#i haven't seen any evidence on either side of this

[notjoelmiller]

i cared

MDNI simon "ghost" riley x f!reader summary: three and a half years ago and an ocean away, he tore you apart. now he's turned up at your door. wordcount: 4.1k warnings: smut (fingering), drinking, AFAB reader, possible past dub-con (reader was in a bad mental state and simon knew), simon is a shitty guy in this, talk of hypothetical suicide, talk of past bad mental state (depression), mentioned PTSD, heartbreak on both sides, death mention (MW:III canon) a/n: hey remember when i said that my next fic would be joel and i posted a little insert. that was a lie! instead of working on that (12k word, currently) monster, i wrote something else. if you couldn't tell, i started this before the holidays and then forgot about it.

ao3

The house is much nicer than Simon anticipated. When he saw the New York City address, he had expected you to be crammed into a shitty 6th-floor walk-up. But no, not you. Instead, you have an honest-to-God three-story home with red brick delicately dusted with snow. You certainly couldn’t afford it on the 141 salary. He always suspected you came from means. This just confirms it. It just makes him wonder why the hell you decided to slum it in the services for so long.

It reminds Simon that he shouldn’t be there. You weren't made for that life and left for a reason. Who is he to ruin your peace?

He’s not alone on the street. Well-to-do families of strangers pass by, all watching the masked man observe their neighbor’s home. He can still turn around and leave you to the life you so clearly want.

Something shifts in one of the windows, the curtain being tousled by something. A dog. You got a dog– a golden retriever with sharp eyes and, evidently, an even sharper bark. The canine goes berserk, barking and howling and growling at Simon through the window. It’s Simon’s cue to leave, to leave you be with your semi-rabid, semi-domestic canine.

But before he can move, the curtain shifts again– pulled this time –and you’re there. You squint for a moment, surely wondering what masked freak is standing in your walkway like he owns the damn place. He lets you scrutinize him. It’s now or never. Either you’ll tell him to fuck off once you realize who he is or you’ll call the police on him, though it’s not like they would do anything after he calls Kate.

Instead, you disappear behind the curtain, your loyal steed of a dog following hot on your heels. In a moment’s notice, the large front door, with a gilded knocker and door knob open. You beckon him in. He follows, eyes trailing up and down your body once you’re facing away from him. You’re dressed casually but smartly in a short denim skirt and cashmere sweater. Simon’s never seen you in that getup before, even when going out to the pub.

“Shoes off,” you order, motioning towards the neat shoe rack next to the door. They’re all women's shoes of the same size. Simon’s shoulders relax, and he slips off his boots. It was for the best, he figures. His old boots would have just dragged dirt into your space. He takes off his mask too, hanging it up with his jacket. It’s nothing you haven't seen before.

Simon follows you into the sitting room– at least, that’s what Simon guesses the room is. It’s too neat for your taste, or his memory of what your taste is exactly. The couch and single chair seem untouched, the air still, like Simon’s presence is cutting through some sacred stillness.

You point to a couch and Simon obeys, sitting with his hands on his knees. Your eyes lock with his without granting him any semblance of your thoughts. Simon keeps his gaze soft, neutral. You can scrutinize him all you need.

You sigh, straightening your posture. A smile pulls at your lips. Your smile lines crease deeper than he remembered. Or maybe they always creased that deep.

“Tea?”

***

“He’s quite protective,” you drop two sugar cubes into a cup of tea. The spoon in your hand lets out a delicate tink as it hits the porcelain cup. You hand Simon the teacup, it’s just how he likes it. “Always has his haunches raised, even when he’s not working.”

Ah. A service animal. He’s surprised to not have put that together sooner. Always loyal, the pooch plants himself at your feet, gaze burning into Simon. If looks could kill…

“Your home?” Simon asks. He lifts the teacup to his lips and sips. Simon places the teacup on its saucer impossibly slowly. Simon can’t believe you’d trust him with something so delicate.

“I inherited it.”

A smile creeps on Simon’s face. Teacups and generational wealth. He always knew you were posh. Or whatever Americans call posh.

“You’re on holiday?” You ask.

“‘Tis the season.”

You hum. Your house is the only one on the block without some sort of holiday decor. Simon wonders if it was a pointed decision.

“And you came here.” Why?

He can’t tell you the truth. The fact is that every day since you left– all one thousand two hundred ninety-eight of them since John uttered to his fuming lieutenant that you just weren’t fit to serve any more –he’s ached. One thousand two hundred ninety-eight days of no contact. Of his only proof that you ever existed being a photo and a tear-stained note with one sentence scribbled in ink: John has contact info– emergencies only.

“I wanted to wish you a happy holidays.”

You laugh dryly, though it sends a pang of pain through Simon. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that sound. “Usually people send a card for that.”

You observe Simon with precision, like you never left the force, though the way you scratch Yogi’s belly unconsciously betrays the hardened exterior. It’s a glimpse into the last three and a half years. Of the woman you’ve become– so foreign to Simon. Foreign to your past self. Or not. Maybe this is who you’ve been all along, just hidden behind fatigues. Maybe the woman Simon thought he knew was just a farce. Rich girl playing army for a few years.

Maybe you joined the force just to fuck around for a bit. After a few years, you’d have stories to tell your socialite friends back home. Except, you didn’t get what you wanted, didn’t you? Simon knows well and good that serving, the 141, and him, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, destroyed something in you. 

You tap the porcelain of your teacup. It makes a pleasant ding. “Did John tell you where to find me?”

“No. Well–” Simon tries to tell you the truth without throwing his comrade under the bus. The truth was, John had indulged in one too many drinks at the pub one night and hadn’t locked his quarters. An envelope addressed to you sat front in center on his desk. “Not intentionally.”

It’s a satisfying enough answer. Only a small twinge of annoyance crosses your face before you hum. “This isn’t a guilt thing, right Simon?” You ask, “I didn’t do what I did because of what happened.”

“What we did back then, on the field,” Simon traps you under his gaze. His stare is aggressive, but he hopes it conveys the intense feelings he’s struggling with. “I can’t just leave it. That’s why I came.”

Simon doesn’t dare speak. He doesn’t dare breathe while he watches you process his words. It’s a load of crap, he knows it, and he knows you know it. It’s just a matter of whether or not you want to kick him out.

You smize, teeth coming out to tug at your bottom lip. “Have you ever had New York pizza?”

***

You order two pies, hushing Simon when he insists it’s too much. You were right. Two isn’t enough. Simon scarfs down one pie without coming up for air. It’s delicious. It isn’t until he’s four slices deep that he realizes that you, smiling widely at him, haven’t yet picked up your first.

You’re a gracious host– a natural, really. You perch yourself on the kitchen island, legs crossed in a way that makes your skirt ride so sinfully up your thighs. Simon doesn’t look of course, he’s a gentleman. At least, he is for the first bottle of the ungodly expensive red wine you procure. It’s then that you perch your leg on the counter opposite your spot on the island, right next to Simon. Old habits die hard– especially when inebriated –and Simon places a hand on your leg, massaging the skin of your ankle.

You pay no mind to Simon’s ministrations, though, lost in the domestic bliss and mindless conversations you’ve probably been drowning yourself in for the last few years. You wave the glass of wine wildly about, like you wouldn’t give a damn if it spilled all over your expensive clothes. It seems so natural for you. Simon wonders what you were ever doing with the 141 when posh city living fits you like a second skin.

Simon inches his hand higher up your leg as you speak. He doesn’t get very far, but it’s enough so that he can trace patterns into the soft skin of your thigh. It’s too much, though, because your eyes lock onto his. But you’re not mad. You don’t tell him to stop. Rather, you examine him, and in your eyes Simon sees what looks like mirth.

“I missed this,” Simon says. He cringes at the words leaving his mouth. He’s succumbing to the domestic bliss you’ve created, looking at the past through rose-tinted glasses.

You reach for a third bottle of wine and a corkscrew, furrowing your brow in thought while twisting the screw. “I didn't want to abandon you,” you say. Simon, watching you pop the cork off with ease, almost forgets that you’re talking to him until you lock eyes. He watches you sniff the cork, pause, then sniff it again before topping off your glass. You take a heaping swig, like that Pinot Noir worth more than Simon’s monthly pay is unremarkable. “I left for a reason, you know.”

Oh, Simon certainly knows. The rumors had been inescapable in the first weeks of your absence. All around base every soldier had entertained the question of what happened to the American chick in the 141. Simon had only so many threatening looks to give privates before curiosity got the better of him. He abated the desire to ask John for so long, but there was only so much longing he could handle coupled with the cacophony of voices asking the same thing he desperately wanted to know.

John didn’t flounder when Simon finally came to him, demanding to know why you left.

She was discharged.

Why?

For… mental reasons.

Simon lost his shit in Price’s office that morning. He collapsed onto the couch with a gasp, a hand grasping and squeezing his heart. His breath left him, but Simon was too bloody stupid to understand what the hell was going on until Price was handing him a brown paper bag.

Breathe, son.

“Simon,” you breathe, your saccharine voice the most tantalizing sound Simon has ever heard. You lean forward, your finger tracing the scar parallel to the cut of his jaw. You were there for it, saw the knife slice through his mask and the skin underneath. You bandaged it in the helicopter after, making Simon promise to go to medical afterwards. He promised he would. That night he closed the wound with superglue. “Why did you really come?”

Because you disappeared. Because Price said you were on the brink of becoming a statistic. Because I fucked up. Because I said things I didn’t mean and I thought that it killed you.

“Johnny’s dead,” he lies. But it isn’t a lie. It’s true, sure, Johnny’s been reduced to ashes and scattered in the Scottish highlands. But that isn't why he came.

“I know.” You sniffle. Christ, Simon’s made you cry. Nausea washes over him. A voice in his head screams, fix it, idiot! But emotions were never Simon’s strong suit. Instead, Simon reaches for the bottle and tops off your glass of wine, probably a bit more than he should have, but it seems like you need it.

You mutter a thank you and down a bit more than half of the glass. You come up for air and hiccup. “John told me.”

“Price?” He asks, as though there was any other John. Anything to get you talking rather than crying.

You nod. “He dropped by around Thanksgiving. Asked if I wanted to be there when you all…” You wave your hand in the air, “You know.”

Something ugly festers in his chest. Maybe if he actually went to a therapist, Simon could recognize what it is.

“You said no?” He asks.

“I didn’t think I could.”

Simon nods, holding your gaze in a way that he hopes conveys his sense of understanding.

“How’d it happen?” You croak. Your eyes are glassy, a reminder of the ever-looming threat that you could fall apart again. Simon reminds himself that you wouldn’t be crying if he had just kept his distance.

“Bullet in the head.”

You tense, your head flying to Simon. Your eyes are frantic, searching for something in his face. “He…he…?”

Christ. 

“No, no,” Simon scrambles to get his next words out, “Makarov. It was-” His voice cracks. Unusual. “-was too fast to stop it. To save himself.”

You hum, slumping down like it’s comforting to you that Johnny had his life torn from his arms. Like it’s comforting that Johnny couldn’t go on his own terms, but on the terms of a Russian terrorist.

“You know,” you say like you know he knows, “Johnny’s the reason I got out.”

Simon shifts. Johnny never talked about your discharge, always responding to speculation like he was none the wiser. “He is?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. It’s deep and watery. “Things were…bad one night. He found me. Talked me through the night. Listened to me.” You throw your head back, eyes tracing imaginary patterns on the ceiling.

“He told Price?”

You nod.

“That was after we…”

You nod again. Simon feels sick.

“It had nothing to do with you, Simon.”

“I never thought it did.”

“Then why,” you ask, “did you bring it up?”

Simon shifts. “Thought it was relevant.”

You smile, though your eyes are still lined with tears. “Guilty conscience?”

“Of course not, love,” Simon laughs, hoping you buy it. It works, he thinks. You seem to deflate, slumping a bit. You take some time to think. Simon, panicking at the thought that your self-reflection could send him out the door, pulls out the one trick he has over you.

He lets your legs fall. They bang against the cabinets with a soft umph from your lips. Simon slides off of the counter and stalks your way. You watch him and put up no fight as he slots his wide body between your knees. You don't even complain as the parting of your legs forces your skirt to ride even higher.

Fingers card through Simon’s hair. He hums.

“Why did you do it?” You ask.

Simon tilts his head, and with the wine in his veins and your hand in his hair, the world spins. Your other hand slips under the hem of Simon’s shirt. Warm fingers graze the skin of his stomach and then side, before your hand settles on his back, palm splaying across scarred flesh.

“I–” Simon croaks, “–I felt something for you.”

You snort. Simon’s chest burns and he takes some deep breaths to calm himself. He imagines Price’s paper bag, inflating and crinkling over and over.

“You knew I would leave. That’s it, isn’t it?” You accuse with a gleam in your eyes. “I was in a bad place and was leaving so it didn’t matter if you hit it and quit it.” You laugh. “You got what you wanted without risking your position.”

“That’s not true.”

Your thighs bracket his legs, trapping him against you. Your words curl around your wine-stained tongue. “‘I don’t love you’. Isn’t that what you said Simon?”

“Love–”

You tense, thighs squeezing him like a vice. “Love,” you coo, the imitation of Simon’s long vowels curtles unnaturally on your tongue. “Love, love, love. You know Simon,” you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and lean into the crook of his neck. Your lips brush against his skin as you speak, “You say it, but you’ve never meant it.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon utters, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your skirt.

“You’re not.”

He’s not. He doesn’t argue. He could– should, rather –but he can’t think straight with you this close to him. The scent of your perfume itches the deepest part of his brain. You never wore perfume when on duty, rather, always coated in the aroma of base-issued shampoo and sweat.

“I really cared for you, you know,” you whisper, your lips millimeters from his, them parting when his fingers rub you through the fabric of your underwear.

“I know,” Simon closes the distance, capturing your lips with his.

He pushes you back onto the counter, you let him, lets Simon cage your body like he has the right to. You groan into his mouth when he traps your bottom lip between his teeth and melt when his fingers slip past the hem of your panties, his fingers plunging through the wetness into your cunt.

It’s obscene— the noises you make as he thrusts his fingers into you. With his free hand, Simon pushes your skirt up over your hips so he can watch your cunt squeeze around him.

He slides his thumb up to your clit and you gasp. “Simon,” you moan. He nearly stops. It’s been years since he’s heard you say his name, let alone moan it. Fuck, Simon can’t help but grind his cock against the island counter, groaning.

It doesn’t take much to work you into an orgasm. Before he knows it, your moans become softer, higher pitched, and you’re coming apart, clenching hard on Simon’s fingers.

He works you through your orgasm, whispering praise into your ears. Simon gives you no time before pouncing, fisting his hands in your hair and devouring you. You wiggle underneath his weight, uttering something, but the words are lost into Simon’s mouth. He pulls away, his eyes meeting your expectant ones.

“What?”

“Upstairs,” you say, chest heaving. “My room is upstairs.”

***

Simon wakes before dawn. He’s lying on top of you, your strong breath rocking him up and down. Your limbs are impossibly tangled. He’s reminded of an identical morning, years ago, of what he did then, and what that choice led him to. But that was years ago. You were different then, broken. How was he supposed to know that his choice would make you shatter?

He untangles himself slowly. It feels like the process takes hours, though the sun fails to make an appearance by the time he slips out of bed. The clock reads four in the morning. That explains it. It also explains the way the room around him is spinning slightly. He’s still drunk– or at least buzzed –from the night before.

His pants are an easy find, discarded by the door. His shirt though… Simon spins around the room, eyes glazing over the space. He tries not to take anything in too deeply, too personal for this morning.

He spots his shirt on your vanity. Simon yanks it off, but something hard and heavy comes with it. It nearly drops to the floor, but Simon catches it before it can hit and wake you up.

It’s a perfume bottle, heavy and half-filled. Simon can’t suppress the urge of his half-drunk brain to sniff it. The scent— the scent of you —explodes in his synapses. He tosses a glance over his shoulder, ensuring you’re still asleep, before pocketing the bottle.

The dog follows Simon as he walks through the house. Luckily, as he slips on his shoes, the dog disappears into the rest of the house.

Simon lingers with a hand wrapped around the door knob. It warms under his touch.

“Are we doing this again?”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, “I ‘ave to.” Simon stays facing the door, though he doesn’t make a move to turn around. He knows how he must look to you, too cowardly to face you. He’s reminded of the last time he spent the night with you. He got out scot-free. What would have happened if you found him then? Simon can’t say for certain whether or not he would have left then, if you called out for him in the same delicate voice.

“Stay.”

“What?”

“In New York,” you say, voice dry with sleep. “With me. Get out of the SAS, the 141, all that bullshit.”

“‘S not that easy.”

“It is. I left. You can leave. Or you can stay and end up like Johnny–”

“What do you know about Johnny,’ Simon growls, turning on his heels. He straightens his spine, puffing his chest up like you’re a threat. Your dog buys it, growling and worming himself between you and Simon. You don't take the bait though. You honest to God laugh in Simon’s face.

“I know enough.” You step closer to Simon. The pooch gets the memo, clearing the way for you. Simon almost does the same, he wants to. Some instinctual part of his brain needs to cave to you. “You mean something, Simon,” you flick your eyebrows up, letting them drop immediately. It feels like a challenge, like you were asking Simon the silent question. Do you matter? 

“You’re more than a soldier– more than a body on a field, waiting to drop.” There are tears in your eyes. You don't let them fall. Simon hopes you’ve finally realized that he isn’t worth your heartbreak. He’s never been, but at least your realization would stop his cruel cycle of him chewing you up and spitting you right back out.

“Come to New York, Simon, please. There– there’s a butcher shop up the block, they’re always looking for help. You said you used to do that stuff, right?”

Fucking hell. He had said it to you, years ago after a mission. Simon went drink for drink with Johnny and Gaz and got positively wasted. It was the night he first set his sight on you, when your tenderness sunk its claws into his heart and refused to let go. You didn’t know then what it would lead to. Simon did. Every love Simon had wilted in his claws. Why would you be different?

“Come here,” you plead, “Take the job with them. I can help you find an apartment or you can live with me but–” You grab Simon’s shoulders, tugging. It isn’t strong enough to turn him around, but he does. Your cheeks are wet and eyes glassy as you stare up at him. “Simon, it’s too late for us, but don’t let it be too late for you.”

Simon lifts his hand to your cheek, fingers grazing the plump skin. It slides to the back of your head and tugs– yanks you into his embrace as he crashes your lips against his own. The morning makes you soft though, as Simon nips your lips with his teeth, you melt, softening and slowing your movements.

It’s you that pulls away first, staring at Simon. You let him swipe his finger across your cheek, caressing you.

“Please,” you beg, kissing the palm of his hand.

Simon lets his hand fall from you. It sits achingly cold at his side.

It would be cowardly to leave you without a goodbye after forcing himself back into your life, even if it was for one night. Simon considers himself to be many things, but never a coward. Yet, standing in front of you, staring into your expectant eyes, words don’t come easy.

You step towards him. Simon steps back. The door knob presses into his back. His heart is pounding, the blood in his eyes deafening him. Your scent wafts his way, your perfume. The one whose bottle he knocked over, nearly let slip through his fingers and shatter. The one which you never got to wear in the 141. The one weighing down his back pocket.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Simon says.

He doesn’t look back. Not when you gasp his name. Not when he opens the door. Not when he walks down the snowy street.

Price and Gaz will ask about his holiday. They’re kind like that. In the cab to the airport, passing the bottle of perfume between his hands, Simon considers his answer. Single word answers are his forté, but won’t suffice with the prying curiosities of his captain and sergeant.

The answer comes to him when he sniffs the perfume once more.

In the coming week, when Gaz claps him on the back, he will ask, “How was the holiday, Ghost?”

Simon will answer, “I had a meal with an old friend.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #ghost x female reader

[milaeth]

୨୧┊ 𝐈𝐈. 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇. ( lando norris )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part two ∿ part one

✧.* pairings ─ lando norris x model! piastri! reader

✧.* genre ─ one-shot ⨾ slight angst & fluff

✧.* summary ─ in which Lando has to deal with the consequences of his indirect confession from a few weeks ago, and then finds out that you seem to have a boyfriend. after a crash with your brother and an annoying interaction with your boyfriend, frustration gets ahold of him and he ends up angrily confessing to you…

✧.* warnings ─ mention of crash, jealousy

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ i got really lazy towards the end lmao but i still hope you guys enjoy <3

it's been weeks since the lie detector challenge where Lando confessed his crush on a mysterious girl, you, and he can't deny that he feels a tinge of regret. the aftermath has been overwhelming. his inbox has been flooded with messages from curious fans asking who his crush is. his friends haven't let him live it down either, teasing him relentlessly. it reached a point where he was even trending on twitter for hours, and the entire formula one community went wild. he’s been avoiding twitter and the comments section of his instagram posts ever since.

he has come across various wild fan theories, some of which are uncomfortably close to the truth. at one point, he stumbled across tweets that suggested you might be his secret crush. they even provided "evidence" in the form of photos capturing moments where he couldn't hide his interest, gazing at you as if you were the stars, no, the center of his entire universe. the sight of those tweets made him feel sick to his stomach. he didn't even realize there were photos of him talking to you, let alone ones that exposed his feelings so blatantly.

he’s incredibly grateful for these two weeks without any races, not having to face you and constantly worrying that you might have seen those tweets. the fear of your potential reaction has been haunting him throughout this entire period. would you feel flattered? no, that’s highly unlikely. you would most likely feel embarrassed. Lando has come across several pictures on Instagram where fans had taken photos of you and some random guy, and it appears that you two are quite close. he has found himself staring at those pictures for minutes on end, his eyes always drawn to the guy's arm, which seems to be permanently wrapped around your waist in those snapshots.

is he jealous? absolutely.

does he have a right to be? absolutely not.

but that doesn't stop him from constantly overthinking. is that blond man in the photos your boyfriend? you've never mentioned him, nor has Lando ever seen him by your side at the paddock before.

Lando lets out a heavy sigh, feeling a mix of anxiety and embarrassment. the last thing he wants to think about is Oscar, his teammate and your brother. the mere thought of Oscar accidentally stumbling upon those fan theories about you being Lando's crush makes him cringe inwardly. it would be beyond embarrassing for Oscar to find out through twitter that his own sister is Lando's crush, especially considering that Oscar had been encouraging him to confess his feelings.

the world of racing can be a whirlwind of emotions and drama, and Lando never expected his personal life to become such a public spectacle. the pressure to live up to fan expectations and media attention can be overwhelming. Lando wishes he could turn back time and undo the confession to save himself and Oscar from this potentially awkward situation.

but for now, all he can do is hope that Oscar hasn't stumbled upon those fan theories or the photos. the embarrassment and tension that would follow such a discovery is the last thing Lando wants to experience. he prays that this situation can somehow be resolved without straining his relationship with Oscar or, more importantly, with you.

but it seems impossible to avoid the strain on their relationship when Lando loses control during the race in austria and accidentally crashes into Oscar's car, causing a double dnf for both of them. fortunately, neither of them is physically injured, but the emotional toll weighs heavily on Lando. as he steps out of his wrecked car, he sees Oscar walking right past him with a tight smile his way. it feels like a punch in the gut, as guilt and anger wash over him like an unstoppable wave.

he can't help but feel ashamed of his stupid mistake, and the weight of it all is magnified when he sees you burst into the room after the interviews and immediately lock Oscar in a worried embrace. the sight of your worried and anxious expression hits Lando hard. it’s a painful reminder that he’s the one who caused this turmoil. he can only watch as you anxiously inquire about Oscar's well-being, and each time Oscar reassures you, telling you that he’s fine.

Lando feels a pang of stupidity as he longs for the day when you will seek comfort in his arms.

a faint smile creeps onto Lando's face as your gaze briefly meets his, and he stands there, seemingly pathetic and alone beside you both. Lando watches you break away from Oscar's embrace, concern painting itself on your features. it's as if you can sense his inner turmoil, even from a distance. he wishes he could find comfort in your arms, but the reality of the situation keeps him trapped in his own self-blame. how could he expect anything else when he is the one who caused this unfortunate turn of events? with a heavy heart, Lando takes a deep breath and tries to regain his composure.

"are you okay?" you ask hesitantly as you try to gauge Lando's well-being. you don't want to seem rude, but you sense that something is wrong. Lando, however, only manages a weak nod and is unable to return your gaze. awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck and replies, "yeah, i'm fine."

but deep down, you both know that's not the truth. the tension in the air is palpable, and Lando's hollow assurances only underscore his underlying turmoil. the weight of guilt, regret, and unspoken emotion weighs heavily on him, and it's obvious he's struggling with it.

as the seconds pass, the unspoken words hang in the air, their presence undeniable. at this vulnerable moment, a part of you longs to reach out to Lando, to be there for him, and to create a space where he can share his problems. the genuine concern in your eyes reflects the care you have for him, and is a silent invitation for him to overcome his defenses and confide in you.

the truth is, however, that the two of you don't know each other well, exchanging only fleeting glances and making small talk from time to time. yet despite the limited interactions, there has always been an inexplicable attraction between you, an invisible thread that seems to bind your hearts.

the moment is abruptly interrupted as the door to the room swings open with a loud bang. Lando's eyes snap to the source of the noise, widening in surprise when he sees the blond guy from the photos entering the room. the guy has a smug grin on his face as he casually walks over to you, trying to lean towards you but you take a step to the side. Lando's stomach churns, and a feeling of nausea washes over him.

his gaze shifts from the already annoying guest to your expression, noticing your discomfort. Before he can even process the situation, the blond guy speaks up again, his tone dripping with arrogance. "that move you pulled back there was really risky, buddy. i thought you were a professional. be careful, or i'll end up taking your seat." the guy's laughter grates on Lando's nerves, and he clenches his teeth, unable to comprehend why you would be with such a jerk. the use of the word "buddy" only intensifies his disdain.

Lando has had enough. all he wants is to escape this unpleasant encounter, forget about this terrible day, and put the image of you with your obnoxious boyfriend out of his mind.

"well, since you seem so confident about replacing me, you should know that taking risks is an inherent part of racing, right?" Lando raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response that doesn’t come. "exactly. there are multiple reasons why i'm the one sitting in the car, not you, buddy."

his voice carries a sharp edge, perfectly matching the forced smile plastered on his face as he brushes past the guy, giving his shoulder a patronizing pat. without saying another word, Lando storms out of the room and, seconds later, out of the McLaren facility. as he steps outside, he curses under his breath. it’s raining and he doesn’t have an umbrella with him. this day can't possibly get any worse, can it?

suddenly, a voice interrupts his frustrated thoughts. "do you need a helping hand?" you're standing there, slightly out of breath, holding an umbrella. it's evident that you must have run after him, but why? Lando stammers, caught off guard by your unexpected appearance and bewildered by the fact that you followed him. "i... no, it's fine." the truth is, it's far from fine, but he's too upset and overwhelmed by everything happening around him to be in your presence right now.

you smile softly, seeing through Lando's attempt to brush off his emotions. "stop lying, i know it's not fine," you assert gently. you find yourself unsure of how to handle an upset Lando since you've never seen him like this before. it feels like he's on the verge of exploding at any moment. "come on, don't be so stubborn. you don't want to get sick, do you? i can walk you to your car with my umbrella protecting the both of us."

Lando scoffs, lightly shaking his head. "i'll pass. your boyfriend is probably waiting for you." he cringes inwardly at the bitterness and extreme jealousy that seeps into his words. there's a brief moment of silence, only the sound of rain filling the air. "why are you jealous?" you ask, genuinely curious. Lando immediately turns red, feeling caught off guard. "tch, i'm not jealous. and now, leave me be. i want to be alone after what happened."

"absolutely not. I'm helping you to your car, and now shut up," you insist firmly, your voice displaying determination. Lando groans, eventually giving in after a few seconds spent in the cold rain. you two walk closely together, somehow managing to fit under your small umbrella. there's silence for a few seconds before you break it again. "why are you jealous?"

Lando rolls his eyes, feeling overwhelmed and increasingly frustrated with the situation, thanks to your lovely boyfriend. "i'm not jealous! i'm just so confused—like, why him!?" he can feel his control slipping away, the frustration and jealousy pouring out along with the rain.

"what do you mean, 'why him'?"

"are you fucking kidding me?!" Lando laughs dryly, shaking his head. "he's an asshole. why would you be with someone like him when you could literally have anyone in the entire world?! i mean, look at you! you deserve so much better than him!"

Lando gets carried away, his voice growing louder and louder as he vents his pent-up frustration and jealousy. as you continue walking towards his car, you remain silent, listening attentively. you realize that he's finally opening up, and it's clear that this is what he needs to do to feel better. so you let him get it all out.

"why do you care so much?" you finally ask, genuinely surprised by the intensity of his emotions, your cheeks reddening. Lando stops in his tracks, searching for the right words as he gazes down at you. "are you serious? why? because... because i like you, i really like you. i've wanted to tell you in a better way, well, that was until i found out that you have this idiot as your boyfriend!"

your mouth hangs open, and you can only stare at him, speechless. "he," you finally manage to say, "he isn't my boyfriend, not anymore." you confess, and now it's Lando's turn to have his mouth hang open.

"but... but i saw so many pictures of you two being together," his voice trails off as realization dawns on him. that blond guy must be the annoying ex that Oscar always complains about, the one who wouldn't leave you alone. "those are most likely old pictures," you give him a small smile. "he's my ex."

"but why was he here, then?" Lando asks, perplexed. you shrug. "i don't know. he probably knew i would come and watch the race. he's still not over me and often tries to win me back, which tends to get really awkward." Lando's mouth forms a small 'o'.

there's a brief pause, and then you break the silence. "so, you like me, huh?" you ask, a playful smirk forming on your face. Lando's cheeks flush, and he scratches the back of his head while looking away, a bashful smile on his lips. "well, yeah, i like you."

a mischievous glint sparkles in your eyes as you continue teasing him. "so, i'm the secret crush you talked about in the recent McLaren video?" you ask, accompanied by a playful wink. you already know the answer, but you can't help but revel in the moment. Lando feels himself relaxing, and he lets out a laugh. "yes, you are," he admits with a genuine smile.

as you resume walking, Lando's car now just a few meters away, you can't resist playfully prodding him further. "so, are you gonna ask me out or something?" you inquire, grinning from ear to ear. Lando chuckles in response. "if you want me to." a chuckle escapes you as you confess, "oh, i've wanted that for months now." Lando's eyebrows raise in surprise. "really?" he asks, seeking confirmation, and you nod, your smile growing wider. there's a brief moment of contemplation before he speaks again, "your brother is gonna kill me." both of you exchange grins, knowing the potential repercussions. you laugh heartily and respond, "he's gonna survive."

∿ people who asked for part two ─ @alilstressyandlotdepressy @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @dakotali @ophcelia @be-your-coffee-pot @81astri @readinsilenceplease

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

© milaeth | 2023

#·˚ ༘ ☕️ — mily’s writings ! #lando norris #lando norris imagines #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris oneshot #lando norris drabble #f1 fanfic #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 driver imagines #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula one x y/n #x reader

[inconveniently-discorporated]

Season 2 thoughts on character growth, and whether there was any...

I respectfully disagree with some of the viewpoints that the choices made at the end of s2 brought the characters right back to where they were, or that it undid all the growth they went through during s1.

The MAIN reason I say that, is this:

The final scene mirrors the bandstand scene SO much.

Crowley is asking them to run away together, and Aziraphale is saying they can't. Or, he won't.

Crowley is not tied to either side, he is tied to "us". Aziraphale is tied to Heaven.

But it's not the SAME argument. At the bandstand, Aziraphale is pushing Crowley away. Crowley WON'T and CAN'T join him in Heaven, but Aziraphale cannot find it within him to leave. Heaven is the source of good! It is godly! It is everything just and right in the world! He has to do a lot of gaslighting to himself to believe that, but that's where he's coming from.

He's telling Crowley it's over, they're not on the same side, they can't be together.

The argument in the bookshop is very, very similar, but fundamentally different.

This time, they are both screaming their love for one another. They are not TRYING to push the other away, they are both pulling on opposite ends of the rope trying to pull the other one back to them.

Aziraphale still has not let go of Heaven, but this time he makes it clear: Heaven is BROKEN. Heaven SHOULD be all of those things that Aziraphale thought it was, but it isn't. But maybe he could fix it. And he doesn't want to fix it alone -- he WANTS Crowley, he NEEDS Crowley.

In season 1, Aziraphale's mindset was, "I just have to talk to the right people, and THEY will fix everything."

In season 2, Aziraphale's mindset is, "There are no right people, we have to BE the right people. I can fix Crowley, and then WE can fix everything and Crowley and I could be happy together."

That's not to say there aren't things that have stayed the same, things that they haven't learned yet and still need to.

I think one of the things that Aziraphale doesn't understand yet though -- and one thing that he STILL needs to realize -- is that the problem isn't in the labels. One thing that has remained the same is that Aziraphale still sees them as an angel and a demon, and if only he could "fix" this for Crowley, everything would be better, all of that demonic trauma will go away, and Crowley can be the joyous angel he was.

Crowley's side of the argument is very similar, but also different. He hears everything Aziraphale has to say about Heaven, and still opens up to him. He still pours his heart out about his feelings and how they should be together. He doesn't put the walls up until the very end, and even then, even then -- he doesn't just leave immediately like he did before. He kisses Aziraphale, he shows him just what exactly is on the line, and then he watches Aziraphale go.

He isn't going to let Aziraphale just make this decision without having to look him in the face as he does it. He stands by the Bentley, and makes it clear that HE is not the one walking away this time -- Aziraphale is. He can't be in the bookshop anymore -- and what kind of sanctuary is it now anyway -- but he hasn't gone anywhere.

What he still doesn't understand is Aziraphale's point of view. He understands his own point of view, having presumably seen a high-level view of Heaven, one in which he was asked to create, but never told "oh no not like that" until it was too late. Aziraphale was evidently told that. From the very beginning, Aziraphale understands that one mustn't ask questions, he understands that it is not HIS position to create.

Crowley says that extreme sanctions were something they just joked about to scare the cherubs. He has access to high-level material. He clearly has seen Heaven from a privileged vantage point, and he fell from that high place. Aziraphale's demeanor tells me his position was closer to Muriel's -- respect the higher authorities. What Heaven is now, was what Heaven has ALWAYS been for Aziraphale.

Heaven is flawed to Aziraphale, but as a whole it is not that different from the Heaven that was, when Crowley was happy there. I don't think that Crowley understands why Aziraphale doesn't understand why he can never go back. I don't think he understands why Aziraphale can't see that it isn't just the fall that hurt him, because Aziraphale doesn't feel the enormity of what Crowley lost.

What is interesting is that now Aziraphale will get to see, when he's "in charge". I think that season 3 will see that growth in both of them -- I think Aziraphale will finally understand that perspective.

And I could also see that maybe Aziraphale will find a way to make a difference. Maybe it irrevocably changes Heaven and Hell forever. Either way, I bet it will take both of their perspectives together to make it work, and both of their perspectives will change for the better so they can finally let go of everything that happened and finally be fully free together.

#good omens #gos2 spoilers #good omens meta #ineffable husbands

[atxxzist]

sweetest lies | c.s (01)

prologue // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warning: nothing i can think of

you can't help but to be annoyed as you shove through the crowd, the blasting music and odors of party people something you were once familiar with, but now only serving as a reminder of the person you used to be.

you weren't gonna come, initially--stuck at your job until the evening and your boss incredibly hard to convince, having made sure to tell yunho beforehand there was a chance you weren't gonna make it.

but afterall, it is yunho, and you were most likely gonna do anything, promising your boss you'll work overtime tomorrow if you have to, if he just let you off this once.

it was the fastest you ever got ready, your hair barely done, makeups too light for your liking, and dress thrown on sloppily, but you still look good.

you know you still do by the amount of eyes and heads hurled your direction while you attempt to free from the overwhelming crowd, relieved to finally find a space where you can breathe even for a second.

you turn and sneak glances past many strangers' heads, hoping to catch at least someone you recognize and knows about yunho's whereabouts, considering the text you sent him fifteen minutes ago went completely unanswered.

something you always hated about parties, whether when you were still into them or not, was that you didn't know more than half of the people that showed up, and this one is no exception--despite being held by yunho at one of the smaller estates owned by his family, everyone either looks like rich kids living a double life or three years younger than you.

yunho usually isn't one for parties either, but he needed something different; something new from dinners and sweet smiles with his parents and people twice his age.

"fancy seeing you here," a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.

"thought you got too good for this kind of setting."

the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don't bother to hide it.

"i'm not here to get high or whatever, i'm here for yunho."

"of course you are," he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you're just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.

you cross your arms, leaning to one side to show the impatience.

"so it will be nice if you just tell me where he is," you add.

hongjoong shrugs, taking a sip of his drink nonchalantly, speaking in a dull tone, "haven't seen or heard of him since i got here."

"why the hell do i even bother," you mutter under your breath, about to bring the search somewhere else when he speaks up again.

"why don't you ask the one person that would actually know where he is? or are you too good for that, too?"

you squint, confused, until he nods his head another direction and you follow, landing right into the view of the kitchen and to someone you know all too well just from the back.

his hands on some poor girl's waist and lips running along with hers as her grip tightened at his disheveled hair, his body pressing her forward onto the counter, the both of them making out like there won't be a tomorrow.

"no thanks," you dismiss, managing to reframe from an eyeroll, pushing past hongjoong but not before you catch the smirk on him.

you're only here for one thing, and the fact the place's already starting to become suffocating due to hongjoong's jabs alone, a run-in with san will just be one more reason to leave.

you persist through the smell of cigarettes lingering the hallways, couples making out, and people who's entirely not in their right minds, for the next ten minutes--by the time you realize yunho's still yet to reply, you're already upstairs and so sure he won't be in any of these bedrooms as well.

you love yunho, you really do. your heart full of respect and admiration for him, but something that always bothered you is his bouts of silence.

periodic times where he'd just disappear and wouldn't tell you the reasons why, except some quick assurances about the pointless need to worry about it.

you're sure sooner or later, he will make an appearance and you'll both go through the routine all over again, but it's getting a tad ridiculous having to look for him at his own party.

where exactly would a sophisticated and proper man like yunho who doesn't engage in any of the crazy party shenanigans be at?

not downstairs where mostly everyone is, neither is he in the hallways or any of the rooms upstairs, which leads you to the last option of having to look outside in the late november weather that pierces your skin, making you flinch from the cold breeze.

you're more so agitated by the uncomfortableness, the fit you have on not suited for the season at all because you thought you'd be spending most of the time in the house.

so busy being annoyed and bothered, you don't even comprehend it's the backyard you've found way to with a swingset at the corner, your attention finally pulled from the shivering at the sweet sounding feminine laughter.

nothing could've prepared you for what you're about to see.

your face drops immediately at the sight of yunho, who's able to habitually bring a smile out, but your expression stays cold, watching as the man you dedicated almost your entire life to loving, tuck a strand of hair behind someone else's ear, the giggle from her almost too familiar, you don't even want to believe it.

"yunho?" you let out, his name slipping before you can even register, your voice full of hurt and disbelief.

he shoots to the direction of the call, the lovesick expression turning into all kinds of panic and horror, realizing you've been standing there and probably saw everything.

everything he's been hiding, and things that if you had just given him a bit more time, he would've told you... eventually.

"what the fuck?" you continue, unable to read your own tone if it is said out of pain or anger, but you just know that whatever you're feeling right now is a mixture of both.

and just when you think it can't get any worse, your suspicion of the voice and frame turns out to be right as your sister turns head your direction, and if that's guilt in her eyes, you don't believe it.

she knows about your feelings for yunho, and if there's anything she shouldn't touch or mess with (amongst other things she already did), is getting inbetween you and him. yet, she still did.

still chose to get close to him and do whatever the fuck they just did right now.

it feels like every other instances where you lost to her, whether when your parents would flaunt her or when anyone else would ignore you in favor of her.

you wish to say the loss is new, but the only thing different about it is that it's yunho this time.

"y/n, i--"

"--can explain?" you finish for him, one eyebrow raised and anticipating of what kind of lies he'll come up with on the spot. "because it looks like you ignored me all this time because you were too busy with my own sister."

he opens his mouth to say something, but you already very clearly saw the scene for what it is, now backed against a wall with nothing left but the truth to say.

truth he doesn't get to tell because you're already turning your back on them with an unbelievable sigh, yunho knowing how you are and the tendency you have to avoid your problems. run from them and mask them under the pretense of something else.

you want him to come after you, apologize and show even the smallest of guilt that it was a mistake. choosing your sister was a mistake and something he would never do, especially because he knows how you feel about her.

but he doesn't. the only footsteps out in the night are yours heading back inside, and at the small call of his name by your sister, it breaks your heart how comfortable and perfect it sounds coming from her.

once again, you lost.

you can count on two fingers the crushes you've developed over your lifetime, the count stopping shortly when yunho came along--someone who's too perfect in every way, you wonder how someone else is gonna ever beat him, because it truly feels like you'll never get over him.

you were used to disappointment and regrets, but you've never experienced a heartbreak before. that soul crushing feeling almost like grief, going through all the stages of denial and anger, unfortunately still yet to come to acceptance.

that all this time, yunho is seeing your sister behind your back.

you can't even begin to think of how it happened, or the extents they went to in order to keep it from you.

that yunho of all people, the one person you thought could never hurt you, is the one causing you to go through the most painful betrayal right now.

because he knows you and knows that some of your biggest insecurities has to do with your sister.

after running off with yunho nowhere in the line of sight behind you, you wind up at a nearby bar, attempting to drown your sorrow the only way you knew how... by indulging in old addiction and habits.

though you've quit smoking, alcohol is still something you struggle trying to keep away from, a drink way too easier to give into, lying to yourself that it'd be just a few sips until suddenly, you're hazed in the mind and can barely recall where you're at.

but this time, you don't care how much you're drinking as long as it's numbing the ache in your heart.

the bartender's refusing to give any more given your state--head buried inside your arms as you groan into the bar counter with a few passersby lasering you weird looks from behind.

it's probably not very smart, out alone and mind not in the greatest state in such an environment where you could most likely get taken advantage of, so you stay somewhat alerted for that.

just in case anyone tries anything innapropriate, because you know all the tricks by now.

so when you feel a presence slowly taking up the space next to you, the plop as they sit down on the bar stool, your fight or flight is activated, picking your head up expecting to tell another guy to fuck off, only for your jaw to drop slightly at who it is.

"san?" you question, eyes squinting at the same time because you can't think of any reasons why he of all people is here.

if he saw what happened back there, then he's only here to make fun of you for it. insult you and take jabs because it's what he's best at.

san can't possibly give a shit about you.

"yeah?" he answers as he just stares you down, almost like he takes pity on your situation.

"why the fuck are you here? don't tell me you followed me."

"i followed you because i knew you'd do something stupid like this," he says, taking a $100 dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it toward the bartender because you most likely haven't paid. "now get up."

his command is met by a series of protests, your other hand quickly trying to release the hold he has on your arm attempting to get your butt off the seat, but you're unfortunately not as stubborn and snappy under the influence, unable to hold your ground against a sober san.

your entire body falls forward immediately when on two feet, san catching you with his arms, pressing you against his chest as a smirk creeps onto the corner of his lips.

he knows where the lack of reaction is coming from, but he still can't help but to be smug, seeing you so powerless and weak when you were usually the opposite, opting for yelling about how you want nothing to do with him the normal.

he guides you by the small of your back, fingers on your bare skin that ignites something in him, and trying to exit the bar against your stubborn feet that won't move due to the sleepy state you've somewhat slipped into along the way.

"give me your car key," he says once at the parking lot, watching as you whine groggily while one of your hands dig at your purse in search for the key, passing it to him and almost dropping it in the process.

everything after that is a blur, more so than what already is, only recalling the bits of san settling you onto the passenger seat.

you wake up with a throbbing headache, able to tell right away it's from the drinks you had last night. but other than that, you can't remember anything.

how you got here and where you're at, the place completely unfamiliar, you don't think you've ever been here before.

"oh, good. you're awake."

but the recognizable voice snaps you to his figure sitting at a desk just right beside the bed and on his laptop. it's then that some recollection starts flooding back, all the overwhelming emotions trying to overtake each other.

hurt, betrayal, confusion, and anger.

yunho and your sister for the first half, and san for the other because you can slightly recall speaking to him at the bar before he did whatever he did.

"where the hell am i?" you ask, sitting up to glare at him and checking the room out once more. you suppose it's quite tidy and nice.

your outfit is the same but just slightly washed out and wrinkly, and if you had a mirror, you can already picture the smeared mascara running under your eyelashes.

"my condo," he replies casually, eyes refusing to move from the laptop.

a quick silence passes before a horrible thought comes over, blurting it out the instant it sinks on you.

"did we--"

but the sheer horror in your voice has san turning so fast just to cut you off with a "no", following by a deep, sarcastic chuckle.

"seriously, y/n. what kind of monster do you think i am?"

well, excuse you for assuming because he's given you every reasons to. every single encounter and run-ins, he never missed the chance to throw stupid innuendos about getting in bed with you.

"whatever," you dismiss, yanking the blanket off and scooting to the edge of the bed, making san raise an eyebrow in return.

"where are you going?"

"leaving," you hiss, at the same time pushing your feet into the heels that are found sprawled all over the floor and stealing a quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand that brings out a sigh.

"i'm already late for work and everything seems to be going to shit, so i don't need any of this right now."

san scoffs and you try to not let it bother you, finishing up the last bits of your heels before standing up, so close to leaving the room when he starts talking again.

"a thank you would be nice, you know."

he says it so casually but you know that he's hidden a smirk and satisfaction under all the pretense because he loves it when he has even the smallest of hold over you--whether when he's right or succeeded in convincing you to feel indebted.

"i didn't ask for you to take me home," you reply, arms crossed and turning around, something sharp and meaning to hurt in your delivery.

his attention is no longer on the screen of his laptop and has shifted to you completely, figure walking up to peer down with a look that might intimidate you if this isn't a scene that's already happened one too many times between the both of you.

"if i didn't, something could've happened to you. you were shitface drunk."

you smirk before blowing off the concern with a scoff.

"well maybe i prefer the alternative than to have come home with you."

during university days, all of yours and san's friends were so sure that all the squabbling and jabs at one another was just an outlet to release all the suppressed sexual tension.

though you will admit he's attractive--a fact you've seen him use to his advantage many times, there was simply nothing more to it other than the fact you couldn't stand him and still can't.

"ridiculous," he huffs under his breath, a rare instance of annoyance crossing his expression.

he enjoys bantering with you to some extent, often times intrigued by the outrageous things you'd say because it gets him off in some weird, messed up way.

but it's not fun anymore when you take it too seriously, and especially when he does something genuinely (which he doesn't often) and it still doesn't seem to faze you.

as if you've already built an image of him and refuses to change it no matter the depth he goes to--often times leading to a cycle, because he can get impatient and frustrated.

instead of snarking back, your voice actually drops to a much deliberate tone, the words not wanting to spill because it's still all too painful, but it does.

"if you followed me yesterday, then you most likely already knew what happened at the party and why i ended up at the bar. so if you will just let me leave in peace."

considering you promised your boss to make up for the time yesterday and still haven't even shown almost an hour into the shift, you'll be lucky if he lets you off with a warning.

but it doesn't look like san takes pity on your situation, something shifting in him as he stares at you with a gaze that makes you just slightly nervous.

he clears his throat.

"let me ask you something seriously," he says, taking a step forward that makes you swallow a lump. "did you actually believed that this entire time, yunho wasn't seeing anyone?" he ends it with a head tilt that conjures the lump back.

because you did. the entire time, you really fucking believed he wasn't seeing anyone.

"did you not ever questioned all the times he'd disappear or make excuses? and did you ever stop to think about the improbability that someone of his age never had any interactions with other women?"

the sinking realization is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, and if you thought seeing yunho with your sister back then was awful, this pain can almost kill you.

all this time, you were nothing but foolish and delusional.

san can see both the stages of denial and anger in your face, some tears threatening to get out but you manage to hold them back in. you don't like crying because the last thing you want to be seen as is weak. san knows that.

"if he was fucking other people, then why couldn't he just tell me himself?"

"because he didn't want to hurt you," he unveils, much to your stunned reaction. "he knew you'd lash out and act exactly the way you did when you saw them back at the party."

you can only blink in confusion, like all the information are new and unbelievable. the fact yunho really thought so low of you, one you're not sure how to feel.

but a fact more surprising and intriguing than that, is that the entire time... san knew.

"so you knew about him and my sister and whoever fuck else, but still chose to keep it from me? lie to my face and play along with your brother?"

“you followed me?”

“of course. i heard the conversation at the table. you know, if you’re going to get married off to my brother soon, we might as well get it over with; go into one of these rooms. we might not get the chance ever again. i’ll make it quick, and this will just be between you and me.”

san retracts from the sudden accusation that now all of a sudden, he's become the main culprit. he can't help but to feel some sort of way about it, opting for speaking his mind although it often ends up in destruction.

"it's not like we were ever on good terms and you would've listened to me. but i also don't owe you anything because you never see me in a good light anyways."

he always find himself being hot and cold with you. one second filled with regrets for the terrible things he'd say, then the next, he's spewing some more, and you just so happen to be the only other person just as horrible to say even worse things in return.

"but if i knew your girlfriend was fucking someone else behind your back, i sure would've told you," you spit, eyebrows pinched in the whole time.

"it's not my fault you couldn't get the hint that if yunho actually wanted to ask you out, he would've a long time ago."

san regrets it as soon as he finishes the sentence, but it consumes him completely when the anger on you is no longer but trails of hurt and sadness.

"i--"

"--fuck. you," you cut him off, not sparing another second before you're already out the door.

and if san thinks he saw what looks like a tear, he convinces himself it isn't, because you won't cry in front of him, and you definitely won't cry because of a comment he made.

but he did try to make things right the best he knew how; even then, it's never good enough in your eye.

next // series m.list

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cookiechristie @softie00 @crimson-mia @hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa @kkayfan @curryramyeon @justineasian @mikaymee @chickendrum @yujispinkhair @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi @fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @eastleighsblog @diorwoo @devilsmatches @kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch @sannwa @brown88 @sangiluvem @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps @sankatchu @lynnsqueendom @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @interweab @revehosh @byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie @shakalakaboomboo @yeosangsbbg

#ateez angst #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #yunho x reader #fic: sweetestlies

[lurkingshan]

Just saw your tags on turtle’s post and would love to hear more of your thoughts on Cheum

Oh, boy. Okay, I guess we’re doing this. So, when I think about Cheum I am usually making this face.

And embodying Oprah what is the truth.gif, because I think she is incredibly underwritten to the point of incomprehensibility. I think the term I used with @so-much-yet-to-learn to describe the writing for Cheum was "a void of characterization.”

By which I mean, I don't understand anything about her. I don't know what she wants or what she cares about. I don't know anything about her relationship with April. I don't know why she is friends with these guys or which she has real bonds with, if any. I don't know why she does things or whether I am supposed to see her as a neutral observer, a voice of reason, or another chaotic shit stirrer. I've seen some confusing messages from the creators about her that don't track with what I'm seeing on screen, so I find it hard to parse their intent versus the impact of what she is actually doing in the story.

But what I can tell you is that based on what I've seen, I don't like or respect her, and I certainly don't see her as in any way better or above the other characters in this story. Let me sum up what we've seen of Cheum over the course of the story:

She is mean to her friends, making lots of catty, passive aggressive remarks that dig at their sore points and taking sides against each of them on a whim

She pushes Mew to date Top and then to forgive him for cheating, to the point of ignoring Mew's stated wishes to conspire to help Top get back into his space

She somehow makes Ray nearly getting arrested all about her and in general gets overly involved in the boys' drama before turning around and berating them for causing her stress

She is judgmental and shaming about gay sex, making Boston out to be a predator for having a lot of sex and leveling a homophobic attack against him by claiming he took advantage of her "straight" brother

She lacks grace and humility and doesn't admit it or apologize when she is wrong, sticking to her bias against all evidence

And we have seen precious little in terms of positive attributes to balance this. We haven't seen her show up for any of the boys as a true or loyal friend. She seems reasonably good at school and conscientious about the hostel project, but we don’t get much there either. She's not even fun! Her function in the story is to be an antagonist to each of the boys in turn, even as the narrative seems to sometimes be suggesting that she is outside the drama.

It all reads very confused to me, and I can't say with any certainty how much of it is intentional and how much is just failures of writing and editing. She's not getting enough screen time for a confident read on who she is, and what she does get feels half-baked. At this point, I think it's safe to say Cheum is just a poorly executed character who has little purpose besides being the token lesbian in the friend group.

#only friends the series #only friends cheum #thai bl #shan answers

[zecroswe]

Theory on Terapagos and the true natrue of Tera crystals

So I played the Teal mask a while ago and I really enjoyed It. There is a lot to talk about regarding the characters and the story. I cannot wait until the Indigo Disc comes out! Now, the theory. So after playing the DLC and thinking about the lore within It, I had a realization and a lot of pieces would fit together if It is true. I am gonna put this post into sections to detail the evidence before I write down the conclusion. Spolier warning for Scarlet and Violet, the Teal mask DLC and The Pokemon Horizons anime. None of the game play images are my own.

Section 1: The Crystal Pool.

The crystal pool is such a tease for things to come and I would be surprised If It didn't have any importance in the Indigo Disc. The intresting points about the Crystal pool is that the crystals grew in the pool after being "brought" there. It sounds to me that someone (likely Ogerpons old trainer/gaurdian) brought the crystals and some of It got into the pool and grew from there. The crystal seems almost alive in a sense, like It's just a extension of Terapagos. But the real intresting thing is what the sign next to the pool says and by extension, Carmine in the story. (Couldn't find any footage of It specifically)

When you interact with the sign, It says that there is a rumor that one can see the spirits of the departed within the pool. That is interesting and I doubt It's just flavor text, considering Carmine mentions It too.

But what significance does this have? Well within the games It's unclear, but I think the Horizons anime might be hinting at something important to do with this.

Section 2: Pokemon Horizons, Terapagos.

Terapagos plays an important role in the Horizions anime series. Now I haven't seen the series myself, so I might get facts wrong.

From what I understand is that there is a story arc about these Ancient poke balls.

Now the only way to open them as I understand is by using terapagos powers, but that's not what interested me. No what got me curious is this.

So in episode 23, the main group find a Galarian Molters within one of the ancient pokeballs. After they battle It, Terapagos shows the group a vision of what seems to be Moltres old trainer. Now I admit, I don't have a full context on how It works and what connection terapagos actually have to this trainer. But I find Terapagos ability to show visions from people who seems to have passed away interesting. Either terapagos met this person in the past or It made the vision in some other way.

So here is my theory:

Terapagos has power over memory and so do the tera crystals!

Think about It, If terapagos had power over memory and create visions based on peoples memories, then a lot of things would make sense.

AI Sada and Turo explain that they have the original professors memories, and that no person could make a advanced AI without the tera crystals. A important question is this, How? How do you transfer/convert your own memories into code? Well, if the tera crystals can store memories within them, then It would be possible. The risk could be the fact that the persons memories gets blurry, fragmented, warped or at worst erased.

This could possibly explain why Sada and Turos mental state became one of obsession. It could be that being around high concentrations of tera energy for a long time causes parts of the mind to deteriorate: so instead of terapagos manipulating Sada or Turo, It's just a unfortunate side effect of the Tera energy It creates.

Terapagos having memory powers could also explain the Crystal Pool. The crystals are reacting to the people around It and is showing them visions based on their own memories: the result being what seems to be ghosts of the departed.

Now with that in mind: What does this mean for the Lousy three? What about Ogerpon

Section 3: The Loyal/Lousy three and Ogerpon

Now the Loyal three is a bit of a curve ball in this, considering the fact that they just got brought back to life; Full on necromancy. Or is It?

Now Kieran punched the monument while holding the teal mask and shortly after, the loyal three were resurrected. Now this could be because of a pokemon we haven't seen yet, seeing as It's very much hinted at that the loyal three have a boss. So this boss and their power could be behind this. But I believe the Teal mask is a important piece in this.

The Teal mask was made with Tera crystals and Ogerpon had that mask on her when she killed the loyal three. So If my idea of the Tera crystals storing memories is correct, then the crystals within the mask might have reacted to the monument and manifested the memories of the loyal three. In that case, they weren't traditionally brought back to life, but instead got recreated based on the what was stored in the crystal. In other words: The loyal 3 were recreated based on Ogerpons memory of them! (Or at least the information stored in the crystal).

The reason the crystal reacted in this case could be because the mask was were the loyal 3's graves were, so the crystals reacted to the location and activated (with the help of Kierans punch and/or the loyal 3s boss).

Another point considering Ogerpons mask is her Boss fight.

Ogerpon in the fight switches mask with each phase of the fight and the text for each highlights that she is getting strength from her memories.

It makes me think that It what Tera energy really is, It's memories from either the past, present of maybe even future (If terapagos exists outside of regular time normally) in crystal form.

Crystals that can then either manifest those memories into strength or into full fledged beings. This theory could work both with the Time Travel and the Dream theory

The true time travel idea would be that the paradox pokemon did exist in the past and future, and that Sada and Turos time machine just made the crystals recreate the pokemon based on the stored information.

If the dream theory is true, then the pokemon could be created from memories, just incorrect ones. The human mind isn't infallible and If Heath saw paradox pokemon, It could either be that the crystals activated for unkown reasons; or that the crystals created paradox pokemon based on what Heath and his team thought they saw. Example: The two paradox Dophans within the book could have been a different looking Donphan or machinery and they thought they saw what we understand as a Great Tusk or Iron Threads.

So Sada and Turos paradox pokemon would be based on their memories of the scarlet and violet book. Creating the paradox of these Pokemon existing.

I am so excited for part 2 of the DLC and I really wanna see how the story will continue!

TL:DR: Terapagos might be a timeless being that has the power to make memories physical. Memories can be stored in Tera crystals and then show visions of those memories. Tera crystals might activate under certain conditions to give Pokemon strength or recreate beings based on the information stored inside them. Long periods time around high concentrations for Tera crystals might cause damage to the mind.

#pokemon #pkmn scvi #pokemon dlc #pokemon theory #pokemon horizons #pokemon teal mask #paldea #kitakami #pokemon spoilers #indigo disk #professor sada #professor turo #pokemon violet #pokemon scarlet #terapagos #ogerpon #the loyal three #okidogi #munkidori #fezendipiti #I went a bit crazy #I might be very wrong #But It's really cool to think about #Kinda scary too #Terapagos is just a little lad #A eldritch old god kinda lad #But still xD #Pokemon necormancy am I right?

[vasito-de-leche]

so remember when we were all wondering what's with the r1999 character profile page?

the "an arcanist's work displayed in the 19xx"

and with their length x width dimensions

and how our chosen character in our home page retreats to being a painting in the background

anyways...in one of the new game infos in the loading pages (which has a very short window of reading time so it was hard to catch), it was said that:

there was a strange phenomenon of people turning into paintings that they can't find the cause of

based on what we have so far i am not liking what bluepoch could be implying in that loading page 🥹

For those who don't know or haven't seen it yet, they're talking about the following loading screen (ty to Tale's lore server for providing these!)

I just assume that these details are part of the whole artistic theme within the game, like how each Chapter is named after a real book, all the references to artistic movements and so on and so forth. As well as Vertin's role as the Timekeeper─she's meant to record and keep evidence from different eras, which sounds to me like a job for an art collector, conservator or restorator! So it makes sense to me that the people she saves are seen as art pieces.

Besides, the suitcase/Wilderness is a very vague, mysterious place. It's a literal pocket dimension that just seems to do its own thing and follow its own rules. I'm willing to casually accept that, sometimes, people turn into paintings for no apparent reason because it's a LITERAL pocket dimension that pulls people from time and space.

If I think reaaally hard ... Maybe you're implying that the people within the suitcase are doomed to become paintings eventually, because they're in the wrong era?

But that makes no sense, because there's hundreds of other survivors within the Foundation, Manus Vindictae and Apeiron so far who survive just fine─and Chapter 05 revealed why some places are immune to the "Storm."

Any potential arguments to support this theory don't hold up from my perspective, either. For example, the idea that the arcanists Vertin pulls from the spinning wheel in the middle of the lake are different from people who survive the "Storm" through different means (siding with either the Foundation or Manus, or by being in Apeiron, these are the only examples we have so far), and therefore they don't count, so they could be affected in different ways. This doesn't hold up, because Vertin pulled Sonetto, someone from the same era as her, into the suitcase through the spinning wheel. Whereas Regulus, who comes from an entirely different era, was just pushed inside. And yet, both of these characters turn into paintings anyway when you select them on the main screen.

So I don't think I understand the "implication" you're talking about and why you wouldn't like it? But please, feel free to elaborate on a different ask/reblog/reply, etc etc! I'd love to know!

#not a prompt #reverse 1999 #entirely unrelated to this ask #i think we should discuss the fact that the way vertin summons ppl to her suitcase #is partially thru rainwater from the Storm #like whats HAPPENING THERE #I KNOW THAT THE SPINNIGN WHEEL AND THE THREAD ARE A REFERENCE TO THE THREAD OF FATE AND ALL BUT. THE RAINWATER??????? FROM THE STORM??

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Sand's First Display of 'Messy' Behaviour

I'll preface this by saying I adore this man, and he's probably been the least problematic individual out of the Self-Proclaimed Friendship Circus. However, what left me with a chill was how Sand behaved when he revealed the affair to Ray.

Since we've been introduced to Sand, I think many of us have been pretty relieved by his largely green flag behaviour (in the midst of a very low bar being set in this group). This has often had me wondering what Sand's wider arc is going to be. The writers are not going to keep his storyline on one setting the whole way through. Therefore it's natural to anticipate we will be given another side to Sand - perhaps a less sympathetic or irrational part of his character. And maybe this was our first inkling into Sand's imperfections. He's also prone to vengeance and acting with an ulterior motive in mind.

Why it left me feeling so uncomfortable is because we haven't seen Sand in this light before. His score card has been pretty blemish-free.

Fuelled by a Vendetta

Nick shared this knowledge with Sand a while ago. However what triggered Sand to do something about it now was his confrontation with Top. We don't yet know what the circumstances were behind Top stealing Sand's ex from him, and how that played out. But it's evidently a sore grudge that Sand still very much holds against him.

Seeing Top again reminded Sand of the information he has at his disposal which could be used to teach Top a lesson. Sand is a very righteous person, and he doesn't think it's fair that someone should ruin his previous relationship, and now get what he wants with Mew as well. He wants Top to be punished. 'You're going to get what's coming to you, just wait'. It's possible that Sand didn't have the resources or means to get back at Top back then. But now he sees an opportunity to do so.

Combined with the fact that Sand has recently discovered that Ray loves Mew, this provides him with the perfect excuse for passing this information on. One, because as an outsider of their group, this can't come directly from him. Two, he knows based on Ray's temperament and his feelings for Mew, he'll be guaranteed to act.

Motivated by Selflessness or Selfishness?

I was originally going to post a deep dive on the scene between Ray and Sand at the bar, but I found myself constantly yo-yoing and ultimately undecided as to whether Sand's intentions were good or bad.

On the one hand, he's sharing this because he knows Ray will reveal the affair and Top will suffer the consequences. Thus, satisfying an act of indirect revenge.

On the other hand, he could also be doing this (as he so claims) due to his sense of righteousness. He just can't bear bad people getting away with bad things. And perhaps he does genuinely see Mew as a innocent victim here, and wants him to expose Top for who he is.

What also had me conflicted is that 'breaking' up Mew and Top doesn't play to Sand's interests. If Sand is romantically invested in Ray, and Mew becomes single again, this would allow Ray to continue pursuing Mew, which means Sand loses out. This is plausible if you're fuelled by unconditional love and a desire to see the person you love be happy. But I'm not entirely convinced that is the case here either.

You can also argue that Sand is 'using' Ray in this instance to achieve his objective, which is very questionable. He knows what a loose cannon Ray can be. Either he didn't think too much about the possible repercussions of how Ray would react, or he didn't care as long as Top got what he deserved. I don't think by any means Sand wishes to cause Ray any harm, but something really primal seemed to drive Sand to do this regardless of how Ray may be affected as the messenger.

So I don't know if I've decided yet. It could be a mix of all the above. This did seem to veer more on petty vengeance under the guise of righteousness. Mainly due to how Sand looks at Ray in that entire scene, which felt slightly manipulative and cold compared to how he usually has been with Ray. Especially when he says, "Mew is lucky though to have you by his side." It's almost with pinpoint precision that Sand triggers an image in Ray, to be the saviour swooping in to protect Mew.

All in all, I found Sand's behaviour this episode to be highly intriguing and unexpected. I saw a clip of First talking at an event recently, where he says something along the lines of 'when you see Sand do this, please forgive him', which implies there will be some further questionable or inexplicable behaviour later on potentially. Hmn.

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #ray x sand #sand x ray #raysan #sanray #khaofirst #firstkhao #first kanaphan #is sand harbouring some demons too? #this is one where i really want to get a sense of everyone else's thoughts on this because this had me really stumped #i guess we won't know until we see more of sand revealing this side of himself to gauge if it's out of good will or bad intent #that whole scene where he speaks to ray just gave me the heebies jeebies for some reason - i was like where's my sweet Sand?

[mrs-monaghan]

Hi, it's KY here :)

How is everyone feeling about the Taennie news? Knetz have fully accepted the truth and moved on, I suggest I-fans need to do the same. (Jennie is known for having dating news come out regularly, so it's not a big deal for BP fans. For Armys, the sane ones, we've known for a while now haven't we? It's not a shock anymore.)

I read the comments on my previous ask and don't worry! I will not be sharing anything sensitive whatsoever. I find it funny when other shippers say things like "How is it possible that K-fans can keep things to themselves?" I don't think I've seen anyone else address this yet so let me tell you why.

K-Jikookers are mostly queer. Yes, you read that right. Unlike other shippers, who are straight women that self-insert as one of the members (like they do with TK) we support them as a couple. This means that we don't want to date either of them, and we don't self-imagine as their partner - we know that they're unavailable because they're exclusive to each other. You get me? And we know first hand how terrible it is to be queer in a conservative society. There are actually very few real romantic shippers in Korea, (again, KM is the only romantic ship that has a substantial fanbase) simply because it is so hard to accept two men dating. This is why you will see K-Jikookers on Twitter all being close friends/meeting up in person, because they are kindred spirits. I think it might be hard for westerners to really understand. How do I emphasize this more? The older generation in Korea, anyone older than 30+, is deeply homophobic, to the point where they see anything LGBT as western influence and pervasion. Being American, I know it's hard to grasp that level of homophobia - it's not hate comments about your sexuality or people refusing to sell you a cake for a gay wedding. It's social death, rejection, parents disowning their children, getting fired from your job. I'm not kidding. Do you think us, as queer fans who love and support KM, will willingly out them?

We would never, ever, ever do that, because we know the repercussions. Some Jikookers like to fantasize about their coming out, and I want you to understand: the K-side is terrified of that day. Yes, we all think it will happen in due time, but we are very very scared. You think the hate that JM is getting now is bad? You think people sending food to JK's apartment is bad? Nope. You haven't seen anything yet. You understand what I mean, right? Their coming out will not be a cute post. It will be a carefully orchestrated move complete with a legal and PR team. If/when they are out, their lives will be in immediate danger. I truly believe they will leave the country for a bit, maybe even months, maybe a year. There will not be any public sightings, fan meets, concerts. KM know this very well too. I'm sure there's already a plan in place for it.

And anyone searching for KM evidence on K-Jikookers social media, I would say don't bother. It's almost impossible. The white day photo leak was a massive mistake, and I know exactly who leaked it because they were removed from all group chats immediately. K-Jikookers were very very angry with them (and also cussing out foreigners...please, we all need to keep our mouths shut and keep stuff within our own circles.)

-KY

KY has spoken. We appreciate your services and await your next drop in.

I too, the Jikookers that I know, I have never seen them self insert themselves. Those are y/n idiots who do this shit. Not even in private spaces do I see this happening. We support them as a couple, despite how hot we may find them. We understand and believe they only have eyes for eo.

We appreciate the commercial break KY. Now back to the headline

TAENNIE IS REAL!!!!!

#ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #kookmin #jimin and jungkook #taennie is real #taennie #jikook is real

[kirain]

Hi! I love your metas and I had a question if you don't mind. I love Barcus but I'm a bit confused by the Ironhand gnomes and why they were so mad at the Gondians? Did I maybe miss something?

Omg, I'm so glad someone asked me this! Thank you, anon. I broached this exact subject with my friend a few days ago, and I'd already considered writing a post about it, so this was the kick I needed! Barcus is hands down my favourite NPC (perhaps of all time) and the gnome plight is easily my favourite side quest in the entire game, so I'm excited to share what I've learned!

To preface, I'd like to mention that most gnomes, according to D&D lore, live in clans and keep to themselves. This is especially true for deep gnomes, as the Underdark is an exceedingly dangerous homeland. Their people are often enslaved by drow or duergar, or eaten by other nefarious creatures that lurk in the shadows. As such, they have become a profoundly somber and cynical race, relying only on each other for survival. They're also extremely wary of strangers, as Barcus perfectly demonstrates when we first meet him.

Now, a history lesson. The Ironhand Gnomes, who at some point left the Underdark, worked in Baldur's Gate for generations, providing the city with the best mechanomagical inventions the populace had ever seen. Though they still kept to themselves and worked in isolation, they were well respected by the citizens, and flourished enough to inspire other gnomes to seek a new life in the city as well. This may not have been their goal, but whether they meant to or not, they brought gnomish innovation to the forefront of one of the most multicultural cities in all of Faerûn.

More importantly, the Ironhand Gnomes worshipped a lesser deity called Gaerdal Ironhand, who Wulbren's ancestor, Wolverforce Bongle, allegedly conversed with. Massive however, in all of my research, I haven't been able to find any evidence that he was truly capable of such a feat, nor is he ever referred to as a "Chosen" by either himself or anyone from his clan. Therefore, it's possible this is nothing more than an unsubstantiated claim made by zealots. A book called Ironhand Gnomes: Our Grievances can be found in the gnome hideout in Act 3, verifying some of this information, but it's glaringly biased against the Gondians, with radically religious and violent undertones.

But where did this hatred come from? Well, according to the book, the Ironhand Gnomes shared some of their expertise with other clans, and some of those clans took what they learned and opened their own workshops. The Gondians, who worship Gond, did particularly well, constructing their own factories and becoming quick competition. They even built a Gondian Church in the city, and attributed their success to Gond; god of craft, smithing, and inventiveness. For whatever reason, the Ironhands didn't appreciate this and accused the Gondians of stealing their methods and designs, as well as pointing out flaws in their "shoddy" craftsmanship.

However, Gondian work was relatively flawless, as well as artifice-based, meaning it relied on science and raw materials. The Ironhands specialised in mechanomagical inventions, meaning they imbued their engines with arcane influence. This put the Gondians and Ironhands at odds with each other, as Gond espoused artifice supremacy, whereas Gaerdal Ironhand, according to Wolverforce, accused Gond of being a thief. So yes, we've reached the crux of the issue—religious turmoil. Both gods, I should mention, are good-aligned and easily misinterpreted, so of course that adds another layer of complications.

In response to the Ironhand's accusations, the Gondians started slandering the Ironhand clan, losing them favour in the city. In other words, the feud quite literally became a he said/she said situation, with both clans acting like petty children. Whether or not the Ironhand Gnomes taught the Gondians a few tricks, they weren't owed credit for their inventions. That would be like my friend showing me how to use Adobe Animate, then demanding credit for all of my artwork thereafter ... and all while criticising it. And the Gondians, though attempting to protect their reputation, had no right to spread lies about the Ironhand clan, not all of whom participated in the drama. They could've let their work speak for itself.

But this war of finger-pointing dragged on, with both sides losing and gaining support from confused Baldurians. Eventually, the Ironhands became desperate to get the upperhand, rousing Wolverforce to experiment with the thought-to-be mythical runepowder. This led to what became known as the "Unfortunate Runepowder Incident", wherein the overweening Wolverforce caused a massive explosion, killing himself and countless others in the blast. Wulbren blames this tragedy on the Gondians alone, and many Ironhands seem to feel it was the root of their exile, but there's more to it.

In reality, the Ironhand Gnomes were banished from Baldur's Gate because they aligned themselves with Sarevok Anchev, the Bhaalspawn who tried to destroy the city in the first game. For some reason, Wulbren completely glosses over this detail, likely because he can't bring himself to admit the Ironhands are responsible for their own downfall. In fact, he brushes it off, as if it's some insignificant happenstance that deserves forgiveness without merit. After all, it happened over a century ago. Then, in Act 3, he says a painfully backwards line about how he thinks the Gondians would've joined Sarevok, if given the chance. But they did have a chance, and they didn't join him. The Ironhands did. As far as I'm concerned, this highlights Wulbren's extensive denial.

Which brings me around to Barcus and why he's such an endearing character. He doesn't care about ancient feuds or gnome supremacy. He made a name for himself, despite his clan's reputation. The Gondians never saw him as an enemy, and he in turn saw the value in their work. He prefers diplomacy and open dialogue, and he abhors violence to the highest degree. With a little hard work, he proved that the Ironhand Gnomes could've redeemed themselves without resorting to such extreme and radical measures; which is why I will always argue for him to take leadership. He's the best. He's everything. He is the shining future of unity and creation.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #barcus wroot #bg3 barcus #barcus my beloved #wulbren bongle #bg3 wulbren #ironhand gnomes #gondians #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #gnome post

[squgs]

HOTD and Ambiguity

So given that House of the dragon covers nearly 20 years of history (30 if you count the prologue), and a shit ton of characters in ten hours of television there's a lot of events that we don't see and ambiguities around characters. Characters rarely state their motivations and there are reasons to doubt them when they do. It is very easy to make wildly different claims about characters which, while incompatible with each other, can't really be disproved by the show so far. For example Daemon can be a pedo groomer abuser who just wants the throne, or a feminist malewife who will do anything for his queen. Neither of those are explicitly disproven by what we see on screen, though that is not to say that they're equally reasonable readings (I think that the 2nd is pretty ridiculous to be honest).

These different readings of scenes and characters and lines have contributed to the pretty ugly fandom discourse since there is enough evidence for mutually exclusive claims to argue extensively. Whoever your favorite character is you can twist the shown events in order to make them seem like a hero and for everyone who opposes them to be terrible. However I don't have anything worthwhile to say on that, so I want to talk about the writing on its own instead.

Now having uncertain motives can be interesting writing wise (show don't tell and all that), but I think that as House of the Dragon's first season continued it ran into more and more problems around this, especially with the time jumps and actor changes. When character's motives and wants are unclear after the time jumps first impressions are what will decide how most people view them. So when we first see Rhaenyra giving birth, and we first see Alicent trying to separate a newborn from her mother, and we first see Criston calling Rhaenyra a slur and we first see Harwin being a protective father and we first see Aegon bullying his brother, it adds up. Those first impressions are then applied forward and backwards leading to the idea that Alicent and Criston have been abusing Rhaenyra for ten years, and that in the training yard Criston the incel fucked around with Harwin and then found out (my read is that Criston the step-dad took advantage of Harwin being an entitled ass to get him fired).

(Side note about Criston: While the exact thinking behind his downward spiral in episode 5 is ambiguous, the scene between him and Rhaenyra in episode 4 is unambiguously rape given that he tells her to stop and she doesn't.)

In that way the show encourages very one sided readings of complicated and ambiguous scenes, leading to people either being annoyed that the show ignores all the terrible things that the greens are doing, or that it's unfairly biased against them. That's a problem, but things don't completely fall apart until episodes 9 and 10 when people start going to war. For all of the characters we still have no idea what they are fighting for. If we ask why Alicent crowns Aegon we have a bunch of possible answers:

Because she thinks Viserys told her to. This is stupid and I hate it.

Because she fears for her children's lives. This is a good reason, but it has not been brought up since episode 6 despite episodes 7 and 8 both featuring moments that would certainly validate that fear.

Internalized misogyny. This one makes no sense to me, and I haven't seen any convincing evidence for Alicent specifically having more internalized misogyny than any of the other women on the show. However it could be interesting if it was actually seen beforehand.

Ambition and pride. This isn't really seen in the show, but it certainly seems like an understandable feeling for Alicent to have after suffering through an abusive marriage for 20 years and being denied the two things that women are promised through marriage (her husband's protection of her and her children, and the inheritance of her son)

Now if we ask why Rhaenyra wants the crown enough to go to war for it (she agrees to lay siege to king's landing before Luke dies so I'm ignoring that) we have a similarly confusing list of possibilities:

Her dad told her to. This is the reason that I think fits best, but it isn't really delved into. I think there would be a lot of rich interesting stuff with Rhaenyra evaluating her father's legacy and whether she wants to continue it, but Rhaenyra never seems to acknowledge how much bad shit her father has done.

So she can fulfill the prophecy. This is stupid.

Ambition and pride. Also aren't really seen, but certainly understandable and believable.

She fears for her children. This also isn't really shown at all, but you could argue that she fears her children will be killed either to protect Aegon's claim or to put an actual Valeryon on the throne of Driftmark. However we don't really know Rhaenyra's view of the political situation.

To destroy the patriarchy. This would be interesting, but we don't really see her wanting to do that. We do see her usurp Baela's claim to Driftmark in episode 8 though.

These issues get even worse with the more minor characters, the worst example being Rhaenys for whom all her possible motivations contradict her previous actions and opinions:

To protect/honor her grand daughters: if this is what she wants why doesn't she take Alicent's offer of Driftmark, giving her granddaughters an inheritance and keeping them out of the war?

To protect Luke and Jace: she never shows them any affection except maybe in the background of the eye gouging aftermath.

Feminism: if she is willing to go to war in order to have a queen on the iron throne why didn't she fight for her own claim?

Because she wants peace: then why didn't she accept Alicent's offer which was made in the name of peace? Literally as soon as she and Corlys put their support behind Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra stops considering making peace.

Because she trusts Rhaenyra more than the greens: Why? She thinks that Rhaenyra and Daemon killed at least one of her children, she saw Daemon murder her brother in law and we have no reason to think she knows of any misdeeds done by the greens.

All these unclear motivations make the themes of the stories non-existent. The dance could have all sorts of different thematic meanings, all built around what is being fought for and against. It would be fascinating if Alicent and Rhaenyra were both fighting for ambition, making the show about how women are pitted against each other by patriarchy or if they were both fighting for their children and the show is about the cruelty of the system that doesn't allow power to be shared and forces branches of families to fight until one side is wiped out. However, for any meaning to be clear the writers have to know what it is and they have to write their characters with that meaning in mind. Hopefully the show can be more clear going forward, but I don't exactly expect that, and I think that without a coherent set up it's not going to mean much when bodies start dropping next season.

#house of the dragon #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #criston cole #rhaenys targaryen #hotd critical #pro team green

[wolven91]

The Predator Café - Chapter 7

(Trigger Warning: Violence, Injury)

Panic, rage, fear and white-hot fury swirled within Natasha's chest.

The outside world began to fade out until all that was within her sight was that remnant of clothing that was unmistakably her friend's as the edges of her vision became a black halo around this tenuous link to Pip.

She could hear naught but the roar of her heartbeat as she began to hyperventilate.

The next thing she was aware of was being inside the Café, standing in front of her boss. She watched herself as if from above near the ceiling; she demanded if he'd seen Pip enter, he was denying this and shaking his head. She could see herself asking if he was certain. The man confirmed that the smaller Prey entrance hadn't been opened since the lunch time rush.

She 'blinked' and was already halfway home in a full sprint.

Their voice, crystal clear, repeated in her head. '...your 'Prey' won't escape...'; her blood boiled and her jaw ached from clenching her teeth.

Bursting into her home she stalked from one dark room to the other, pacing in impotent rage and fear.

She stopped at the kitchen, the cold pasta still sat in a pot on the hob. Her mind cleared instantly; Pip was in danger and she had to protect him. She was getting him back, there was no doubt in her mind for a single second that she'd get him back or she'd pull their god-damned spines out.

She'd have to be smart about this.

The police were as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike. If she rang them, they'd turn it into a hostage situation that would leave Pip in even greater danger. Her lawyer had even said that they'd never retrieved any of the previous victims alive...

“...fucking ghouls ate the evidence...” she realised with horror.

Her lawyer though? She was capable; she could call in the cavalry while Natasha bought them time on the inside. Natasha had never been one to sit on the sidelines when someone else was in trouble; especially one of her own. She'd learnt over a long childhood in the slums that sometimes one had to take things into their own hands; to stack the deck in their favour.

Their whispering came back to haunt her from the darkness that surrounded her; 'When you’re ready, go to the sub-station near the park. Knock once.'

“When I'm ready? Oh I'll get ready boys. I'll be good ‘n ready...”

===

Pip woke in a cloying darkness that made it hard to breathe.

When he did try to take a deep breath, pain lanced through his side causing him to flinch which only hurt the mammal further. He tried to remain still and take damp shallow gulps of air as he came to realise that he was contained within a sack of some kind.

He assumed he was on the floor as it was hard and cold beneath him. He thought it would be better for whoever had him to believe he was still unconscious so made a point to remain as still as possible while he tried to listen for voices or a clue as to what was around him.

Panic bubbled just below the surface, it threatened to rise up and drown him if not for the mantra that he repeated to himself that just had to keep calm and he would find an opportunity to escape. His entire childhood had been training him through established methods of how to keep safe in a world that wasn't a Prey's.

Many of them were pointless now; stay in lit areas, stay in communication with people, arm yourself. His best hope now was to find a chance to get distance between his captors and either hide where they couldn't reach him or out run them.

A nasally voice, moving closer to where he lay, broke the silence.

“Do we know if she's coming?”

A gruff voice replied a moment later.

“She'll be coming, sooner rather than later. I don't know much about these Humans but they don't look like the kind to give up on Prey.” A mirthless chuckle escaped the gruff voice. “If I haven't missed my mark, I'm willing to bet she'd chase this meat for forever.”

The nasally voice seemed unconvinced and to Pip struck him as a minion rather than a mastermind.

“Yeah, but what if.. what if she-”

“Shut up.” The gruff voice stated flatly.

“If she does anything stupid then we'll have to react to it. This may be your first time dealing with this, but this is how we recruited before. If these humans are what we think they are, it'll be easier to get them to join Predators like us than anyone else.”

“But boss, they aren't exactly discrete, she's taller than you even?”

Pip had used the term 'feral' before in jest or flippancy, but the growl that came from the gruff voice triggered a primitive part of his brain, it was a deep seated fear that ran through his body.

If he didn't get free, he was going to die.

His thoughts were interrupted by a third voice, this one came from further away as if they weren't in the same room as the other ones that had spoken so far.

“Hey boss! She's coming! She's.. got a pipe?”

“You two, go hide in the other room. You two with me, when she gets in, stand either side of her. I don't care what's she's armed herself with, if she fucks around we'll show her that we're the real Predators here, not this 'equals' nonsense...”

===

Natasha marched with confidence towards the substation that sat just outside the limits of a public park. It was a small structure, no larger than her front room and without a second floor she questioned whether it would be able to hold any more than the group of three that had told her about it in the first place.

There was something she didn't know. Either this wasn't their base or there was something she wasn't seeing yet.

It didn't matter; this was her single lifeline connecting her to Pip, there weren't any other options.

She had prepared herself as best she could, it had taken longer than she had wanted it to, but without a timeline she had hoped they had meant they'd keep Pip 'safe' until she could make it. Hey lawyer had assured her that she would inform the police, but begged her not to do anything rash.

Walking up to the substation door, she knocked a single time and stepped back away from it. A weird 'secret knock', but who in their right mind would knock on a door once? She shrugged to herself, it didn't matter; she just had to get inside.

The door unlocked from within as a bolt slid free.

“Come in, Sister.” A familiar voice said from the shadows, this was definitely the place. She steeled herself as she stepped into the 'lion's den'.

Inside a creature that resembled a Weasel hoped down off a crate that had served as its perch to look out of the small grime encrusted window. Normally Natasha would do her best to recall their correct designations and species names, but it didn't even register. She was appraising him; weighing him up as to how quickly he moved, how heavy he was, did he look like he could handle himself? Her time in the slums had given her enough experience to gauge how dangerous a person actually was.

This was a creature that looked like they used; speed, claws and teeth to win their fights. It gave her a toothy grin which faltered immediately as he noticed her expression and flinched from looking at her directly in the eye. He gestured lamely to the metal bat that she gripped in the middle with one hand while avoiding her gaze.

“You- you can't bring that in here... you can't be armed.”

“Ya’ think I'm gonna’ go into a room of Predators unarmed? Do ya’ think I'm stupid?” She snapped back at him, she'd expected to be challenged, but with just a bat she'd be able to talk her way through. Bluff that they wanted her here, not the other way round.

“But.. you..”

A voice called out from deeper within the structure, further away than what should be possible.

“Let her in, she's one of us...”

She gave the weasel a withering stare as she tapped the bat against her hip impatiently.

He ducked his head and retreated to the end of a grey electrical console. It dominated the single room that was the substation, but when he and Natasha rounded the far corner, a metal bulkhead jutting out of the ground was swung open presenting a ladder down into what Natasha assumed was the sewers.

This was not going to plan; she had no interest in going below ground, especially with what looked like a manhole cover that could be sealed closed between her and the rest of the world.

“Ya’ live in the sewers...?” She said disdainfully as she grabbed the ladder and began to descend before anyone could question her resolve. As she reached the bottom of the ladder, a serious voice, which gave her the impression of the ringleader, greeted her.

“Welcome sister. Yes, we may technically live in the sewers for now, it won't be long before we bring our vision of the galaxy to the wider city and world above. We and now you, are not alone with our desires-”

Natasha tuned him out as he continued to drone on, seemingly loving the sound of his own voice and getting high off his own horseshit. She noted that he was a Canid, black and brown colourings with a body that spoke of time at the gym, but he was small, shorter than normal canids. A runt? Either side of her sat two more, totalling four so far, one a felinoid that looked like she'd seen better days with the scraggly pelt of tawny fur and bald spots in her hide. Her partner on the other side of the room; a draconian, was thin with black for the majority of his scales but with blotches of deep red in a chaotic pattern across his visible flesh.

Natasha continued to observe the room as the ringleader went on about a 'new world order' by talking about how it was 'better in the old days'. She could sincerely feel her brain cells dying as he continued to regurgitate words that must've sounded impressive to him but imparted no actual meaning to anyone paying attention.

The room was a definitely part of the sewer system, but it appeared unused based off the floor and walls being clean of any sign of previous water or sewage, it was however, littered with the signs of usage by people; bottles and empty food packages lined the walls along with various boxes and half burnt candles scattered about haphazardly. The room itself was wide and open, the ceiling was however, almost too close for comfort to Natasha, but she gauged that she would be the tallest here by at least a head; only she would have to worry about hitting head against the humming strip lights. The end of the room, behind the ringleader's chair, had a divot in the floor for sluicing liquids away and a tunnel that cut across the room, leading deeper into the sewer system, it made the room into a 'T' shape, preventing Natasha from seeing around the corners into either direction of the tunnel.

She was in look, these lot looked like dregs, deformed and stunted. Was that their reasoning for eating people? They didn’t have the strengths of their brethren so they attacked anyone weaker?

The canid who was currently sitting at the opposite end of the room to the entrance ladder was occupying an aged leather chair that had somehow been brought down into the space. Saying that the only other visible seating in the room were several crates, it struck Natasha that this canid thought himself above those who followed him. The crates that served as seats were reinforced as such as they were each surrounded by empty bottles of beer or cans. What was interesting is that there were more available and visibly used seats than members present.

'Maybe 6 of them?' Natasha thought to herself as she realised the ringleader was winding his speech up as he was now standing with arms wide as if addressing a grand cheering crowd rather than skulking in the goddamned sewer.

Her bat 'tinked' against the cement floor as she dropped her grip from the middle of it, to the handle end and she flatly began.

“Wow...” struggling and failing to pretend any longer.

The sickly canid brought his gaze from the ceiling down to her, lowering his arms down to his sides lamely. Her lack of applause was disheartening to the man. He genuinely thought he'd improved his delivery of that speech.

“Jin, give us some privacy.” He shouted past her; the metal portal she had climbed through closed with a slam and grating lock.

'So much for their plan; my turn.' She smiled to herself, she hadn't been relying on any back up if she was honest with herself. It was always going to be her versus whatever unfortunately bastard that thought they could take her Pip.

“You fella’s took something from me. I want it back.” She demanded with a stony glare. The canid held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Peace Sister, we only grabbed it so you could enjoy it without anyone suspecting you and so we could all meet. We're glad their meddling didn't get you arrested properly before you could enjoy its succulent flesh.”

The felinoid piped up in a tone that Natasha assumed she meant in a supporting manner. 

“It smells so sweet, I can understand why you chose it. I can't wait to sink my teeth into it properly...”

Natasha gripped the bat harder, her knuckles turning white.

“I will not 'share' Him in any way, shape or form. Not with y’all or anyone else, do ya’ understand me?”

The canid gave the human an award winning smile as he tried to reassure her.

“Oh you must understand, until we have enough to go around, we all must all share our prey. We each can support each other, we are a fami-”

“Show me him now.” Natasha cut off the canid. She needed to know he was alive. As long as he was alive she would help him live a life even if he wasn't whole.

“You're right, you're right! Of course, we've taken your food from your mouth and are trying to negotiate while you have no evidence we're sincere. Granc! Bring it out here now!”

From one of the blind-corner tunnels, another runt of a canid appeared with a lumpy sack in one hand. Like the felinoid, this one had mange and looked thin or sickly. He handed off the sack to the ringleader who reached in the bag.

A heartbreaking squeak came from within as he grasped and pulled Pip out in one harsh movement. Natasha's ache from her jaw came back, she could feel her bottom left eyelid begin to twitch with the effort of keeping her face neutral.

Pip looked scared and hurt. The Canid held him by the back of his neck, Pip had grabbed the larger creature's fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure on his body. He had dried blood over his face and he wasn't breathing correctly, as if he couldn't draw in a full breath. His fur was bedraggled and damp, he looked awful, but he was alive and awake; that was enough for Natasha. As he blinked in the sudden change of light, his eyes focused on Natasha and his face showed shock, surprise and fear.

Whether fear for himself, fear 'for' her or fear 'of' her, Natasha couldn't tell.

It didn't matter, he was alive and she was keeping it that way.

“Hand him over.” She demanded again.

“No, we've been more than welcoming to you and we've only received hostility in return. It's time you decide to join us or not.”

“As I said before; He. Is. Mine. I will not be sharing him with anyone, let alone pretend Predators such as y’all.”

This got a reaction from them, the two who had been sat either side of Natasha stood and came closer to her, well within range.

Good. Get cocky, get in close.

“Pretenders?!” The ringleader said incredulously.

“Oh, ya’ disagree? Ya’ll not predators, none of ya’ are! And yet ya’ think ya’ll good enough to take what's mine?! Ya’ bottom feeders! Ya’ll haven’t brought down anything that could actually give ya’ a run for ya’ money. At best, ya’ll opportunistic scavengers and ya’ done fucked with the wrong human.”

As the canid breathed in to retort, Natasha didn't wait to hear any more drivel from him.

She grasped the opposite end of her bat in her spare hand and drove the handle into the ribs of the black and red draconian as hard as she could, utilising her whole body to add force into the jab. The dull 'crack' echoed through the room from the bipedal lizard’s torso as he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. She let go of the business end of the bat to swing it in a full circuit, so the felinoid received the full brunt of force that swept the bat from down by her feet right up and into her jaw. Her head snapped backwards in a whiplash inducing motion before falling away and clutching at her face, the scream that came from it was more raw emotion than anything coherent.

At a glance the draconian had fared little better as he remained on the floor trying and failing to gulp air that simply wouldn't come.

The spare runt canid came from the front as he grabbed at the bat with both hands, Natasha was pushed back a moment before moving her arms in a violent jerking motion to push the bat squarely into his snarl, breaking his front teeth. He was stunned for a moment allowing Natasha to follow up with a second strike with the middle of the bat with little resistance. The front of his muzzle crumpled slightly as the majority of his front teeth disappeared when they broke in half and blood burst from the ends of his nostrils.

As she pulled the bat clear of his hands, she swung the handle to hit him in the face in a short pivot, it was then that Natasha was blind sided as she was tackled to the floor by a green blur. 

The green blur slashed at her face where her cheek immediately began to burn and ache. The new geckin, previously hidden around the other blind corner, reared back, jaws agape to clamp down on her exposed neck. He was small, but still sharp. As he lunged downwards, the act was arrested by the spiked choker she had donned before her arriving at the substation, preventing him from being able to close his jaws around her throat completely.

Normally she would only wear the spiked collar when going to a concert or other event where she could dress as dramatically as she liked, but she had feared that without something to defend her neck and wrists, she may have been vulnerable to this exact attack. The 'camo' geckin tried to close his teeth around her and pull, but the metal and leather left his attack ineffective and more damaging to himself than Natasha.

As he straddled her, she drove a knee up into his crotch as hard as she could before grabbing the creature and rolling to the side, dragging him beneath her in a reversal. She proceeded to pound into his face with both of her fists; her adrenaline allowing her to wail away into his jaw, cheeks and eye sockets. It wasn't until a kick to her ribs from a new assailant, forced her to roll away with a wince into a low crouch and her fists raised to defend herself.

The Ringleader stalked around his fallen compatriots, the geckin wasn’t moving.

“You idiot! Do you not understand?! We're the only ones in this city that appreciate your desire! You're denying yourself it's flesh!”

Natasha was beyond words at this point, her rage fuelled her onwards; the slight movements of her Pip in the corner of her vision willed her to tear this dog’s head off. 

She reached back to retrieve her 'back-up plans' from her back pockets. Slipping the pair 4-ringed brass knuckles over each of her own she stalked forwards towards the enraged alien.

The wild haymaker he threw out was easily redirected; it was trying to disembowel her, but Natasha gave back a quick jab into his chest rather than a grander response. He was shorter than the average canid by a significant margin, but no less dangerous, to underestimate him would be to defeat herself. He took a step back before pushing forward again, he then threw out a series of clawed slashes that did no more than bounce off Natasha's guard as she allowed his assault uninterrupted. The spiked bracelets that donned her wrists, jabbed and gouged at his own forearms weakening his attack as he could simply flail at her. His assault was feral; strong and violent, but without finesse. He’d been used to being the larger one in past conflicts, his self-assurance was evident in his lack of form or skill.

Her initial plan was to allow him to punch himself out, with his inability to end the fight by numbers or taking advantage of an exposed neck, he could only batter himself against her stalwart defence. He had a moment of inspiration however by throwing out a punch into Natasha’s gut slipping through her guard. She doubled over in a moment before twisting at the hip and using her elbow to slam into the canid’s face. He flinched and stepped backwards blinking away stars as his sensitive muzzle burst in a small geyser of blood.

Natasha’s ‘rope-a-dope’ plan was thrown into disarray however when, as the two circled each other, Pip appeared from behind the Ringleader and drove a screwdriver into the flesh of his calf with a rebel yell. Crying out and collapsing to one knee the canid successfully aimed a sweeping backhand that launched Pip deeper into the room away from the brawl.

Natasha saw red at Pip being struck; defence gave way to pure, livid hatred.

Before the canid could prepare himself, he was attacked by a true ‘Predator', one that dredged an icy dread from deep within him; a feeling he was not aware that he could ever experience, one of a Prey.

The metal covered knuckled came up in a south-paw upper punch that snapped his jaw closed and put the former Predator on his back. Natasha pounced upon him to batter solely into his head and whilst the sieged creature attempted to bring his arms up to defend himself, Natasha simply pulled his arm out of the way to land an uninterrupted hit square into whatever was in the way between her and the floor.

This continued for a time, a cathartic, raged filled therapy for Natasha as she paid him back for the upset and harm he had caused for both the Human and her Pip.

It was only when the creature had stopped moving that the drive to hit it drained from Natasha and a sudden overwhelming need to find and protect Pip returned.

Natasha got off the still breathing but bloodied meat that now laid thoroughly tenderised and scrambled over on all fours to the caramel furred mammal that remained still in a heap. She gingerly picked him up; he was still breathing but limp in her arms. She rushed over to the ladder out and turned the handle that would open the hatch once more, it had been locked from the inside.

When she unlocked it fully, the hatch was opened immediately by the collection of law enforcement officers that had crowded around the entrance to the subterranean lair. They however flinched back at the sight of the haggard and still enraged Human crawling from the depth with her face covered in blood. Whether this was her’s, Pip's or anyone else's, none of them knew, but they retreated to allow her to pass and leave the substation. The officers then climbed down the ladder to arrest the occupants within, they had heard the violence from within and expected the worst. Aside from a variety of heavily injured occupants, they were all still alive, albeit some only just.

===

 As Pip came back to the waking world, his environment had changed significantly for the better.

Beneath him was a soft mattress that supported his body gently, while the bed itself had his upper half slightly raised. The pillows beneath his neck and head were softer than his own back at his dorm, he thought mildly as he opened his eyes and began to blink the burring away.

Before his vision returned he felt a weight over his shins, heavier than the thin sheet that covered the majority of his body. Hovering over him was a fellow Prey dressed in the uniform of a nurse. Her whiskers twitched as she smirked down at him as she adjusted a bag with clear liquid inside that was connected to his arm via a tube.

“Welcome back Mr Warin, so you are aware; you've been asleep for the best part of two days, but should make a full recovery shortly.”

He blinked and croaked in response from his incredibly dry throat. He tried to swallow to refresh himself as the nurse, satisfied with her work, walked around the bottom of the bed where he suddenly noticed the form of Natasha.

The medical ward he was in was obviously designed for creatures smaller than Natasha; the items, fixtures and beds were all a more ‘normal’ size to Pip’s perspective. However, even slouched as she was, Natasha took up an alarming amount of space, practically overtaking the bottom of his bed where the top half of her slept.

‘She must be sat on the floor while hunched over the bed’ Pip thought to himself.

“We moved the other patients once she refused to leave. The others were distressed despite it being on the news.”

“She refused… What... what was on the news?”

“Her rescue of you Mr Warin? Whatever the misunderstanding was the day before, word is she single handedly removed the beginning of another feral Predator ring. The reporters had followed the parade of police and reported it live. When she appeared like an angel of death, but carrying you; people didn’t know what to think.” The nurse shook her head.

“Tokens of praise and apology have been arriving whilst you’ve both been here. They are starting to take up too much room. I would have raised a complaint if not for the fact that everyone is still hesitant to stay in a room with a human…” The nurse continued, gesturing towards the entrance to the room where a pile of gifts, flowers and tokens of various sizes had overtaken one wall.

“Now you’re awake, I doubt there will be any need for you to stay much longer. You were suffering more from sleep deprivation rather than anything physically wrong, aside from some nasty bumps. We have however stitched up the claw marks on your back, although it is likely they will scar, and your fur may not return.”

Pip thanked the nurse before she retreated from the room to follow up on her other patients. Looking down at the blonde beauty, he recalled what he had seen down in the sewers.

He had described her before as a force of nature, when he had laid on top of her chest and listened to her heartbeat. Now he knew this description was too understated. She had been truly terrifying, her speed went beyond what was right for a creature at her size to be able to move.

He had felt the impacts of her hits, the reverberations of the strikes had made him wince with each blow. When she had been taken to the floor and the Saurian that had been hidden away tore at her neck, Pip had feared the worst.

But nothing could stop her, she was a tidal wave of anger, of something primal... feral, even...

Pip winced at his own thought, that he'd put her in the same category as those brutes.

Placing a small hand into her hair he stroked it through the silken mess. She looked tired, the three gouges in her cheek looked deep and were held closed by white stitches. If he had scars on his back, those would absolutely scar and all because he got into a mess he should have avoided.

His heart broke at the idea he had led her to harm.

A wordless groan of being pulled from sleep escaped her throat.

"Morning beautiful..." Pip whispered.

"Pip? Pip!" She exclaimed, waking up fully and rocking the bed in her attempt to straighten up.

"Ya’ awake! Oh I'm so sorry Pip! It's all my fault, if I'd just left ya’ alone ya’ wouldn't have been taken or threatened and everyone-"

The cascade of apologies and worry that spilled forth surprised him, he was expecting to be the one that was to apologise not for his saviour to best him to the punch, so to speak.

"...Natasha." He said simply, stalling her mid-sentence. 

"Sorry." She said meekly.

It didn't suit her. 

Pip hated the idea of her not being herself, but he wanted her to say her piece, it was important to her so it was important to him.

"I don’t believe there's anything for you to apologise for, but if you disagree, I accept your apology and want nothing more than to hear nothing else on the matter..."

Her shoulders slumped, as if he had single handedly removed the weight of the world off her shoulders.

“...its me who should be apologising."

"No, thats not-"

"Let me finish... please." He quietly begged.

She fell silent and waited for him.

"I knew better, you didn't." He began with a sigh. "There are... expectations of what is ‘normal’ of you and me, of a Predator and a Prey. But you weren't aware of these and shouldn't be and won’t be held accountable for them. I was, and I deliberately ignored them so I could selfishly spend time with someone I found exciting... Even when I knew and was duly warned, that it would all end in tears.”

He closed his eyes in confused shame.

"I came back and encouraged you because I found you attractive Natasha, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, even though I knew it was more than likely that nothing good could have come from us spending time with each other. This whole mess is because I didn’t do what I was supposed to…” He couldn’t look at her right now, he had to tell her the truth, to make her understand that she was free from blame, and he wouldn’t hold anything against her when she defended her social standing by leaving him behind. Especially after he had intentionally undermined hers for his lust.

Humans were new to the whole mess; how could anyone blame them? Not him, he would never blame her.

“What a crock.” Natasha stated flatly, Pip snapped his head up in confusion. “Do I not get a say? Ya’ think I didn’t know what people might say when we waltzed off together? Don’t be making assumptions that I’m jus’ some wallflower who ain’t gonna’ say nothin’. Ya’ people got some ‘expectations’, just like everybody else in this universe. Ya’ think I haven’t had to clash with ‘expectations’ before?”

She ‘huffed’ and shuffled closer to the top of the bed before reaching out a hand to hold his chin between her large fingers.

“If I didn’t want to see ya’, I wouldn’t see ya’. If ya’ want to see me, I want ya’ to come see me. And there ain’t nothing anyone else is gonna’ say or do that’s gonna’ change this.”

She released him after making her point and looked away.

“…’Expectations’ my ass. Thought I got away from all that nonsense...” She mumbled to the empty ward.

“So… we’re, okay?” Pip asked, he was stunned she would not only disregard any issue but made him feel slightly put out for attempting to assume the responsibility over the matter.

“I’m frustrated Hun’, but all this has done is tell me that I need to get ya’ home and teach you properly; just how much ya’ mean to me, ya’ daft thing.” She said with a smile as she gazed back to him, putting an elbow on his bed whilst resting her chin in her hand. Her other hand came round and gently ran over his body over the thin covers.

“I think we need to start addressing things directly, no more beatin’ round the bush. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” Squeaked Pip.

She leaned forwards, her face now dominated his vision. The soft closing of her eyes prompted Pip to do the same as his arms reached up to cup her face as her fingers curled around the back of his head with her nails scratching through his fur. Her lips touched his and whilst her bottom lip gently pressed against his own, her top lip brushed and pressed against his nose due to the difference in their sizes.

His world was one of softness and peppermint. This is what ‘heaven’ had to be like.

===

The journey back to his dorm was uneventful, but while he packed a bag for a stay away at Natasha’s Geegee was beside himself at the idea that Pip ‘hadn’t learnt his lesson’. Pip rolled his eyes and ignored him.

He understood his opinion, it took a verbal slap from Natasha for Pip to also give up on the social contract himself, he’d just wait for the geckin to come round and begin talking to Pip again. He vowed to be there for him when or if he did.

Once they got back to Natasha’s, Pip’s things were placed on the desk while Natasha whisked him off his feet and landed on the bed; laying on top of him and assaulting him again with wet kisses, some pecks and others lingered. He returned the favour; Natasha could feel the small wet pecks across her skin as he tried to match her ferocity.

“Hun’, I hope ya’ ready; because I’ve been waiting to eat ya’ up whole since ya’ walked into my Café.”

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #chintian #haso #hfy #humans are space orcs #Trigger Warning: Violence #chipmunk #size difference #sizeplay #sizetumblr

[bloody-teared-angel]

As promised, here's the post - a lot if it will be taken out of comics, movies and visual dictionary and me speculating. I'm open to civil discussion about this since Neytiri is fan favorite and a lot of people can find excuses for everything she does.

Neytiri is very stubborn individual and who also hates change - reason for it being her trauma - it explains her behavior but does not excuse it.

For Neytiri, change always meant something bad, arrival of RDA, death of Sylwanin and her father, destruction of hometree and death of Tsu'tey.

And yet, it also brought her positives, Jake, Grace and her children. It gave her a new family.

But due to her stubbornness and refusal to accept change, Neytiri can't accept Spider and to some extent, the scientists - Jake talked to Mo'at to let Norm and Grace in and she accepted, perhaps also due to the fact she and Grace were friends and is more willing to accept change (perhaps a separate post about Mo'at later) - she associates humans with only the bad things, which leads to Jake and Neytiri having arguments and not seeing eye to eye, which Neytiri loses due to Mo'at siding with Jake.

Neytiri refuses to look past the trauma - no, she buried it along with Jake's human body and refuses to talk about it - my reasoning for this is that I haven't seen any evidence of the kids knowing something about Earth or the past of what happened, Lo'ak only saying that his father came from a star and that's it. (Grace's video logs do not count, since she's a scientist and talks about her discoveries on Pandora)

I have a bad time explaining things and the best thing for me is to give examples.

First things first, Spider. Spider is the son of Quaritch and Paz, Quaritch being the main bad guy and the source of all the destruction and grief and he has a son who was born on Pandora and grew up there - adapting to the Na'Vi way of life and learning their traditions and respecting them, something Quaritch didn't do.

This would be a positive change but no. Neytiri does not see it that way - in the comics, when Jake talks about 'Sins of the father' regarding Spider and Neytiri answers 'So we wait until he does something.' And she does. She waits and waits, watching Spider like a hawk and at the first moment she can, she leaves him to the wolves. And Jake doesn't try to talk to her either, more or less, he lets her drown in hatred.

(Her letting her children play with Spider doesn't count, since Lo'ak and Kiri are stubborn enough to sneak out and Kiri loves Spider more for her to risk her life to save him, so Neytiri saying 'No', wouldn't do much)

Then there's the arrival at the Metkayina. When Ronal points out that Kiri and Lo'ak are not even true Na'Vi, Neytiri seems more shocked than offended that someone would or even dared to bring it up that her children are mixed. And what brings me to my speculation is what she says next: 'My husband was Toruk Makto.'

Now, I understand that Neytiri wanted to remind them that Jake was a legend and a great warrior, she could've used different tactic. When Jake brings up the fact that he also has five fingers, Neytiri could back him along the lines of: 'Yes, they have demon blood. But my husband came to us blind, like a child not knowing anything and he was taught. Adapted. He learned the ways of Eywa and the Omatikaya, which made him a great warrior and a leader.' Perhaps then she could bring up the fact he was chosen by Toruk.

For Neytiri, nothing before Jake becoming Toruk Makto exists because she refuses to face it, that's how she copes. Throw everything behind you and don't speak of it. Ignore it.

Now I want to come to the first movie.

When Neytiri and Jake become mated for life (I'll also be using a deleted scene). Jake was an escape for her. She didn't want to be mated to Tsu'tey nor did she wanted to become a tsakarem, so her being mated to Jake was an escape for her - and she didn't care who was being hurt in the process by defying tradition. Tsu'tey talks about how ever since Jake came in, everything was falling apart and it was true.

Neytiri, as someone who talks about tradition and staying true to her people, she's the one who defying it the most when it suits her.

'Out! You have done nothing!' I understand Neytiri was being worried about Kiri but she also showed that she has no trust in Norm and Max. She could have said: 'Out! Let Ronal work!'

Speculation and perhaps spoilers for A3:

Neytiri's resolution to everything is to, fight, kill, bury it, do not talk about it.

And with the leaked image for A3, what if Neytiri joined the Ash clan for a short while because they would convince her that they would rid Pandora of humans completely. Make them pay.

And perhaps, later, she sees that not all humans are bad, that they are helping other Na'Vi and Pandora or perhaps her children when they are held captive.

If I missed anything or something is not clear, feel free to hit me up, I'm thinking as I'm writing.

#angel speaks #avatar #avatar twow #avatar the way of water #spider socorro #neytiri #jake sully #kiri #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #avatar 2009 #james cameron avatar #very long post #long post #i love Neytiri #i really do #but this is her biggest weakness

[that-ari-blogger]

Witch Side Are They On? (Young Blood, Old Souls)

Hero and villain are nebulous terms, the definitions of which can be taken to mean literally any character. Although, almost everyone knows one when they see one. It's a vibes based classification. Nobody is trying to argue that The Joker is a paragon hero (except some people), for example.

Certain characters break from the mould, with some protagonists displaying more morally challenged motivations or methods, some villains being redeemed, and some "morally grey" heroes ending up being written as power fantasies and you can usually tell when that happens.

I find the classification of characters rather redundant, as people have a habit of being complex. Sure, I have met people who fit stereotypes to a tea, but they are the exception not the rule, and the more you get to know someone, the less tropey they seem to you.

So, instead, I would like to examine the actions that The Owl House frames as evil, as well as the point at which the series decides a character is no longer redeemable.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (The Owl House)

Because good and bad are subjective, and this is the internet, I am going to define heroic and villainous actions in this context as "behaviours that The Owl House presents as desirable and undesirable" respectively. Knowledge, expression and kindness are heroic in this context, and willful ignorance, cruelty, and repression are villainous. Ok?

These themes are really well emphasised by the light and dark motif going on. Luz's name literally means light, and she is very much associated with that concept through her magic.

Compare that to Belos, who has managed to spend the entirety of the series up to this point either in literal shadows or figurative ones. We haven't seen him outside in the daylight; we haven't even seen what he looks like yet. The man exists in darkness.

What I mean by this, is light reveals, shadows conceal. A light can bring hope, show you the way out, or let you glimpse the beauty of an artwork, if someone keeps you in darkness, your eyes will adjust eventually, but you won't be seeing the full thing.

Now, here's a question: what exactly is Lilith's motivation? The flashback gives her a history, and shows her actions and sacrifices, but it doesn't redeem her by any stretch of the imagination.

Lilith made a sacrifice for power. She has been chasing Eda because of Belos, and we will get to that. But the curse was her own misdeed, and I think its fascinating how the concept of willful ignorance plays into that.

"I thought it would just be for a day."

Now, I don't know what was on that scroll. Maybe it came with a sticky note that says, "guaranteed 24-hour magic removal or your money back". But, it takes some serious mental gymnastics to decide that the thing you wanted to do because you wanted to do it with someone was worth sacrificing that someone to achieve.

And when the curse turned Eda into the beast, it never occurred to Lilith to tell anyone. I think providing evidence of the magic that caused it might have helped to fix it, but Lilith kept it a secret.

Also, if you see a system that outcasts your closest family member and TURNS PEOPLE IT DOESN'T LIKE TO STONE, and you devote yourself to upholding that system "because of all the good it does", you are deliberately ignoring some major factors.

So, Lilith engages with the theme on two fronts, she keeps the world in the dark about her own actions, and she actively ignores things about the world she is in, and that is the key here. Lilith is presented as highly intelligent and rational, but someone the clever should surely notice some things that she very much doesn't. Which leads me to believe that she is either unintelligent and rational, or intelligent and irrational.

I don't think Lilith is a villain in the series, entirely. I think she is an antagonist, and thematically opposed to the heroes. But the motivation for the specific acts of antagonism are, fundamentally, altruistic. She wants to heal her sister. The problem is that being motivated by guilt and compassion doesn't square with the actions she has taken to get to this position. So naturally, she ignores the incongruities until she runs face first into them, and her redemption comes later through her actions and decisions to seek out and understand.

Belos plays an interesting role in this as well. I mentioned in my previous post that Belos manipulates her agency out from underneath her, and I stand by that here for two reasons. 1) Belos is the system she has bought into. He has directly and intentionally, through propaganda, convinced a world that wild magic is bad and that sacrifices must be made. 2) He found a woman who was conflicted about her actions and saw a way to get rid of the most powerful witch in the boiling isles.

So, Belos too features the theme of wilful ignorance, imposing it on the boiling isles, and making use of Lilith's blind spot to further his own goals.

I've mentioned Belos' restriction of expression in the past multiple times, but there is one more of the core themes that the emperor engages with, and I think the way in which he does that is rather funny. Belos is cruel, and it is constantly tripping him up.

So, what spur's Lilith's redemption? She gets shown her actions are wrong immediately after performing them, so it can't be realisation. So, what is it that prompts her to reconsider her life choices? What causes the leader of the coven heads to bail? Lilith backs out of the coven system because Belos is a jerk.

Belos could have kept the manipulation going. He could have said that he tried and failed to heal Eda's curse. He could have said that Eda attacked him and left him no choice. But instead, he decided to gloat.

"Ah, taking her to the healing ceremony?" "I will not be healing her." "But, you, promised me." "Don't be so naïve, Lilith."

This isn't even the only time the man's desire to gloat self-sabotages him in this episode. So, let's get to that fight scene.

"Okay, I'll play."

I feel the need to point out that Belos wins the fight part of this scene hands down. I recommend UnholyBasil's excellent video on this scene, but suffice to say, anyone with the power to instantly quadruple the animation budget for a moment is a terrifying threat, and Belos is definitely that.

Up until now, the emperor was just an ideological roadblock. The antagonist has been the coven system and the Emperor's Coven that want to restrict magic. Belos has simply been the guy at the head, the one Luz must symbolically defeat.

But now, Belos barely has to lift a finger, and Luz is on the back foot. She can't even touch him. And that is the key to why the ending of the fight is so cool. Belos is untouchable, emotionally and physically, so Luz does both. She puts a crack in his armour, not enough to defeat him, but enough to break the facade he has put up and make him look like an Undertale character.

Remember what I said about self-sabotage? Well, it happens again here. Here is someone who is trying to kill Belos, someone with magic that he has seen. And he decides to waltz up to her and present his face as a target, just because he wants to needle at her mind, the man would have succeeded had he been intelligent.

That is my takeaway from Belos. He is an eejit with delusions of grandeur. Don't get me wrong, the man is a decent manipulator, but his inability to look past himself and his need to be cruel repeatedly puts a dampener on his whole mastermind shtick.

Also, he didn't think to check for the obvious glyphs on the side of the suitcase he was given, he just assumed he had won and didn't feel the need to make sure. Are we sure this guy is clever and not just charismatic?

Now, I haven't talked about Luz or Eda much, and I think it's time to rectify that.

Lilith's character design is a mirror of her sister's. She is restricted in her dress, and perfectly symmetrical. Eda meanwhile is unkempt and wild, with the torn outfit making her look unbalanced and volatile.

The Clawthorn sisters also have a Red Oni, Blue Oni motif going on between them, a trope about characters with a duality to them that has shades of colour symbolism and mythology thrown in for spice.

According to TV Tropes:

"The Red Oni is associated with passion, wildness, and defiance. The red oni character is often more brawny than brainy, extroverted, enthusiastic, determined, and filled with a zest for life. They are also much more likely to break conventions and rules than their counterpart."

Meanwhile:

"The Blue Oni is associated with serenity, control, and observing authority. A Blue Oni is more intellectual, proud, traditional, introverted, and cultured."

I those two don't sum up Eda and Lilith respectively, I don't know what does. And if you have been paying attention, the colour symbolism there appears in the designs of the two. Lilith bears more cool colours, with the blueish hair, eyes, and gem, while Eda scraps all subtlety and just wears red and orange.

So, Eda and Lilith represent two ends of the spectrum, chaotic and lawful. But its notable that when Lilith gets redeemed, she doesn't lose the logical, heavily rationalised mindset, she loses the restrictions. She ends up being free to be whomever she wants, and that person doesn't have to be as overtly wild as her sister.

Luz and Belos, however, are extremely similar characters, with one Luz and Belos, however, are extremely similar characters, with one main difference. One is kind, one is cruel. In terms of character mechanics (how they approach problems), that is the main difference. The rest of their actions come as a result of this dichotomy. Both have a form of main character syndrome, for example, but where Luz wants an adventure and to save the world, Belos wants to remake the world in his own image.

I'm not saying they are identical, or that they are the same character, I am saying that they are similar except for the most fundamental of points, derived from this difference of kindness vs cruelty. All of the lessons that Luz learns but Belos ignores, come from selflessness, all the differences come from expanding out this over and over again until you get a hero and a megalomaniac.

They are both charisma-based artificers, but they have different alignments, and that has led to them making different choices, and leading different stories that have clashed with each other. They started in a similar place, but because of the one difference, their paths diverged wildly.

Final Thoughts

Belos is a villain who would be right at home with Wiley Coyote if he wasn't so terrifying and megalomaniacal, because he cannot stop bringing about his own downfall in spectacular fashion.

I wanted to find the Tolkien quote about evil destroying itself for this post, but instead I found something that sums up The Owl House really well.

"You have to understand the good in things, to detect the real evil."

Tolkien was a man who fought in both the first and second World Wars, including the battle of the Somme, and yet he was a profoundly optimistic man, as well as being a realist. His most famous work is about someone small accomplishing a great thing against all the odds because evil cannot comprehend the simple acts of kindness.

That, transformed by generations of nerds, has resulted in The Owl House, where a villain, by dint of being clad in gold, can only shine by reflecting the light of the protagonist. And he cannot comprehend the simple kindness of community, and harmony.

Light, do not faulter.

Next week, I am diving straight into the next season, with Separate Tides, and the introduction of the woobie, so stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #character analysis #what's so special about...? #the owl house #toh #toh belos #the owl house belos #emperor belos #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #toh lilith #young blood old souls

[levmada]

Thank you for responding!

I just remembered another question, you may have broached this topic as well, but I've seen a couple posts floating around that suggest Levi is (on some levels) illiterate.

Personally I don't think current canon Levi is illiterate, but what about Levi in the Underground? There's manga evidence (I believe) that he was at least somewhat exposed to reading (I think I saw a photo of him with Isabel and Furlan with a bookshelf in the background..??).

I can't imagine Kenny advocating for reading when learning survival tactics would be more important by his standards. I think the ability to read is something else that connects Levi to his mother (I haven't see much of anything that would suggest she was a reader), or it was simply a roundabout way of learning another survival skill? ("Knowledge is power"? I.e. having more power over his fate/current situation).

Some of these posts go on to assume the illiteracy spills over into how he writes reports (and that supposedly Hange has to either help him or redo them entirely)

I was curious about how you believe Levi would've approached literacy in his early years.

ugh i’ve gone back and forth on this a couple times😩😩in most of my fics, levi is illiterate when he reaches the surface.

at least, as captain, we know there’s NO WAY he’s illiterate in the present. (and besides, he's seen reading the newspaper in s3 at the end of the uprising. and the labels/books in the basement later).

for a canon reference, it’s said in a smartpass that levi diligently practices his handwriting so that no one knows he’s from the underground. that he has “newspaper level” handwriting. he gets defensive towards Petra when she compliments it😭

you’re absolutely right about the backgrounds. here’s some examples:

clearly farlan knew what he was doing at least😭😭both in the anime and manga, it’s eluded to that farlan is like the ‘co-leader’ that takes care of the money and logistics side of things.

it’s not clear whether levi touches any of that. he IS good (at least competent?) at math though, again like farlan; he did a bit of complex addition in a few seconds.

(sorry i’m just taking the opportunity to post acwnr panels atp…)

math is definitely more important than reading and writing in the underground right? i think the bare minimum reading ability would’ve rubbed off on levi.

KENNY however most definitely didn’t concern levi with that. i mean…😭

i’ve never heard or seen anything connecting kuchel to reading?? pls lmk where you heard that if you don’t mind!! i’m curious.

anyway, it’s canon that levi “learned many things” from erwin around this time of which i must imagine had to do with desk work, knowing levi’s life up to then.

(the account associated with that info has, frustratingly, been deleted since i posted it. i’ll go looking if anyone wants the source)

i’ve never heard the tidbit about hange helping levi with his reports either.

i severely doubt it's real. there’s so many “”””facts”””” out there in the aot fandom, recently i made a long post debunking many and after days of research it’s RLY begun to grind my gears. why can’t this fandom be normal😭that ‘fact’ also sounds like it has shipping reasons behind it, like many others…

anyway, all that said, i do think he was on some level illiterate before reaching the surface.

it’s a mystery for now… but i don’t think kuchel knew how to read. kenny didn’t teach him because it paled in comparison in importance compared to fighting, his image, and so on. if levi could recognize letters grouped together, for instance the names of bars, that was enough.

he picked up on basic math along the way, until farlan came along and it became very important to understand numbers - especially as far as income goes. if not for the sake of the, uh, business levi/farlan were running, in the anime, they were saving up money to go live on the surface with.

((((personal hc but)))) despite his talents, shadis never so much as promoted levi to squad leader during his time as commander. he was too stubborn and stuck in his ways, unable to get past the fact that levi was a thug, and yet had more skill than even their strongest soldier (mike).

when erwin was promoted from captain to commander, he gave levi his position immediately. (which honestly pissed levi off, since he didn’t like the idea of having the lives of a personal squad on his hands…. besides the reading and writing issue.)

erwin would go on to teach levi how to read and write, which levi would go on to master on his own. levi, it seems to me, is the type of person who masters everything he tries, and so with practice and determination, he learns quickly….

you can definitely say he overcompensates because he hates for people to know he’s from the underground. not because of the insults personally, but because it would hurt the SC’s image if captain levi was found out to be a thug before, yk?

that’s my take :)

#levi ackerman hc #levi aot #snk levi #levi snk #captain levi #levi hc #aot hc #levi ackerman headcanons #attack on titan hc #levi rivaille #rivaille ackerman #rivaille heichou

[smolmakerel]

I decided to do it. I'm writing a full story. Let's hope I can complete it. 😂

Edit: I have a name for this au.

Home on the Range

Part(s) 1 . 2 .

■■■■■

“Mami?”

“Tara, I really don't want to hear your excuses anymore.”

Tara sunk down in her seat, shoulders up to her ears in shame. Her rumpled clothing pressed uncomfortably around her skin, no doubt leaving behind the indent of the inseam of her clothing. She gave a small tug at her shirt collar and wrinkled her nose at the pungent vodka dried into the fabric.

She took a glance at her mamá and ducked her head to keep from catching her eyes. Her face was carefully set, her eyes staring at the empty chair across from them. Her silence was loud, Tara was uncomfortable.

“You just had to go out after I specifically told you not to. Do you know what something like that does to this family?”

Tara scoffed, anger rising. “What family?”

The squeak she let out was of fear when Mamá snapped her head to the side to glare daggers at her.

“Don't talk to your mother that way,” Mamá snapped. “You don't get to talk to me like that after all I've done for you.”

Tara felt a flare of pride, or maybe it was remaining liquid courage. Either way, she was unfiltered and wading towards the danger zone rapidly.

“You haven't done anything for me! Look at where we are! You think this is what you call good parenting?!”

Mamá's face grew red. Before she could yell some more or worse, hit Tara, the door opened and a man in sleek khaki dress pants, white button up shirt, and a loud green tie stepped into the room. He barely paid the two women any attention before sitting down at the empty chair.

“I've looked at your case,” the lawyer started slowly, and Tara and her mom shared a look. “The police want to charge you for driving under the influence. Now, from what I've seen evidence-wise, your fingerprints weren't on that tank of gas, so arson won't be added to your charges.”

Tara let out a sigh of relief.

“But that doesn't mean the other charge is going to drop.”

Mamá hummed. She twisted the ring on her thumb slowly, intimately. It was nauseating.

“What are our options?” Mamá asked sharply. Tara flinched despite herself.

He sighed. “If you plead not guilty, you'll end up serving time in the county jail before being moved to a state prison. CCTV footage shows you and your friend leaving that building intoxicated and you getting in the driver's seat. And the police didn't like a fellow policeman's daughter being involved with troubled youths; especially one who supposedly set fire to that same building. Luckily everyone inside was okay.”

Tara winced. No, that's… They've got it all wrong.

“The jury won't appreciate the raw evidence contradicting what you said. You're not guilty? They won't believe you,” he said. Leaning forward, he rested his chin on her folded hands. “I have another option.”

Mamá sighed. “Out with it, then, I don't have all day.”

Tara rolled her eyes. This was probably the first time she's been decently sober in years, she's probably having spasms.

“You plead guilty.”

Tara froze. Mamá froze. The lawyer stared cooly at the 2 women processing this information.

It should be funny but it's not. Innocent little Tara Carpenter arrested and charged with a DUI and probably arson, too, managing to escape the actual fire but not the police. Graduated top of her class as valedictorian, shoved down to the bottom to grovel for mercy.

She was no better than her.

Tara grit her teeth at the mere thought of her.

“I will not have a daughter with a criminal record!” Mamá stood suddenly in anger. Her chair screeched and clattered back to the floor. “She's 18, she can deal with it herself!”

Fear filled Tara's body. “No, Mamá, please don't leave!” She turned back to the blank lawyer and shook. “Tell - Tell me what would happen if I plead guilty. Please.”

He quirked his lip. “You take a hit to your record, of course, but it can be requested to be expunged later down the line should you take probation seriously.” He waited for Tara's hurried nod before continuing. “You will stay in county jail for 5 days before being let out on probation in compliance with California's laws.”

Tara looked at her mamá, but the woman stood where she was with her arms crossed and face hardened. Swallowing, the teenager turned back to the lawyer.

“A-and the laws are..?”

The lawyer tutted, eyed her with distaste. “18 and you don't know the laws of your state?” Tara fought back her scowl. This lawyer was the worst. “For the entirety of your probation, you will need to be near this city where the sentencing will take place. I assume you live close by?”

… Oh. Oh no. Mamá was going to kill her for real.

Mamá set her hands on the table. “No, I don't. But…” Tara jolted at the word, confusion growing. “I do have someone just thirty minutes north of here with decent traffic. She lives on a farm by herself, but I'm sure she'd be glad to help out.”

Tara shakily breathed while the older adults were speaking.

What was her mamá talking about? Since when did she know some strange farm woman nearly 3 hours away from Woodsboro? She hoped it wasn't another Tía Isabel who she was pretty sure wasn't actually related to her.

“There is one more condition.”

“What is it?” Tara warily asked.

The lawyer smiled.

#I'm trying something new lol #I'm not an expert at the californian state laws so I decided to read up and then bend them a bit #For the plot to happen #scream #scream au #scream 2022 #scream vi #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #my writing #au: home on the range