME!"

Then, Peter wasn't thinking when he said, "What? Like you did when you were my age? Putting your dick in anything that had a fucking pulse and getting high on fucking cocaine because it's all-"

The loud SMACK of skin on skin echoed loud through both the lab and the speakers into the other room, followed by shocked silence that rung heavy.

Pepper was crying more now, unsure of how to handle this and Nat moved a hand up to comfort her, ignoring her own desire to commit murder on the most rish man in the country while Steve was no better. His blue eyes were wide in disbelief and his short finger nails dug deep into his palms.

Peter's head whipped to the side, glassy brown eyes wide and staring at nothing, lips slightly parted as he slowly brought a shaky hand to his once pale cheek that now bore the perfect red mark of Tony's hand that was still raised and extended up to the side. His own eyes were wide in horror because he realized what he just did.

"Peter-" Tony whispered but the boy remained silent as he walked over to his work table, scarily calm as he gathered his papers and notebooks and placed them back into his bag. He didn't look at the older man as he walked out ofbthe lab, his body numb and blank as he took the elevator up from the basement. He wasn't really even sure of where he was going but as soon as he took a step out of the elevator, he was wrapped up in a pair of strong familiar arms and held against a hard chest. All he had to do was breath in Steve's scent before he let go and wailed, his entire being shaking with ugly loud sobs as he clung to the only person he felt save with and Steve held him, rubbing his back as he placed soft, barely there kisses to Peter's hair.

Hearing the slap and seeing it made everyone tense but it only took a second for Steve to react before he 'Captian walked' out and down the hall so he could give that fucker a piece of his hands, Bucky right behind him, because he wasn't going to stop it. Tony was just lucky he didn't have his metal arm.

________________________________

Uh, yeah. :) @reniisbooks because you gave me the encouragement indirectly and I wanted to give a shot in drama.

#peter parker #spiderman #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #starker #peter x steve #steve rogers #Captain america #Drama #fanfiction #fanfic

[davidmann95]

Best comics of 2018?

A handful of disqualifications up front: since they’re just beginning, I’m not counting Electric Warriors, Martian Manhunter, The Green Lantern (though Evil Star explaining his name in #2 might be my favorite moment in comics this year), Ironheart, DIE, Shazam!, Killmonger, The Batman Who Laughs, or Miles Morales: Spider-Man, all of which almost certainly would have ended up somewhere in here with some more time. Additionally, I switched to a new online pull list system in March, so I don’t have a list of what I got before then - if I’m forgetting about something great that came out early this year, there’s a good chance that would be why.

Honorary Mentions: While there were plenty of comics I was happy to keep up with, a number stood out as exemplary examples of straight-take relatively traditional capeshit: Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV and companies’ Justice League, Steve Orlando’s Justice League of America (which would probably go among the best of the best if the art was a bit more consistent or the lineup more to my personal tastes), Brian Bendis and Nick Derington’s Batman work in the Walmart 100-Page Giants, Donny Cates’ Thanos and Doctor Strange work (the latter might not have quite made it, but that last issue with Irving and Zdarsky was gangbusters), Steve Orlando’s brief Wonder Woman run with Laura Braga, ACO, and Raul Allen, Tim Seeley’s Green Lanterns, Nnedi Okorafor and Leonardo Romero’s Shuri, Robert Vendetti and Bryan Hitch’s Hawkman, Saladin Ahmed, Javier Rodriguez, Rod Reis, Dario Brizuela, and Joe Quinones’s Exiles, Captain America by both the Mark Waid/Chris Samnee team and the current Ta-Nehisi Coates/Lenil Francis Yu lineup, Dan Slott and Valerio Schiti’s Tony Stark: Iron Man when it’s committed solely to being a superhero comic and not Dan Slott trying to be Contemporary, Brian Bendis, Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette, and Ryan Sook’s Action Comics, and Kelly Thompson and Stefano Caselli’s West Coast Avengers. 

On the slightly different side of things, Steve Orlando and Giovanni Timpano showed how you do an intercompany crossover right with The Shadow/Batman, Max Bemis’s Moon Knight while not living up to all it could have been - and likely to age poorly - had moments of truly bizarre grace, Saga was Saga even if I’ve lost the plot, Ahmed and Christian Ward’s Black Bolt concluded as well as we all might have hoped, Warren Ellis and Jon Davis-Hunt’s The Wild Storm continued to build up steam in its own fascinating style, Doomsday Clock remains utterly captivating in spite of itself, and Tom Peyer and Jamal Igle’s The Wrong Earth is making the most of a deceptively tough premise. On the one-off end, Chip Zdarsky and Declan Shalvey’s Marvel Two-In-One Annual is an essentially perfect off-kilter Doom/Richards story, Action Comics #1000 had no chance of living up to all it needed to be but was largely a great set of Superman stories regardless, and while the remainder of the miniseries has thus far been fine, Tim Seeley and Carlos Villa’s first issue of Shatterstar was a strange, special delight.

My Favorite Comics of 2018

Rock Candy Mountain: Technically Jackson - the rail-rider who can beat Any One Man in a fistfight - reached the end of his journey for hobo heaven this year, and flat-out, every Kyle Starks comic is a perfect one. This is a book where the first issue has a dude beating ass with a beautiful savagery that leaves an awestruck onlooker declaring “He’s got punch diarrhea and their faces are the toilet bowl”, and by the end it built up to one of the most moving climaxes of the year. It’s a comic about fallen men finding redemption in friendship and in dreams, and also there’s a cage fighter who calls himself Hundred Cats because it would be really hard to fight a hundred cats.

Dark Knights: Metal: This is the final, perfected form of traditional Event Comic Bullshit. Everything good about Snyder, Capullo, Glapion, and Plascencia’s Batman post-Court Of Owls is retooled and reenergized to fit the scale of a Crisis event, everything that I would have considered to be a weakness regarding their partnership either burned away or placed in a context where it becomes a strength. This is the Morrison approach to the DCU rightfully ascendant and presented in a form even more fit for mass consumption, and manages to live up to being the first classic-style, large-scale DC event comic in almost a decade - Marvel may blow its own load every six months until it’s simply got nothing to offer anymore, but DC waited until they really and truly had something, and that something was bloodsoaked magic.

Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man (by Chip Zdarsky and assorted artists): I actually wavered a bit on whether this belonged in the best of the best as a whole; most of the issues this year were definitely very good (regarding Zdarsky’s run specifically, I haven’t checked out the Spider-Geddon tie-in stuff), but more on the honorary mention end of the scale. Ultimately however, the Amazing Fantasy arc and #310 are Spider-Man comics I’m going to be coming back to for years to come - the latter is going to end up in every ‘Best Spider-Man Stories Ever’ softcover from now until the end of time - and they tipped the scales.

Batman: Very much in the same boat as Spidey above; a lot of this year didn’t do it for me in the same way as this run has in the past, but The Best Man is the best thing anyone’s done with Joker since Morrison, the ‘wedding issue’ itself worked really well for me, Cold Days made a premise that’s often stymied creators work as well as people have always wanted it to, and the Dick team-up issue was a perfect little summation of a relationship, nevermind how much this year succeeded in getting me hyped up for things to come.

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl: This is one of those comics where it’s so consistently good in such a specific, quiet way that people stop talking about it, but for real, this has never not in the top five or six things Marvel is publishing at any given time for as long as it’s been around. Erica Henderson leaving right before hitting the Kraven story that had been building literally since its first issue 3 years earlier could have been disastrous, but North and new artist Derek Charm manage to hit their own rhythm and continue delivering one of the funniest, cleverest, most sincere superbooks on the stands every month.

Mister Miracle: Yeah, it really was that good.

The Immortal Hulk: So is this, and if I have to name a single best comic of the year, this has probably gotta be it. Al Ewing’s been Marvel’s best creator for a long, long time, and putting him and Joe Bennett (who holy moley, I don’t think anyone would have guessed had this in him) on a tentpole character Ewing’s got genuine reverence for worked out even better than a fanboy like me might have expected. It’s sublime horror, it’s perfect Marvel comics continuity bullshit, and if the superhero is at heart a morality fable, this is very much a soul-searing apex of the genre as it speaks of how we can all go wrong.

Eternity Girl: …or maybe this is the best? It’s probably gotta be this, Hulk, or Miracle. Mister Miracle’s where the comparison really becomes clear, as they’re both books way out on the fringes of the DCU dealing with a character grappling with depression amidst the mundanity of their cyclical existence. However, as perfectly constructed and rawly human as Mister Miracle is, this hits a lot more of my own buttons and expresses its own brand of more surreal emotional authenticity, and rather than the expected and beautiful next step of a pair of already-acclaimed creators with an established partnership, this was a shock coming out party for Visaggio and Liew, who do things stylistically just as odd to see in a DC Comic as anything King and Gerads came up with. It seemed to sail under the radar for readers but also seems to be racking up awards, and I hope this’ll attain the reputation it deserves in years to come.

Ice Cream Man: Likely the respectable fourth place to the three above, while I can’t quite sing its praises in quite the same way when it’s playing so hard-to-get that I can’t quite put a pin in what it’s ultimately about, oh my GOD this is as good as gut-punch horror gets. Not simply grody shock-value stuff, but pit-of-your-stomach-everything-in-the-world-hates-you-and-you-were-wrong-to-ever-believe-in-love shit that’ll rattle your bones and fuck you up good. Not usually a horror guy myself, but this is an essentially perfect comic.

The Man Of Steel: Screw all y’all, this kicked ass and after how hard the Rebirth books blew it - Jon and the new status quo were both excellent, Tomasi had good bits here and there alongside some quality fill-in teams, but those books were still aaaaaaaaaaassssss - this is exactly the fresh start Superman’s needed for years. Granted the Fabok interstitials had some wonky pacing, but this was on-point and insightful for Superman as a character, exciting as hell, and has thus far led to nothing but more good comics as far as I’m concerned.

Milk Wars: Did the various tie-ins live up to the bookends? Nah, though the Shade/Wonder Woman story was pretty good. But those bookends? Friends, those books were AAA+ sup-per-he-ro-bull-SHIT, and while I was initially let down because it seemed as though it would have Superman in a major role and then didn’t, this is even more of an apotheosis of the Morrison approach to the genre than Metal. ACO is ACO, Eaglesham slaughtered it, and Orlando and Way should be as joined at the hip as cowriters as Abbnett and Lanning used to be. This is a gold standard for strange, edgy, colorful, wondrous, fucked-up superhero comics, and there should be a million more like it every day.

Justice League (by Christopher Priest and assorted artists, primarily Pete Woods): On the exact opposite end of the scale, while I don’t think I can say I enjoyed this book as much as the current Snyder-helmed gonzo cosmic adventures, I absolutely feel this was the better of the two. More importantly, this run is the successful version of what just about every other Justice League comic of the past 15 years has been trying and failing to be as the post-Authority, post-Ultimates, post-Civil War take on the concept. It’s as smart and atmospheric and bold as a book like Justice League ever CAN be, building its exploration of the conceptual stress points of the team around one and two-part adventures and clever character dynamics, illustrating an interesting new take on how to handle the main team book with the power players: taking their ability to handle physical threats as a relative given, a structural conceit acting as a delivery mechanism for the politics and people in play. It hardly breaks new ground in terms of redefining the superhero concept, but it’s as far as they’ve gone with the marquis characters without ending in disaster, and it’s an approach I’d love to see more often applied to this scale.

Superman: Walmart 100 Page Giant (by Tom King and Andy Kubert): Of all the places for King to do a regular Superman comic, huh? Still, we’d already seen what he’d done in that Batman two-parter and Action #1000, so I’m more than willing to take what we can get (even if most are going to have to wait for this to come out in trade). There have been four installments so far: the first is the sort of stage-setting that’s common to this type of long-form arc but with a distinctly different atmosphere than how this is typically done with the character, evoking a sort of Miller-tinged Golden Age flavor connecting Superman back down to Earth before throwing him into the stars. The third is a great Fuck Yeah Superman Doin’ Superman Shit throwdown that gives Kubert a chance to shine. The fourth and most recent is haunting, inspired, moving, and tight as a drum. And the second begins as the worst-case scenario of Tom King doing a Superman comic, and ends as likely my favorite Superman story of the last 5 years. If it continues in its current direction, Superman: Up In The Sky is almost certainly going to be a perennial people are going to rank among the best Superman stories of all time for decades to come, and everything I’d want out of this team tackling my favorite character.

Detective Comics (by James Tynion IV and assorted artists): I’m honestly surprised at myself for putting this here, but I just have to hand it to this run - which had to go quite a ways to win me over, between its opening gambit with Batwoman’s status quo and centering the whole thing around my least-favorite Robin (even if it won me over to him over time) - as basically being the platonic form of Dang Good Superhero Comics. Not boundary-pushing, not the sort of thing you’ll remember in 20 years, but just really fun, exciting, good-looking, slick, character-driven adventures building on themselves into the logical culmination of 21st century popular Batman stories. This is Batman 101, but in a good way, and I honestly think that on reflection it’s gonna hold together better as a Batman run than its immediate predecessor in Snyder/Capullo.

You Are Deadpool: This is the smartest, funniest, most inventive big two comic of the year and even if you’re so tired of Deadpool that your skull bones are threatening to suddenly contract and spear your brain in an attempt at saving your weary soul from the prospect of seeing any more of him, you should get this.

Superman (by Brian Bendis and Ivan Reis): I noted Action Comics among the honorable mentions, as while it’s a dang good comic that I enjoy a great deal - and Ryan Sook may well have established himself as my ideal modern Superman artist - it’s very much the best possible version of *exactly* what you’d expect from Brian Bendis doing Superman. This, on the other hand, feels like Bendis stretching himself to do something truly different in a way he hasn’t in years, and the results are stunning. I won’t pretend Rogol Zaar has amounted to much of anything as of yet, but Bendis has acclimated to the realm of Cosmic Superman Punch-Ups in a way no one could have reasonably seen coming; he’s managed to sidestep his usual issues by anchoring each issue in a crazy setpiece and a single perfect Superman character moment, and Reis is doing work here than can unquestionably stand alongside his Sinestro Corps War heyday. Whether it’s #1 having Superman fight an astro-goilla in the middle of a questioning on his responsibilities to humanity, #4 going full Shonen in the best possible way with probably my favorite fight scene of the year, or #6′s storybook mythmaking building to the best, cruelest needle in the balloon possible, or the consistent delightful fucking with Adam Strange, every issue here has something I didn’t know I badly wanted to see, and damn if that isn’t exactly what I want in my Superman stuff.

Assorted one-offs: Along with the major arcs and runs, we’ve got stuff like the Thanos Annual and DC Nuclear Winter Special, as good as anthologies of this kind get. T-shirt Superman got one last ride under Morrison in the Sideways Annual, fighting his way out from under the wreckage of a weird DiDio book to get exactly the sendoff he deserved. The Injustice 2 Annual, of all things, was a perfect piece of bittersweet character work. Invincible #144 satisfyingly closed out The Best Superhero Comic In The Universe by essentially also doing Invincible #145-500 or so, putting this often tumultuous title to bed with the dignity it had earned. And finally, Slott and Marcos Martin’s The Amazing Spider-Man #801 was a perfect minor mediation not even on the title character so much as the basic moral appeal of the genre as a whole.

#Comics #DC Comics #Marvel #Image #Opinion

[blessuswithblogs]

Katsura Hashino is a Big Fat Creep and Other Observations

(for the record all uses of the word “queer” in this post are meant in the academic sense as shorthand for a wide umbrella group of gender and sexual minorities and not as a slur i hope that is evident from my past history and status as Big Gay Bitch Who Loves Girls but let it never be said i don’t cover my ass)

A few weeks ago, Catherine: Full Body Edition or whatever gross subtitle it got was released. Catherine has had a very checkered history as one of those games that is just kind of slimy, though it has endured with a cult following and a surprisingly successful competitive community by way of the game's multiplayer mode where you compete to see who can climb The Dream Sex Tower the best. Honestly, I don't know that much about Catherine because it is difficult to think of a game that repulses me more on a visceral level, but I want to do my due diligence and not talk out my ass. One of Catherine's initial claims to fame was that it was by Atlus Japan, specifically the same people who made the much beloved Persona games. This is evident in the game's art, music, overall style of delivery, and being basically hate speech.

The original Catherine was a greasy, misogynistic mess with some really vile politics about trans people in particular. Deadnaming your own fictional character in the credits is some next level petty malice. Full Body returns with, stupendously, a double down on this ideology that is actually kind of comical in how convoluted it gets in trying to decry the Degenerate Queer Lifestyle. The game adds a scene with Rin, who is apparently a gay crossdresser from space(???????), getting slapped away and running away crying from their love interest after he learns The Terrible Truth. In another game, with a different writing team, this could have been a teachable moment about the destructive consequences of taking too narrow a view of human sexuality and gender expression, but as it stands it's just another tiresome example of Trans Panic with a sheepish admonishment from the other characters that gosh maybe slapping their hand away was a mean thing to do.

So we're already firing on all cylinders here, but the best is yet to come. The bulk of the outcry comes from the addition of a weird "true ending" cutscene where Catherine, who is also from space, goes back in time to make everybody's life better. Or something. This is already pretty stupid on the face of it because its Fucking Time Travel Out of Nowhere, but the scene then depicts a pre-transition Erica, the game's trans character who got deadnamed in the credits the last time. There has been a lot of exceptionally tedious discussion about exactly when this scene takes place in the game's chronology and what it means for Erica, and some brain geniuses have tied their thinkmeats into pretzel shapes to prove definitively that all this means is that she delayed her transition in this Better Timeline, that might not actually be better, because Catherine is weird and selfish, maybe. And. Fine. Sure. Okay. Let's accept that for now. Given the game's previous track record, and continuing insistence on using Erica's pretransition name in the credits even in the rerelease, it is meanspirited at best to show her before her transition at all (many real life trans people would be utterly mortified for such a thing to happen to them) and overall just in poor taste and pretty lousy writing at that because it's so unclear what any of this actually means. Since the game has not yet received an official english localization, the context of this scene is to begin with muddled by amateur translators on the internet all with slightly conflicting interpretations of the scene. It's a fucking mess, by and large.

So I would disagree that this is a fake controversy manufactured by those damnable essjaydubyas. Even with the most charitable interpretation possible, it's still just really sketchy and gross. Erica's english voice actress, who seems to be very fond of the character, has been vocal about her dissatisfaction with the new scenes on twitter and has recently come out to say that the localization team is going to try and take some steps to make things less blatantly hateful. Between this and Jennifer Hale's recent tweet about it being time to grab our pitchforks in response to Activision-Blizzard's mass layoffs, I'm starting to think that voice actresses are pretty cool. I mean honestly I always thought that but we're getting off topic. One of the top competitive Catherine players, who was by all accounts really hyped for the release of Full Body, just straight up said on twitter that he was quitting the game because he couldn't support something like that in good conscience. I don't know if he's remained consistent on this position since, but it was a bold statement, to say the least.

Now, whenever an incident like this happens, the inevitable string of More-Progressive-Than-Thou white boys who watched an anime once and thought the bouncing titties were a little much appears to start pontificating about the cause of such untoward elements in media. And it's basically all just a bunch of Orientalist bullshit. Every time. For whatever reason, people still really love to be racist towards Japanese people because it's still sort of socially acceptable when couched in the language of "oh japan!!! ecks dee" and so the neverending procession of softboi neckbeards declared with confidence that Atlus's continual inclusion of Actual Hate Speech towards LGBTQ+ people was the result of the inscrutable Japanese Mind and its Mysterious, Antiquated Culture. Many mentions of the philosophy of Wa, wherein the nail that stands out gets pounded down, and lots of very lovely psuedointellectual claptrap. Evidently, people just seem to think that queer people don't live in Japan, or that they don't fight just as hard as we do for equal rights and protections under the law. They do live there, and they do fight as hard as we do. Obviously. You fucking imbeciles.

In their quest to clearly illustrate their moral and intellectual superiority to the backward, collectivist Asiatic Peoples, these highly reasonable and enlightened manboys forsook a very important logical principle: Occam's Razor. Sure, you could blame jApAnEsE cUlTuRe for Atlus's impropieties and just conveniently ignore all of the fantastic queer media it has produced in recent years like My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness, Horou Muskou, Nier Automata, etc. Or you could go for the simpler and more logically consistent option: Katsura Hashino is a big fat creep. Who is Hashino, you ask? He is the director of every Persona game since 3, as well as Catherine, and all of these games' gross shit and self-contradictory themes of self-acceptance and rebellion against an unust society (unless you're gay, ew) can probably be traced to him and his gaggle of accomplices. In addition to the fact that Atlus games not by Hashino's team tend to just. not have these problems to nearly as large a degree or even at all, Hashino himself has gone on record saying some really kind of hilariously backwards shit. Most infamously, when asked why in Persona 3 literally all of your social links with girls ended up with Hot Makeout Sessions regardless of like. Previously Committed to Relationships. Hashino simply said he couldn't imagine friendships between boys and girls. So that's where his brain is at. Since subsequent games in the series graciously allowed the player the option to not be a Huge Cheating Bastard, one can assume either his moral development has progressed past early puberty or somebody on the team convinced him this wasn't actually a normal thing to think. Given the man's output, I would say it's probably the latter.

It is because of this man's decisions and behavior that so many people are simply unwilling to give Full Body the benefit of the doubt. The game's director is, quite simply, a well known louse, and not in the endearing, Roger Smith way. Once again, it requires far fewer leaps in logic to assume that Hashino is just being a bigoted creep again than to go through some fuckin galaxy brain Kingdom Hearts-esque dot-connecting to justify it as just a LITTLE BIT bigoted not REALLY SUPER bigoted, or simply blaming the whole ordeal on some strange ineffable property of the Japanese Character. He's a gremlin! An overgrown manchild with a warped view of human interaction and society put in charge of games about exploring those concepts for.... reasons. My bet is that his dad knew somebody and then Persona 3 was successful enough for the rest of Atlus to just go "alright fine let him do it while we do mainline games". Unfortunately, Persona became so popular that the mainline games sort of switched places and became side-projects, at least in the eyes of the Western consumer base (which let's be real is the only perspective that any of these Serious Online Commentators even pretend to care about).

So I would once again caution everyone against just assuming that Japan is some sort of quaint anachronistic country of weird gameshows and backwards social mores. This is both a gross oversimplification of an entire culture and the struggles of their own subgroups and minorities and simply a grand display of lacking self-awareness. Like have you fucking seen the guys in the White House? The preposterous media that gets routinely greenlit on prime time TV, theaters, and digitally? Don't make me laugh. The West has no claim to any sort of progressive superiority to anybody else. The white cishet bubble of comfortable middle class affluence might distort what you see of the rest of the world, but believe me: we got problems too. Big ones. Even the presupposed bastions of Demsoc Virtue like Sweden have an awful track record of discrimination and eugenics. But Dazzlyn that's different, you cry! All of these groups and forces don't represent the entirety of Western culture! Yes. Exactly. Oppression is not culturally bound like cuisine or art. It is a nasty, universal thing that worms its way into everything, and it will use any excuse it can find to murder and exploit. It's against Christian values! It represents a genetic defect that must be purged! It's ostentatious and immature! The list goes on. And every time you giggle and go "oh those silly japanese" you're just being another expression of the same vile ideas.

I'm going to relate some of my own personal experiences, because as a noted Big Gay Bitch Who Loves Girls, I feel like maybe I have some authority on the matter? Just a little? Enough that if I make a well reasoned argument it can't be dismissed out of hand? Let's hope. So, what's the gayest game I've ever played? Final Fantasy XIV Online: A Realm Reborn. Look yeah I know I'm talking about it again but come back this is important. Final Fantasy is a series that has had a lot of LGBTQ+ undertones pretty much since forever, and while they have largely been in keeping with the times in terms of tact and representation (the Crossdressing Cloud debacle is a deeply bizarre, uncomfortable sequence in a lot of ways but there's also some genuine Good Gay Shit in 7 like Cloud's surprisingly cute and genuine date with Barret. I think. It's... it's been a while.), by God, it was at least there, and 13 had honest to god Lesbians, Harold in Fang and Vanille. I don't want to say it has pedigree, but the series has dabbled. XIV continues on the tradition with a vibrant world that's actually got a lot of characters and NPCs that are just incidentally there and kind of gay. The adventurer couple that befriended the Tonberries in Wanderer's Palace, a vendor that appeared in the Rising cosplaying as Minfilia at her wife's behest, a miqote lady bathing in the oasis that lets on she wouldn't mind having cute girls stare at her instead of grabby boys, every horny Elezen in Ishgard, Samson and Guydelot (shoutouts to Lulumi Lumi), and probably more that I've missed. More than that, though, is that because FFXIV is an MMO, it is by necessity a social space, and in my experience it has been one that has gone out of its way to be inclusive to everybody, from the GMs handling reports of abusive behavior right up to the top decision makers who made same sex player marriages a thing just immediately on its implementation and letting boys wear the gold saucer bunny costume too (albeit after quite a bit of pleading). The game's got a huge queer community of which I am kind of part of sort of. It's one of the reasons I keep coming back to it. Hell, they've recently partnered with a pride group in Australia to have an FFXIV float in a parade. I usually turn my nose up at such things as meaningless corporate grandstanding, but it does seem to be more meaningful than two boy pastas getting married or rainbow colored oreos because like. Cheesy as it sounds, it's more than just a brand to a lot of people, it's a place, sometimes the only place, they can go to feel safe and accepted in a community. Having official, vocal support from the dev team means genuinely a lot, I think.

Now, there is one quality about this game of which I am speaking that might strike you as noteworthy: it is Japanese. It's made by Japanese people, in Japan, under a Japanese company. A middle aged Japanese man goes up on stage in Gunbreaker cosplay to speak in Japanese about the upcoming expansion, while a meme obsessed gremlin translates for him. It's not perfect, there are problems, etcetera, why do I even need to qualify that in 2019, when everything sucks, god. But it's better than most things. I hope that it serves as an example to people that even in the supposedly regressive countries of the world, queer communities are still living, fighting, and sometimes even being heard, and that the only thing you're enriching by dismissing them wholesale as socially backwards is your own internet penis. And nobody fucking cares about that you simpleton. I expect 5.0 to be gayer than ever before because they're taming up with Yoko Taro to do a Nier themed raid and by the 12 Warrior of Light Dazzyn Reed is going to kiss 2B or an equivalent model right on the robot lips.

#catherine #persona #ffxiv #lgbtq #final fantasy #nier #japan