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#it’s just my own sheer inability to take control of it and live in it
urbanfiltered · 3 months
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darsynia · 1 year
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(HP; Remus Lupin Character Study)
I'll be posting more MCU than not, I think, but I wanted to get this one out there. It's genfic character study, so pretty niche, and not my typical fare. I just love him.
My Masterlist
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Summary: Professor Lupin reflects on his life while looking at the Whomping Willow
Length: 1,619
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dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics
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He sat and stared at it, watching the branches twitch and sway as though a furious gale were howling through them, but the grass in which he sat hinted at the true story. The long green tendrils showed no indication of wind; indeed, Remus couldn't hear or see any signs of life except for the large, gnarly tree several meters in front of him. The tree had a life of its own, a destructive one at that... and it had been planted there because of him.
Lupin had never done this, had never taken the time to actually examine the Whomping Willow. During his years as a student, he'd never appreciated its existence, only saw the thing as a painful reminder of what made him different from his friends. Remus had loathed the seemingly malicious plant with increasing intensity as they both had grown older, and the image of the tree silhouetted against the forest at sunset was practically seared into his memory after so many trips from the castle at dusk. He couldn't help seeing it as a mocking symbol of a peaceful creature corrupted into a blind, vicious thing, exactly as he'd seen himself before the potion. His hatred of it had eventually begun to heal when the three friends closest to him bridged the gap between man and beast, providing Remus with an amazing affirmation of their caring for him, while having risked their lives in the process.
He smiled ruefully. James in particular had loved those kinds of grandiose gestures, and that had been the one to top them all.
Remus thought there was a kind of aching poetry to the night as he sat cross-legged and motionless in the grass. This was the very spot that Prongs used to pose dangerously in the moonlight, his front hooves clawing at the air while the full moon traced the shadow of his glorious antlers. It had all been sheer madness really, and not just their irresponsible adventures but the risks that they took in acting on them as well. They should have been caught, either from the dangerous trips the four of them took into the Forbidden Forest or Potter's inability to resist transforming on the very grounds of Hogwarts (knowing full well what the penalties were for being an unregistered Animagi). Peter's descriptions of the stag had been so lavish, and James' boasting had piqued such interest that Remus had begged Madam Pomfrey to take him down to the Willow an hour early one evening late in their sixth year. He'd persuaded her he wanted to grab what little sleep he could-- but in reality he'd snuck down along the passageway under the Willow, hoping to catch a glimpse of James before the moon's rays could rob him of full consciousness.
He'd never told them, of course. He'd never let the three of them know of his battles for control, how he would lay awake in bed begging the powers that be for just one night after which he could remember everything. All three of them had worked so hard and been so eager to give him a reason not to hate the full moon... and they had mostly succeeded , Lupin thought to himself with grim irony. He had stopped dreading the moon, at least, much less than he dreaded the next day's recap. The three illegal animagi would go over how much fun they'd had while he would sift through his own blurred sense-memory looking for correlations.
The Willow's leaves rustled in the growing wind, and as the rushing air eddied at the foot of the huge trunk, Remus just barely spied the knothole that Dumbledore had spelled to render the tree immobile. In a burst of melancholy, he wondered if there were still tiny rat footprints on it. Those footprints, the only remnants of a life cut short by betrayal. He supposed that there probably were, as no one had any use for or even knew of the hidden passageway beneath the Whomping Willow, and no student, not even a Gryffindor, would be brave enough to explore its trunk just for kicks.
Remus sighed and leaned back, his emotions warring within himself as he thought about Peter. Part of him wanted to experience the painful memories, to open that newly blocked part of his heart and let the brisk wind that rushed across the grounds act as a salve, but another part of him wanted to shut it away. With that pain came the fact of the twelve years of thinking that Sirius had been the betrayer. He wanted to hate Peter for that, for taking away all of them in a single night, for forcing them to think of an innocent man as a killer, and the killer a martyr.
Remus decided that there wasn't a wind that had ever blown on the campus of Hogwarts that could ease the wounds caused by that line of thinking. What did it mean that he had been on the outside of those events, he, the only Ministry-classified 'monster' of the group?
Lupin shifted his position slightly, his muscles groaning and his new wounds aching. He was surprised to find that the day after an actual transformation wasn't as painful as he'd remembered. The Wolfsbane Potion had literally changed his life. He had job opportunities, living quarters, changed social circumstances, but Remus had expected to see himself differently. For the first time in his adult life, he didn't turn into the boogeyman under the bed, the Lamia out to eat innocent children... but it had only changed the way others saw him.
This had been crushing, the realization that he still felt like a werewolf even without the unaltered transformation.
A soft rustling sound penetrated his reverie, and Remus lifted his head to see a tabby cat with unusual markings around the eyes pick its way primly across the grass in his direction. He made no move, knowing that by approaching him in this way, his colleague was offering him a strange sort of condolence. She had to know by now that his friends had studied under her very nose to become illegally what she was by gift of talent.
The cat made no move to pause as she walked directly up to him and brushed her head gently against his hand, just once. Remus held himself completely still except for his head as he nodded gravely to her, his eyes misting over with unshed tears. Minerva McGonagall moved past him, her tail held rigidly straight. He knew that it wouldn't be long before she shifted back to her human form, and he waited to hear her stern voice chastise him for sitting in the wet grass alone in the middle of the night.
"Have you made peace with it?" she asked instead, her tone more compassionate than he'd expected. Remus wasn't sure whether she was referring to the tree, his unexpected transformation the night before, or the sudden and surprising news of Sirius' innocence and Peter's guilt. It didn't really matter, however. His answer was the same for all three.
"I don't know if I ever can," he said simply.
"There's no peace to be made with grief, Remus," Minerva said, and he was glad she had remained behind him, for he was no longer able to contain the quiet tears that coursed down his face to land on his arm. The salt stung in the scratches he'd inflicted on himself as a werewolf the night before, but he let them fall, relishing the pain as part of the punishment for his carelessness in forgetting the potion.
"I know it might sound strange to you, but I've always viewed that tree as a symbol of victory," she said, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind. "After every short-sighted proclamation issued from the Ministry, every inane question owled to the Headmaster from the Minister for Magic, I've gone to a window and looked at the Willow and smiled."
He turned to look at her then, touched to the quick at the look of fierce happiness on her face as she stared at the tree thrashing its branches wildly into the night sky. He knew she expected him to ask her for an explanation, but he just waited. After a moment, she shifted her gaze to his and her eyes blazed with the sort of mischief he would have expected from Albus, or James.
"Because you came first, Remus. Not the Department of Magical Creatures, not the Werewolf Registry-- a small boy who needed an education got one, come hell or high water," McGonagall said defiantly. "Children shouldn't have to be held accountable for what happens to them," she added a beat later with a deep sigh. Lupin caught her meaning instantly.
"Harry hates his aunt and uncle's house as well," he mused.
"The Muggles have a saying," the older woman said. "'One man's trash is another man's treasure.' It's all about perspective."
"Neither of us are likely to treasure--" he began, but she cut him off brusquely.
"Don't discard the memories with the rest of the rubbish, Remus. That's all I'm saying," Minerva said in a strangely tender voice, squeezing his shoulder tightly as she walked past him toward the castle.
The dew had already formed on the ground around him before Remus Lupin was ready to get up and follow his colleague into the building. As he did so, the werewolf turned and watched the sun's first morning rays strike the tops of the trees around him. It had been the first time he'd watched the sunset from the perspective of the grounds just outside the Whomping Willow in fifteen years.
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i saw your post about Charles and what his personality past and part in the story line so i was wondering if u could do the same for vlad? :)
Ah, well, I can at least let you know what I’ve seen so far? I haven’t delved too far into Vlad, and some of his general impressions can be confusing, so I’ll do my best to make it sensible and unbiased! Here you go lovely <33333
Fair warning, there will be mentions of a lot of JPN app content since Vlad and his boys aren’t around much in the ENG app yet.
My general sense of Vlad is basically discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha.
What I mean by this is to say–according to what I’ve read so far–his clan/family were murdered by vampire hunters in cold blood when he was just a young boy. Presumably as a result of that traumatic event, he harbors a sizable enmity towards humanity and kind of lashes out on them in weirdly specific moments of violence. Another aspect of his motivation is something that’s mentioned within Comte’s route; which is that Vlad went through the timespace door on his own one day and allegedly saw a devastated future, where nothing remains of life on earth more or less.
I guess the reason I find him to be so perplexing is that he speaks about his actions in terms of efficiency, while most of the things he does just feel like unhappy outbursts (v often a product of unresolved trauma symptoms, I’d wager.) I also say this because he appears to have no larger pattern to his fury beyond the original event of his loss. Most of the human beings he attacks aren’t much of a threat to him and hurting them really doesn’t bring him any dividends beyond revenge.
For instance, he insists his disdain for humanity and insistence on controlling them is for the sake of ensuring they do not destroy the future–the horrifying wasteland he witnessed when he traveled through the timespace door. However, I’m not really sure how his current movements really speak to that goal? I mean sure, maybe he’s relying on Faust to create an immortal human so that humans will be forced to care because it will be their future too, but he doesn’t allow Faust to draw his pureblood blood for experimenting. (One can most certainly argue this was more about a lack of trust, and perhaps for plenty reason: Faust is vindictive enough to try to turn the tables and exert control over Vlad, or act on his own whims with his findings.) But if that’s the solution he’s waiting on, turning the rivals of the men in the mansion doesn’t really bring him any closer to that vision either? I mean, what good does it do to bring back Gilles de Rais–a prominent French serial killer? How would unleashing him on the populace help humanity “realize the error of it’s short-sighted and wasteful ways” and move to a brighter future?
Can’t help it, I ask these questions as I read.
In Comte’s main story, Comte hammers home that Vlad is not somebody to be taken lightly. One day when MC goes out to buy flowers, Vlad poses as a human florist to sell them to her–which is how Comte finds out he’s in France, and that he’s made contact with MC. When prompted, Comte describes him in a very particular way; and I think people really overlook this when they talk about their relationship. He says that Vlad is frighteningly pure in terms of the way he thinks and acts. The way I understood his description (given what I’ve seen of Vlad) is that Comte really does mean it point blank: Vlad is very simple in terms of why and how he does things. The issue with this is that nuance and context are lost on Vlad as well–and that’s where the problems start to flood in. Vlad is angry at humanity for what they’ve done to him. Baseline? That’s fair, they killed his damn family. However, Vlad thinks that by extension he has the right to decimate the general public and attack people completely uninvolved in his hurt.
And that isn’t right either–it’s ignoring so many factors here. He’s ignoring how much vampires use and toy with humans as pawns, it’s ignoring the massive power imbalance between him and his victims (this really isn’t a case of self-defense most of the time, nobody but Comte/Leo is a sizable threat to him), and he’s ignoring whether or not a person even did anything to deserve his retributive violence. While murder is never okay, it is perhaps more understandable when we see Jeanne’s frenzied and violent belligerence in response to a man who murders a boy’s mother for the sake of his own amusement/convenience. Vlad literally sees almost every single one of the rivals he created begin to heal/improve and murders them in cold blood because they are no longer of any use to him. That’s uh……..that’s a little messed, not gonna lie to you chief.
While part of me understands the efficiency here–he doesn’t want to leave any traces of his involvement, he doesn’t want any loose ends–it’s also just kind of foolish and cruel ultimately. From my understanding of the narrative, all the people he turned had some visible sign that indicated their origin to Comte. So even if he claims it was for the sake of concealment, it was more likely about his personal convenience. Which…..also yikes.
[Comte clearly does not trust Vlad to be reasonable, and I think there’s plenty of good reason enumerated above, but I actually don’t sense quite so much hatred? I think he’s just given up on the idea of Vlad growing up, even if he doesn’t like giving up on people. And considering Vlad’s behavior, I think it’s overkill to say that Comte just abandons him because he doesn’t care lmao. Even when Comte expresses real anger at the end of his own route, it was more because Vlad was fine with endangering MC’s life just to get back at him. I think Comte’s unhappiness with Vlad has more to do with Vlad’s treatment of human life as meaningless and worthless. It’s fascinating but also kind of sad? Vlad’s traumatic experience results in behavior that is a direct exacerbation of Comte’s trauma, and as such--no matter their potentially fond history--they can’t stomach each other.]
In Comte’s route, Vlad also has Shakespeare abduct MC and take her to the cathedral. Later on in the castle, we see an immediate display of Vlad’s shocking powers: he has the ability to manipulate people’s desires/thoughts. I’m not exactly sure how this works, but he is able to give MC visions of the mansion and Comte coming on to her–which shocks her into realizing it’s all just a dream. It’s not reality; it’s all manufactured by Vlad.
After that...weird introductory note...Vlad gives MC the rundown on his life together with Comte, which as always is subject to a question of bias. My assumption is that he did not lie, only because he was trying to convince MC that he was “right.” Furthermore, he does not omit the most damning evidence of his erroneous judgement, which suggests a continued inability for him to see where he went wrong.
We get a series of three flashbacks. The first is them as young kids. I don’t know if Vlad had already experienced the horrors of his family being destroyed, but this particular flashback focuses on Comte. His parents, in an effort to teach him that vampires and humans have no ability to co-exist, send away all of his teachers/mentors/nannies/the servants--pretty much everyone and anyone he was closely bonded to. Think about it this way: we can see that Comte is very sociable and affectionate by nature. He was living in a house full of people, all of whom cared about him and looked after him in their own way. Now the house is entirely empty. Naturally Comte is very very upset, and Vlad appears to try to cheer him up with little success. 
[When I look back on this scene I don’t think I initially registered the sheer dissonance of Vlad’s reaction, versus Comte’s catatonic misery. There was a very solemn feeling to that memory, and the correct choice in terms of extending comfort is to hold his hand believe it or not. There is a sense that he feels very alone. When young boy Vlad enters one can argue that it was the proper thing to do; he was trying to cheer up his playmate and friend. But at the same time, I think I need to double check. Because I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong. What if Vlad was happy to see someone as alone as him, and that joy is accordingly dissonant for that reason? He can’t see what Comte needs or how he’s hurting because he’s so glad he isn’t alone anymore in a way.]
The second flashback is the war nurse scene that I have spoken at length about. The important thing to focus on here is Vlad’s surprise that Comte would opt out of turning her out of respect for her wishes. The way Vlad frames the situation is starkly different from Comte’s. Comte sees himself as an outsider, somebody who invaded her life as a result of the timespace door and therefore has no right to suddenly change the course of her fate. He had no idea if she even wanted to live (considering the horrors she’d have to cope with and remember) or leave that time period at all, for that matter (considering the only thing keeping her going was helping the wounded/victims). Comte really was listening to everything she had to say, and he was taking her concerns and motivations seriously. 
Vlad simply says: if you want her, take her. It’s as simple as that for him. And in one way that’s not entirely wrong--assuming Comte would have every intention of looking after her and actually cares a lot about her. But what’s being ignored here is her agency and the fact that they really don’t know each other that well? Something like that could begin and be rocky, if it doesn’t end in complete disaster. Worse, I get the feeling Vlad is perfectly fine with the notion of turning her and if things don’t work out, just kill her or get rid of her. Again, the simplistic thinking comes into play here: it ultimately comes down to Vlad being self-centered. He’s thinking only in terms of satisfying his needs, he doesn’t seem to have any concept of a larger pair or group feeling. There’s an inability to bend/be flexible for the sake of maintaining a greater harmonious feeling. 
[For the record, I don’t think this makes him irredeemable? Only that it makes it very hard to live with him or love him, probably. There’s an inability to live at a joint pace? It’s always answering to what he wants without room for anything else most of the time, which to me is not living and it’s not love ;;;;]
Following their escape back to their own time, Vlad explains how he wants to use the door to turn geniuses and control humanity. He eventually wants to create a surveillance state, which would mean everyone is forced to move with his explicit approval, more or less. (He almost reminds me of Louis XIV, can’t tell if that’s what they were going for.) I have my doubts that his abilities could extend that far, but human history shows us that we are plenty susceptible to fascist and totalitarian rhetoric. In a shocking display of anger, Comte draws the line at controlling humanity and forcing them into a regime in which, and this is Vlad’s description not mine, “we (purebloods) would be like kings.” There’s definitely a concept of evolutionary superiority at play here, which echoes what I mentioned earlier; vampires seem to have this awareness that they’re apex predators in a sense, and enjoy the power that comes with that. Unfortunately, that probably makes for a fairly toxic/uncomfortable larger species culture, which is exactly what Comte and Leo hate lmao.
Vlad does not seem to find any issue with this sort of outlook, and asks MC to decide which of them--Vlad or Comte--is right. Who is more realistic, who best understands the future? As expected the MC replies that it's Comte, and Vlad goes from beseeching to big mad at record speed. He's p much that gif of the teddy bear that smacks its head down on the tables and then has the angry eyebrows.
This is where Comte intervenes, firing a warning shot that grazes Vlad's cheek and demanding he let MC go. In response, Vlad shoves MC into the turbulent timespace door--p much guaranteeing MC's death. (Essentially timespace is a void of sorts, a human being could never survive in that environment for long. Vlad fully knew this, and yeeted her anyway.)
So uh, yeah. Disagreement? Death. Moving on? Death. Nuanced approach to reality? Death. Beginning to think he doesn't really have a lot of patience or open-mindedness or any other kind of problem-solving approach. 
He raises flowers and gardens like a fiend, and he openly plucks any single flower with a blemished leaf. Even if a single petal is slightly damaged, it will be removed and destroyed. So one could argue his extremism reflects a kind of perfectionism as well. No room for errors or troublesome dissent. No ugliness of any kind. I mean in all of his interactions with Faust and Charles this is the overt undertone. Don't ask more of me than I'm willing to give. Behave like good children, mommy's busy. Is that insubordination? boss music begins
One thing I actually don't understand very well is his decision making in Dazai's route. Dazai finds out about what Vlad's doing in a nanosecond when he senses MC is in danger, and yet Vlad makes absolutely no move to eliminate Dazai? He just watches from the shadows. Even when Dazai grills Charles about his loyalty to Vlad, no retribution.
My best guess for this specific situation is that Vlad does derive some level of satisfaction thwarting the future of human beings/former humans. Dazai--being somebody with no great desire to live, no rivals to speak of as far as we can tell, and no larger aspirations--is a life that is easily extinguished. There's no satisfaction in it. When Vlad's clan was murdered and he saw the future decimated, it could be that he felt humans had invaded and eradicated every potentiality that was important to him. Where he might have lived happily with his family, that future was ripped from his grasp. Where he might enjoy his flowers and the creation of an immortal for the rest of conceivable time, that too was ripped from his grasp with a desolate future. 
So much about who Vlad is is about control, so it's very possible his lashing out is an extension of that. Dazai does not awaken any of the disdain he feels, and he does not succeed in overthrowing Vlad's control over Charles, so Vlad simply lurks in silence.
And last but not least, I've seen the preview to Vlad's newest birthday event story. The contents are incredibly revealing, in that MC wishing him a happy birthday and offering him a gift has him saying that it was "the best birthday ever." Granted idk if that’s sweet or just...beyond sad, but here we are. It’s only compounding my curiosity about the wound on his chest--I really do wonder if he was attacked and locked away by vampire hunters or hostile human beings or something. I say that only because that line speaks to a lot of isolation, and given how little he seems to care about turning people/subjecting them to his whims it feels odd. Why the isolation or lack of people who care about him? Is it a perceived lack where his actions alienated all the people who wanted to be close to him, or is it a more involuntary lack?
When she says let’s celebrate again next year, he seems a pleasantly shocked by the notion, and remarks “Ah yes, it’s a promise c:”. The preview was also mega horny: “You make me feel so loved, I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight. If you enjoy it so much, then I won’t stop. I want to see you completely lost for me. I’ll teach your body what it means to be loved by a pureblood.” Aaaaaand pretty sure the CG was alluding to him licking the good stuff from her basement, though not entirely sure given it was only the preview. 
The brief POV they give us is also very revealing:
“You always keep your promises, and I think I underestimate all the time how much you saved me. You are good, only you are good in this world.”
“Will we continue to make promises to each other in the future? Well in that case--you will always, always be mine, my vampire.”
Tbh he’s...v sweet? In his own way? Honestly he feels like a crabapple that is just so sick of the world and wants softe wife to take comfort in. While granted that’s not really my thing, I know a fanbase appeal exists for these types--so if that’s your thing, have at it!
So now that we have reached the end of my ridiculously long analysis (when am I ever brief, I’m so sorry. If you made it all the way here you deserve a cookie at the very least, if not the right to chase me with a bat) perhaps it’s more clear why I said discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha? “My clan is gone, every other second I’m going to be in retraumatization insanity, when I’m not I’ll be seeking power/hobbies, planning the demise of people who wanted the best for me, building a team to my advantage and unquestioned control, and eventually settling for a lifelong love who sees the best in me despite my more difficult moments and perceived hollowing loneliness. Not the most ideal comparison, but I will say if Vlad was not already named the historical figure, would have pointed and yelled Uchiha.
That’s all from me folks, hopefully this was a fun way to get introduced to him? And again, hope I didn’t alienate--I fully respect what people do and don’t enjoy o7
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iturbide · 3 years
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the fact that edelgard is the villain in 3/4 routes and yet intsys STILL glorifies her to no end enrages and annoys me. no other villain has been given that perspective of “well actually maybe they arent so bad” except for the hypocritical tyrant. even when she has *literally become an inhuman monster* intsys is still like “oh no dont worry she was right actually!” and it upsets me deeply
It upsets me, too, friend.  IntSys seems to really like glorifying people who don’t deserve it, especially in recent games (Walhart in Awakening, Rudolf in Echoes -- I can’t say if his whole ‘orchestrating a plan to have his son murder him’ thing is carry-over from Gaiden or not, but it definitely exists in the recent remake so I’m including it), but Edelgard actually ends up as a bit of a weird case. 
(I have a lot of thoughts about this, so I’m just going to cut preemptively.)
Now, I’m actually not opposed to Edelgard being the protagonist of the fourth route in Three Houses.  Anyone who’s been here a while knows that I generally see Grima, a figure that IntSys generally tries to paint as a rote villain, as at least a sympathetic villain (and possibly even a secret hero in the events of Awakening itself); it’s entirely possible for someone that’s a villain in most of their appearances to have legitimate reasons for what they’re doing and why, and revealing that in their personal route could be incredibly powerful if done well. 
And here’s the thing: Edelgard really is a compelling character, in large part because of her moral ambiguity.  I actually agree with her when she says that the Church of Seiros is corrupt at its core and the system needs to change.  She’s right about that!  While Seiros might have had decent reasons for establishing things this way, over the past thousand years human societies have changed while the church itself remained stagnant -- something potentially exacerbated by her selfish ambition to restore her mother -- and this has led to a structure that once served an important purpose becoming a toxic and destructive mess for humanity at large.  Edelgard has a completely valid point there, and it’s something that I could absolutely get on board with if she had gone about achieving change in some other way, because she does have other methods available to her that she writes off without real reason -- and even that can relate back in part to her deep trauma and difficulty trusting people after the betrayals she faced at the hands of her “uncle” and her own father’s powerlessness to stop the nightmare she and her siblings suffered through. 
IntSys probably could have crafted a narrative that showed from her perspective why she believed war against the Church was the only valid option available to her.  The issue is that she undercuts her own argument by targeting all of Fodlan, rather than specifically going after the Church: she doesn’t give the Kingdom and Alliance a “stay out of my way or else” warning, she literally turns her sights on the Kingdom as soon as the monastery falls and attempts to fully annex it once Cornelia sets up Dimitri’s fall, leaving the Alliance only because she has her hands full with Faerghus.  She didn’t have to take Cornelia up on her offer of making the Kingdom into the Dukedom of Faerghus and sending troops to finish the job: she could have just left the woman to her own devices, forcing the Twisted to utilize their own people to maintain and secure full control of the region while she worked on addressing the systemic issues, which would have had multiple benefits:
The Imperial Army doesn’t get overwhelmed and exhausted fighting in conditions they’re not equipped to deal with, leaving them stronger overall while the Twisted forces are potentially weakened by the same
Hubert is able to better assess the threat they’re dealing with, including learning their capabilities and possibly even where they’re coming from before Merceus
Edelgard actually puts her money where her mouth is and ends up helping the people she claims to be doing this for, rather than just using them as fodder for the war to grind up
Unfortunately, the way she’s written ends up just making her an imperialist.  She’s not just going after the corrupt core of the Church, she’s trying to forcibly unite the continent and return Fodlan to some long gone ideal where it was all united under the Imperial banner because she refuses to believe that Adrestia could have split by natural causes.
Crimson Flower ultimately ends up being a particularly egregious example of this glorification phenomenon in action because they give her a personal route that makes no effort to critically examine her actions and make her face consequences for them.  This, I think, does her a massive disservice as a character, because that aforementioned moral ambiguity that makes her so interesting could have been utilized to great effect -- and the proof is actually there already, because they do it in Dimitri’s route.
Dimitri is himself another interesting character, and outwardly presents as Edelgard’s polar opposite: he recognizes that he doesn’t have all the answers, struggles to figure out the correct course of action when presented with difficult subjects that have  no clear-cut answer -- like the fact that reliance on the Crest system is toxic for noble families, but it’s those very Crest-bearers and their Relics that help keep Faerghus safe from invasion by Sreng -- possesses incredible strength but specifically refrains using it in most cases to avoid harming others, and generally takes everyone’s problems onto himself to his own detriment.  He’s also deeply traumatized and was never given a chance to deal with it in a healthy manner, which contributes to how he snaps -- and Azure Moon starts with Dimitri being so far out of reach that you can’t unlock any of his supports and can’t even engage with him in the weekly discussions.  He’s lost himself to his survivor’s guilt and need for vengeance, considers himself to be nothing more than a monster, and has no qualms about killing if it helps advance his quest; as the story progresses, he faces a direct consequence for this murderous inclination in the form of Fleche who attempts to exact vengeance for her brother’s sake in the same way that he’s attempting to claim it for his family and friends -- only to lose Rodrigue, and have his dying words be a plea for Dimitri to live for himself rather than those who died before him, at which point Dimitri sets his sights on opposing Edelgard rather than killing her and seeing to atone for the crimes he committed.  While I think the game made the change a little too abrupt, it’s handled well overall, and shows a real development arc complete with both actions and their associated consequences that directly relate to Dimitri’s growth as a person.
Contrast this to Edelgard in general and Crimson Flower as a route.  Edelgard believes that she has all the answers despite not trying to engage with anyone outside her own House, decisively chooses what she believes to be the right and proper course of action regardless of how difficult the subject matter, possesses great strength (both physically and of sheer will) that she uses to dominate others, and forces others to join her in addressing what she sees as problems -- such as her line about making her own people into “worthy sacrifices” for her “higher cause.”  Crimson Flower is the only route where her attack on the monastery fails to capture Rhea, but once Byleth returns she sets her sights on attacking and subjugating a territory that has remained entirely neutral through the past five years, turns on the Twisted while she’s still in a vulnerable position which ultimately causes the deaths of at least a third of the forces she left at Arianrhod once they fire their warning shot, lies to her friends and allies about what happened there, murders her step-brother, and allows a city full of trapped civilians to burn unchecked while she deals with what she considers to be the “real” threat on the opposite side of the Faerghus capital -- and all of this is capped off with her never dealing with the Twisted, and cute little endcards that talk about how everything worked out fine and there were no problems ever, The End.  Edelgard doesn’t get a development arc in her route: she’s never challenged, she never faces real consequences (and the one she does face she literally lies about to her friends and then leaves as a problem to deal with later), and she pretty much ends the game exactly where she started it: completely assured that she made the right choices.  The moral ambiguity inherent in her character is instead cast as “of course she’s in the right, she’s so great and there’s nothing at all wrong with what she’s doing or how she’s going about it, isn’t she wonderful?”
At least in the main game, Hegemon Husk Edelgard is treated with real gravity, shown as the pinnacle of her drive to see her ambition come to fruition and the tragic consequence of her inability to change course and find another path.  The Forging Bonds event just takes the CF brush and paints her actions as the right ones, even though what made her so compelling is that her reasons were right while her methods were horrific.  Edelgard really could have been wonderful.  The potential is right there in her character.  But IntSys completely botched the execution of it, so that her route feels rushed, incomplete, and at best unsatisfying (or, if you’re me, utterly disgusting for how it glorifies imperialistic conquest), and her Heroes appearances only make it worse.
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mymelodyheart · 3 years
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All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 4 ~Revelations and Snogs~
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Previously in A Christmas Request ...
"Claire?"
"Hmmm?" Her voice was like a breathless whisper, and he wasn't sure if he imagined the yearning look in her eyes. It took all his self-control to keep from kissing her right there and then. Instead, he locked down all his muscles and willed himself to think of animals that start with the letter D. And all his damn brain could summon was the word dragonfly.
"May I ask ye a favour?"
"I don't kiss on the first date," she said too quickly, but her words contradicted her manner as she stared at his lips.
"That wasn't what I was gonnae ask ye."
"Oh!" Her eyes flew to his, and she blushed profusely. "Oh, well, that depends on the favour then."
He swallowed hard and leaned forward, taking her hands in his. "Will ye spend the rest of yer holiday with me?" He cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to ask of ye is, will ye stay here until the Three Kings ...until it's time for ye to go back to London?"
She blinked thrice. 
"Alright."
"Alright?" A lungful of air whooshed out of him.
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   Alrighty Beauchamp, what have you just done?
Grabbed life by the balls? Isn't that the mantra?
Nope!
What do you mean nope?
Those are not your words. Not our words.
Yes, they are. You know, live in the moment and la-di-dah!?
Nope, definitely not.
Whose are they then?
Annalise's.
Ah, well ...
Claire mentally shrugged. 
"Sassenach?"
She snapped out of her tunnel vision, then looked at the big hands still holding hers. She was still trying to wrap her head around the idea of agreeing to spend the rest of her holiday with a total stranger. Who are you and what have you done with the ol' Beauchamp? "I'm sorry. I was thinking of Annalise. This is our holiday together, you see. I just agreed to spend the rest of my holiday here without consulting her." She shook her head and laughed despite the conflicting thoughts floating around her head. "I'm quite sure she'll be fine with it. She's the one who's always pushing me to be more spontaneous."
He squeezed her hands. "I'm flattered to be the reason for your spontaneity."
Her face heated. "I've never done this before ...just so you know."
He tried to catch her eye, and when she returned his gaze, he gave her a lop-sided smile. "Neither have I."
Oh, he's so good. Claire blew out a breath and stilled her heart. "That's comforting to know," she said, trying not to look too flustered. Knowing so little about him, she knew she should be wary, but for some reason, she felt safe. Everything about him was brand-new and familiar at the same time. It's as if there had been a melody playing in her head for her entire life, and he'd finally given it words.
"And Analise is welcome to stay too," Jamie quickly reassured her. "Ye said ye're booked at the Airbnb until Boxing day, but I dinnae think there'll be any guarantee ye'll be able to extend yer stay there with it being high season and all. But we have a family cottage that we rent out for the long term, and it was recently vacated. With all the Christmas fuss and work during the past few weeks, we never got around to letting it. Ye and Annalise are welcome to stay there for the rest of yer holiday." And then he grinned. "I'm quite certain my brother would be thrilled with the idea of yer friend staying too."
Claire laughed. "You're probably right. They seemed to have hit it off."
"Ye could say the same for us, don't ye agree?" he asked in a low voice.
She stared at him. How could he looked so calm and collected when she hadn't figured out how to articulate what she was feeling? On top of it all, it seemed he'd perfected the art of persuasion with finesse, so much so, she'd immediately jumped at his invitation to stay in Broch Mordha without a second thought, surprising herself. When it came to the dating game, she would have equated over-confidence to smugness which as a rule turned her immensely off. But there's a sincerity to Jamie's flirting that she found all too endearing and very charming.
She searched his face. Ready or not, she was curious to explore the unfamiliar emotions this beautiful man was drawing out of her. In her history of dating, no man had ever moved her to make her take the leap of faith. Deep down, something always seemed to be missing, and she'd simply put it down to her inability to know what she wanted. To say her hope of finding herself in a romantic relationship had taken a hit would be an understatement.
When her last date had ended in a blaze of abject embarrassment after she was accused of being a cock-tease, she'd decided she was done with men, at least for the foreseeable future. She had a concrete five-year plan, and getting involved with someone when her heart wasn't a hundred per cent into it, wasn't one of them. Annalise continued to hassle her to dive back in into the dating pool head first, but she'd been content to wade in the shallow end. It may have been frustrating to never take the plunge, but at least, there was a nil chance of her drowning in a sea of mistake. But now?
"Baby steps," she whispered.
"Sorry ...I didn't quite catch that."
She pulled her hands from his hold and drank the rest of her already cold Dutch coffee. When she finally placed the mug down, she looked up and smiled at him. "That rental cottage you were talking about, can I at least give you some money for it?"
He shook his head. "No way. In case ye've forgotten, I invited ye to stay."
"But you've been paying for everything all evening. Hardly seems fair."
"Spending my hard-earned quid for the pleasure of a gorgeous lass' company? Every penny spent is worth it if ye ask me." 
When he talked like that, she knew her blush wasn't going to fade anytime soon. "Annalise will disapprove, and I'm pretty sure she will want to have her say in the matter."
"And so will Willie."
"Are you always this stubborn?" she countered.
"Only if I want something badly."
They have a stare-off for a few heartbeats before Jamie tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. 
He glanced down at his watch. "So, the last horse carriage ride around the village is in about twenty minutes. We should probably get going." 
"Horse carriage ride?"
"Aye. Part of the Christmas night tour." He got up from his seat and gallantly offered her his arm. "Shall we?"
It's so old-fashioned and chivalrous, she laughed out loud. "Well, I guess we shall." As soon as she linked her hand into the crook of his elbow, he sucked in a quick breath. "Are you alright?"
He looked down at her hand on his arm and smiled. "Aye. I'm just concerned I might have trouble adhering to yer nae-kiss-on-first-date rule."
They headed out of the cafe and into the frosty air, and she was acutely aware of the low voltage electricity buzzing around them. "Would it help if I put my retainers on? I have them in my bag. I usually put them on at night."
"No, not really. I just have to remind myself of the promise I made to Annalise before we left the pub earlier."
"What promise was that?"
"I promised her I'd behave otherwise ..."
"Otherwise?"
"I have to face the consequences."
She laughed. She knew Annalise's threat so well and by heart as the same lines had been often used to warn her dates in the past. "Well, let me see ...did she say if you misbehave she's going to show you the end of the world up close. And she's going to let you see the kingdom come with your own eyes by sending you straight to the southern hemisphere and letting the ashes of death rain all over you."
He grinned at her. "Something like that. How she's going to achieve that, I have nae idea."
"Never mind how. If you keep on focusing on Annalise's threat, that should be deterrent enough."
He gave her a sceptical shrug. "If ye say so." And then he looked down at her and winked. "But then again, ye're worth tempting fate for."
..........
Claire found herself being hoisted into a festively decorated horse-drawn carriage with twinkling garlands, gold & white berries. To her amusement, even the shire horses were wearing faux antlers. As she sat down, she felt their buggy dipped low as Jamie followed and settled next to her, putting the gift bags on the floor and pulling the woollen blanket over them. As their transport rumbled and creaked into motion, he put an arm behind her, resting it the edge of their seat's backrest, leaving her no alternative but to lean against the curve of his body. His closeness and the motion of their carriage added another layer of tension to her already overworked adrenal glands.
"Comfy?" he whispered, leaning into her, his warm breath on her ear.
"Uh-huh," she managed, licking her lips that had gone suddenly dry. It was a challenging feat to ignore Jamie's presence when his sheer size encroached her space, his thigh brushing against hers and the motion of the ride, sinking her deeper under his arm.
She forced herself to focus on the sounds of the hooves and bells, and admire the trees wrapped in lights, wreaths adorning almost every window, and Santas or nutcrackers standing guard outside front doors. For once, Jamie didn't speak, and she allowed herself to relax, revelling the clean, crisp air of the Highlands. Although Broch Mordha was nothing like London, quieter and had a slower pace of life, the atmosphere in the village was electric. It was almost magical, more natural and everything seemed to make more sense, instead of the rat race that occurred daily and nightly in the big city.
Every year, at around Christmas time, she came back to the Highlands in search of some peace, and every time she returned to London, she always felt like a brand new person, invigorated, well-rested and ready to tackle the New Year. But there was something different about her visit in Broch Mordha compared to the other places she'd been to in the Highlands, and she had a feeling deep in her guts, she'd have trouble leaving this place once her holiday was over. 
"Ye dinnae look tired at all, Sassenach. Ye're used to staying up late?"
She glanced up at Jamie and smiled. "I sleep very little. I don't know, maybe I have insomnia."
"Really? Perhaps it's just a consequence of living in the city. I mean it's loud there, and I presume ye live in a flat where ye can hear the comings and goings of yer neighbours."
She sighed. "Yes, there's that. The flat Annalise and I live in is not really the most tranquil setting. It doesn't help that I am an overthinker."
"What do ye think mostly about when ye cannae sleep?"
"Mostly about work," she shrugged, glancing at the lights overhead that were hung above the streets. "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy, and I'm grateful for the good life I have. It's just that sometimes I think about the day when I would stop searching for ..."
Jamie waited for her to finish her sentence, but she couldn't find the words. "For what?" he finally asked, his hand squeezing her shoulder, urging her on.
"More," she replied candidly, surprising herself with the unguarded utterance that came from her very soul, ragged with honesty and desire for something she didn't have a name for. Yet. Suddenly, the empty place inside her reared up, seeking company. "How about you? What do you think most of at night?" She paused, trying to tamp down the sudden curiosity that flared up, but it was out before she could stop herself. "A certain lass perchance?"
To her astonishment, she felt him tensed beside her, and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh. "I have nightmares," he confided.
Her head jerked up, and she twisted in her seat to look into his eyes. He was probably waiting for her to ask a torrent of questions, but she remained silent, allowing him to set the pace of their conversation. She nodded her head to continue.
"I used to be with the SAS. It's a special force unit for the British army. The unit I was in was responsible for a number of roles including covert reconnaissance, counter-terrorism, direct action, and hostage rescue. My best friend, Simon MacKimmie, was captured while spying behind the enemies' lines. He was a valuable informant for both sides, and my team were under direct orders to get him out of there alive and as swiftly as possible." She watched as his throat worked as if he saw the scene replaying in his mind. "We found him quickly enough and thought we were out of the woods. But the enemy fire broke out just as we were about to board the helicopter. Simon and I were hit, but my wound was superficial, whereas my friend's injury was fatal. I promised him everything would be alright and would make sure he stayed alive for his family. Before he slipped away, he made me promise to take care of his wife, Laoghaire, if he didn't make it. She was pregnant at the time. I didn't hesitate and made a vow to keep that promise."
"Oh, Jamie ..."
He pressed his lips into a determined line. "Months later, I was discharged from the army after I was diagnosed with PTSD. I resigned myself to a quiet life as the flashbacks from the horrors of the war and friend's death worsened. Laoghaire and I became close, as we talked a lot about Simon and I helped her with the things she needed. That was when I found my purpose in life again, and even though I wasn't in love with her, I loved her like I loved Simon so I asked her to marry me so that I could take care of their child. It was a sacrifice, aye, but it was a small price to pay, considering I get to live, and my mate will never get to see his unborn child. So we planned to marry after the child was born. So while we were waiting for the big day, I bought a house for us, and my brother helped me restore it."
"But Laoghaire didnae want to live here. She wanted us to move to Liverpool because she couldnae stand the quiet and the remoteness even though she was born and bred here. I told her we would talk about it after the baby was born. But I was worried that living in the city would make my PTSD worse. Meanwhile, rumours were going around that Laoghaire has been seeing another man when Simon was still alive and that she would often disappear to Liverpool weeks at a time. I ignored it as I didnae care for idle gossips and dismissed it as such. Ye see, she lived and worked in Liverpool before she married Simon; hence, I thought, that was where the rumours had stemmed from. She's a very ambitious lass and has this dream of making it big one day. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I later found out from a reliable source that not only had she cheated on Simon, but she cheated on me while were engaged. I began to wonder if the child she was carrying was even Simon's. While I was building her a house and funding her trips to Liverpool, she was seeing the same man she'd been meeting up with when Simon was still alive. When I confronted her, she admitted to it. So the wedding was cancelled, and she went to Liverpool to give birth to her child and to be with the other man ." 
He shook his head at the memory. "She reminded me of someone I used to pursue. She'd rather be with a man wearing a five grand suit than be with a labourer like me. I guess it's the lure of the city. Sometimes I feel like I failed Simon and his family. I made him all sorts of promises that I couldnae keep and the memory of the glimmer of hope he had in his eyes turning to death, keep recurring in my dreams."
Claire knew the last things Jamie needed were apologies and pities. He seemed like a proud man who didn't shy away from responsibilities and was unapologetically himself. "I guess we both have demons that keep us up at night," she finally said.
Jamie shrugged and waved his hand. "Dinnae fash. I didnae take ye out so ye could watch me wallow. I've done enough of that myself."
She took a deep breath. "I'm not going to pretend I wholly understand everything you've been through, but one thing I know is that you being part of the SAS means you were trained with the elite. You were drilled to save lives, and with that comes, precision and no room for error. So when something goes wrong, and someone dies during your watch, it becomes your fault."
He looked at her as furrows deepened on his brows.
She placed a hand over his. "You tried to absolve your guilt of not being able to save your mate's life by taking care of Laoghaire, who was so undeserving of your kindness and generosity. God or a higher power or the universe, or whatever you wish to call it, is trying to show you something important. You don't get to choose, Jamie. At the end of the day, you can only do your best, but you can't save everyone. No one can. Right now you're learning to live with that, and all you can do now is make sure you get to the other side. You can't take responsibility for everyone's action but yours."
Something lit up in Jamie's eyes. Emboldened by the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, she grinned at him. "No wonder you won at the caber toss and your team trashed the opponents at shinty today. You have so much pent up emotions dying to come out."
Jamie suddenly laughed out loud and pulled her against him. "I think I need to fire my therapist and hire ye, Sassenach. All this time, we'd circled around the realisation, always walking on eggshells. But ye ...ye just gave it to me straight. I think I'll need ye to stay longer past three kings."
She poked him on the ribs. "Be careful what you wish for!"
..........
A couple of hours and a glass of mulled cider each later, they walked in silence as Jamie guided her down the path that led to the bed and breakfast cottage. As it turned out, he lived three minutes walk away from where she and Annalise were staying.
After spending a whole night out with him, her body was still buzzing with so much energy. She'd never had such a powerful reaction to a man before. Nor enjoyed the company of one as much as she did tonight. She felt like she could uproot all the trees that stood on her path.
"I had a really grand time," he said.
"Me too. Thank you for a wonderful evening."
"And thank ye for the company."
As they neared bed and breakfast cottage, she realised they were exchanging lame small talk, but there's nothing lame about what's passing between them. Either way, she couldn't care less as she'd never laughed so hard in her life.
When they finally reached the small gate, she stopped and turned around to face him. "Well, here we are," she smiled, trying to conceal her reluctance to go.
He hooked the giftbags onto the wooden gate and nodded tensely, the tightness in his jaw quite evident. "Aye. Here we are at Mrs Fitz's place. I ken the ol' dear. She used to feed me and my brother jam piece and milk when we were bairns." He took a step forward and cleared his throat. "I ...um ...tonight was really special." 
"I think so too. Thank you again for everything."
He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. "I'm no' tired yet, so I'm just going to take a walk some more until I'm ready for bed," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
"Yes, you do that. Fresh air is good for you. And I ...ah ... I'll talk to Annalise about extending our stay here. Ah well ... that's if she's still awake." She rolled her eyes and let out a nervous laugh. "Or if she's home. So ... I'll see you around?"
"Aye, I'm just down the road if ye need anything."
"Yes. Got it. Down the road. A hop, skip and jump away."
He stared for a few heartbeats, then ran his hand behind his neck and gave her a crooked smile. "I meant it, Sassenach. If ye cannae sleep, ye can drop by anytime. I'm a light sleeper. Apart from personalised packaged-tours, I also specialise in making a mean toddy to help ye sleep. And a wicked mushroom omelette if its breakfast ye want. Oh, aye, I'm good at foot massage as well."
She stifled a giggle threatening to burst as a ball of warmth bloomed in her belly. "I have no doubt you're good at those things. I'll bear what you said in mind if I need anything or if I have trouble sleeping. And if I have a sudden urge for a foot massage, I'll pop by."
He shook his head. "Ye're not just saying that to spare my feelings are ye?"
"No. Of course not. I enjoy your company. So ..." Claire took a deep breath. "...this is it. Good night, Jamie. And thank you again for everything." Oh, dear God, I keep saying thank you! She stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on his cheek just as he offered his hand. Their sudden awkward movement made her lose her balance, bumping her nose on his jaw. They both took a step back and laughed. This time she held out her hand, and he shook it.
They continued to stand there and shake hands, neither of them letting go, their smile slowly ebbing away as they stared at each other.
Jamie was the first to speak. "Right, this is the part where I watch ye walk away."
"Yes. I'll go now. It's getting late." She smiled as she took a tentative step away from him, but he didn't let go of her hand.
Her bottom hit the wooden post behind her as Jamie took another step forward. His height and breadth blocked out the street light, and in the shadows, his expression looked almost pained. She'd had men looked at her with desire before, but nothing like the way Jamie was doing right now. The way his jaw and muscles tensed and his breathing shallowed, she knew it was taking him a lot of effort to hold himself back. Her eyes travelled down to his throat and watched his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.
"Sassenach." His voice cut through the haze, and her eyes flew to his as he leaned down and cupped her face. "Maybe ye could stay for just a wee while more."
Her heart began to thump wildly against her ribs as the air between them charged. "I really should get going," she whispered, the blood roaring through her ears almost deafening. She willed herself to move, but she remained fixed on the spot.
"Or perhaps ye can just stand here for a few minutes more and let me do this."
She stopped breathing and time stood still as he softly brushed his lips across hers. Then he pulled away for a brief second waiting for her to object, and when she didn't, he kissed her again.
Her brain seized, and her eyes automatically closed. She'd never felt lips so soft nor been kissed with such gentleness. She once read an Oscar Wilde quote, and it said, "A kiss may ruin a human life." It had puzzled her then because up until now, she'd always thought, although some kisses were sweet it was nothing more than two people putting their faces together and exchanging spit. But Jamie's kiss? She knew it had ruined her for any future kisses. This was the type of kiss she never even knew existed. It was the kind of kiss that inspired stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.
She waited with bated breaths for more, but nothing happened.
When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. "I've wanted to kiss ye from the moment I laid my eyes on ye," he whispered and grazed her lips once more. "Ye've nae idea how beautiful ye are."
Oh, sweet Jesus! He'd barely touched her. It was merely a light brushing of their lips and the slightest sensation of his breath on her face. But it was enough to cause the static crackling between them to be ignited, and she was left wanting more.
Before she could reassemble her thoughts and make sense of her emotions, he stepped away from her and tunnelled his fingers through his hair. "May I please have yer phone, Sassenach?"
"Oh! Wot for?"
He smiled at her. "I'm giving ye my number." 
She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and handed her phone over. She watched him dial his own number on her screen, and after a few seconds later, his own phone rang. 
"There, now I have yers too." He pushed her phone into her back pocket and blew out a breath. "I'll see ye tomorrow?" 
"You want to see me again?" she teased, smiling.
"I dinnae even want to leave ye tonight."
She dropped her head down to hide the heat creeping up her face. "I'll see what's Annalise is up to and we'll take it from there. I'll either call you or send a message."
He placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up. "Ye're not mad I kissed ye? I havenae forgotten yer rules about first dates."
Claire picked up the gift bags, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. And then she smiled. "I'm starting to believe the rules don't apply to you. Good night, Jamie." And with that, she turned around and walked towards the cottage without looking back, knowing full well Jamie was still stood there waiting for her until she'd safely made it to the house.
Once inside, she allowed herself to slide down to the floor and relived the memory of their first kiss. And she sat there for a very long time.
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Dear Readers,
Here's a little story about this chapter. I got stuck at the beginning of writing this one. So what did I do? I started writing from the middle, then the conclusion and finished the opening in the end. It's common to get stuck in writing, so I thought I'd share this wee tip with you. So just in case, the latest update lost some of its fluidity, you now know the reason why. 😀
Anyway, thank you for reading and your feedback from the previous chapter. It's something I truly appreciate. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I look forward to reading your thoughts. Meanwhile, sending you all best wishes and hope you're taking care of yourselves and your health. x
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strange-lace · 3 years
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My first thing to do knowing hyperfixating on LEGO Monkie Kid is making a role swap AU because of course, though I was also inspired by @cassidyisnowdrawing ‘s Yellow Light Verse (that I really hope it doesn’t look like I’m copying you, I did my best to make them different from each other)!
So in this role swap, while everyone’s roles in the story are swapped (Mei’s the Monkie Kid, Red is her partner in crime, and MK serves DBK and PIF) their backstories haven’t changed, if that makes sense. Now while I keep their personalities similar to canon, they’re going to still have some differences due to their different circumstances.
Mei:
Mei would be a lot more insecure and eager to prove herself, both as Sun Wukong’s successor and her worth as a person since while I’m having backstories for the characters stay the same, I could see Mei and MK both being worse off self-esteem wise without having each other around growing up. 
She’d still just as bubbly, excitable, protective, and phone savvy as Canon!Mei, if not more so on the protective aspect. Tends to go absolutely apeshit the most when someone threatens Green, Pigsy, Tang, Sandy and eventually includes MK and her own mentor, Sun Wukong, under this umbrella.
Case in point: when she sees Sun Wukong and Macaque fight. Through sheer protective anger and hurt about being betrayed allows her to lift the staff and decimate Macaque.
Sun Wukong would get attached a lot quicker to his successor in this AU because Mei just has that energy which activates Parental Instincts he didn’t even know he had.
Does noodle deliveries for Pigsy but has also makes vlogs of what it’s like working at Pigsy’s Noodles. She says it’s to better advertise the shop, but really she just likes making memories that she can look back on and show others. Starts doing it while also being the Monkie Kid and training with Wukong.
Was genuinely scared/intimidated by Demon Kid upon first meeting him but was quick to find that while he’s got the dramatics of being a villain down, he fails at the aspect of actually partaking in villainous behavior. After that, they’re quick to transition from enemies to frenemies to just being friends.
Makes no effort to hide her wanting to be friends with Demon Kid and finds his quiet bewilderment at her friendship adorable but also kind of sad. 
A troublemaker despite her innocent face, which definitely makes Sun Wukong proud to see her causing chaos and get away with it. That, alongside her kind nature, are the reasons he chose her as his successor.
Creates tech for the team alongside Green, though their differing styles of inventing can cause complications or make the inventions backfire on them both, though she takes these more in stride compared to Green.
The undefeated queen in DDR and Monkey Mecha despite Green’s multiple attempts to dethrone her.
Mei: Hey, hey DBK look at me. DBK: [turns towards Mei] Mei: [ready to kick his ass] B I T C H!
A slight bit better at focus and following Wukong’s lessons compared to Canon!MK but still tends to get ahead of herself in wanting to learn flashier techniques before even getting the basics down.
Likes to wage psychological warfare on her enemies. By that I mean, she essentially likes pulling Bugs Bunny level antics to frustrate them to do stupid stuff in combat out of anger, allowing her to fuck them up with a smile on her face.
Green (AKA Red Son)
The most changed personality wise due to different circumstances in this AU, a lot more calm and composed to counteract Mei’s hyperactive demeanor and less prone to losing his temper. Though he’s still pretty uptight.
Is still the son of DBK and PIF but he had ran away some time after DBK had been imprisoned. Makes an effort to make sure he’s not recognized by anyone, dying his hair and wearing makeup. Still wears Canon!Red Son’s shades but they’re larger and he still dresses like a rich bitch because he has standards. He refuses to wear the color red for unknown reasons to Mei and the others, at least until they find out about his family.
Just as protective of Mei as she is of him, to the point he had some objections to her being chosen as Sun Wukong’s successor but eventually let it go once he saw how important it was to her. Begrudgingly chose to fight alongside her, thinking he might as well and avoid her getting herself killed. His way of showing he cares can appear condescending but Mei has known him long enough to know he really doesn’t see her incapable of taking care of herself.
Works alongside Mei to use their combined tech knowledge to combating the threat of DBK and his demon forces. However, his inventions can also have a tendency to backfire or not work as intended, much to his frustration.
Enjoys racing on his motorbike, participating in races across the city and often winning in 1st place. He is most definitely a cocky little bastard about his skill in racing, one the few things about himself that he puts a lot of pride in.
Had a complicated relationship with Demon Kid at first. At first, he resented the other for essentially being his parents attempt to “replace” him after he ran away and led himself to believe that he was much more appreciated by his parents for his control of his flames and magic power. However, that illusion is soon shattered once he sees how Demon Kid gets when they foil his plans since he’s familiar with that look of worry and resigned accepted that he’d have to go back to DBK and PIF with another failure on his back. Tries to show empathy after that without revealing his true identity, which only causes confusion for Mei and Demon Kid on how he’s so familiar with DBK, PIF, and demon culture as a whole.
The exhausted voice of reason among the team alongside Pigsy.
Often challenges Mei to video game championships which devolve to them play fighting once Mei inevitably beats him at everything.
Has his own façade of confidence but often fears not being strong enough to keep his found family safe but is too proud to admit until someone gets injured and he starts fearing for the worst.
Sun Wukong enjoys messing with him due to his uptight nature, especially at the Monkey King’s impishness.
Goes completely feral in combat once he gets the Dragon Sword. Even before that, he was willing to run over Demon Kid’s demon puppets with his bike to give Mei a hand.
Demon Kid (AKA MK)
A kid who’s a lot like Megamind: he lives for the dramatics and presentation of being a villain but fails at actually acting villainous when it comes down to it. Does his best to appear serious, intimidating, and someone not to mess with but that façade slips very often when it comes to things like being complimented or when someone mentions the Monkey King and he turns out to be a complete dork.
Not the son of DBK and PIF, but rather a low level demon that PIF had chose to be help her free DBK after Red Son had disappeared and she was left alone. Mainly because Demon Kid had no one else either and she saw potential with his strong magic, though it was rather out of control when they met. PIF had decided alongside DBK that they’d keep him around as an assistant/minion of sorts once he had helped her free DBK.
Since he doesn’t have Canon!Red Son’s prowess with technology, I considered instead that he’s skilled with magic and his own fire powers, using them a lot more in combat or during his schemes against Mei’s team. Still a major contributor to DBK’s army, but instead of the mechanical Bull Clones, perhaps Demon Kid instead supplies his king with sentient demon puppets given life through his magic. The armor can run the same, except with a magical angle instead of technology.
I have this idea that he’s actually able to pull out Sun Wukong’s staff on his own, much to his surprise. He’s quick to try and say it was due to a spell when PIF questions this. He’s left both amazed and terrified at the mere possibility of him being worthy to wield the staff of Sun Wukong himself.
His first meeting with Mei plays out similar to the show’s canon, though instead he intended on teleporting Mei away with a spell under the guise of “eliminating” her for DBK. Even while chasing her through the city, he was going to simply take the staff and scare her enough to never cross the Demon Bull King again. He tries to convince himself it’s to allow fear of DBK to be spread by leaving her alive but really, he just could never bring himself to kill or seriously harm someone.
Though like Canon!Red Son, he’s prone to losing his temper with others before immediately apologizing afterwards out of reflex. Also tends to teleport away from situations when he’s embarrassed himself, often saying he’s only allowing Mei and Green to win this time but next time will be different.
Spoiler alert: It rarely ever is.
DBK and PIF are often frustrated with Demon Kid because they know he has potential to bring Sun Wukong’s successor and her team to their knees with his powers and knowledge of magical spells but he fails to fulfill this because of his own inability to be cruel. They’re both like that episode of Spongebob where Plankton tries to teach him to be assertive/aggressive except they’re both Plankton and Demon Kid is Spongebob.
Quickly becomes attached to Mei and Green since they’re genuinely nice to him and while he insists that it’s because they’re his “personal archenemies”, he most definitely sees them as his friends and is constantly coming up with flashier schemes to impress/amuse them as well as get feedback from them. Was actually really lonely before meeting them, having to use his demon puppets for company. His attachment to Mei and Green can quickly evolve to possessiveness when he thinks someone is trying to take them away, whether they be other enemies that decide to fight them or a friend who is simply spending noticeable amount of time with them.
In the case of someone else trying to kill them, Demon Kid would be quick to shut that down and make that person immediately regret it since, in his words, he’s the only one allowed to destroy the two. This is one of the few situations where he gets completely serious and doesn’t bother with the theatrics.
Does his best to make himself look scary such as shoes to make him appear taller, jagged face paint, and perhaps sharp eyeliner to imitate PIF since he sees everyone fears her.
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the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.VI
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A brand new chapter opening the second week of posting of my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang in collaboration with the incredible @gen-syz-art as my artist ✨
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The morning brings a thunderstorm with it.
The treetops of the tall pines of the forest outside bend under the gusts of wind, and the heavy, dark clouds cover the sky as far as eyes can see.
Geralt wakes from a clap of thunder, sitting up on the bed and pulling the fur blankets up to his chest to keep out the cold draft that seeps in through the window that he’d cracked open for the night.
Heavy raindrops clatter against the glass, and just as Geralt gets out of bed to close the window, unwilling to get the curtains wet, the steel-grey sky is cut through by a bolt of lightning that crawls across the clouds like a spiderweb.
Ever since Kaer Morhen, thunderstorms have been Geralt’s favourite kind of weather, the sheer force of nature tangible in the air itself.
He comes closer to the window, taking in a deep breath, just letting the rain-heavy air linger in his lungs for a long moment before closing the window.
In this weather, there aren’t many places that he could go.
Even if Jaskier was willing to let him ride into a storm like that, which Geralt doubts, Roach would sooner bite him than leave the warm, dry stables.
And though Geralt knows that he should be perturbed by his inability to leave, he just can’t bring himself to be.
He fixes the covers on the bed and dresses up quickly, leaving his weapons and armour in the room after contemplating for a few long moments whether or not that would feel like claiming it for himself. Sleeping in a room is one thing, he’d changed more inns that he could even begin to count, but leaving something in a room to then come back for it is another.
But spending another day in full armour when he doesn’t need it, like he did yesterday, seems unbearable, so he sighs but opts for just his worn black shirt before leaving the bedroom and heading down the hallway towards the stairs and into the library.
It’s really the only place that he can think of when looking for Jaskier.
The mansion is quiet, safe for the sounds of the storm outside, and like this, it seems even bigger than it actually is.
Geralt makes his way down the long hallway of the ground floor, thinking - though in the very back of his mind - that he’s getting used to this place, but when he reaches the library, he finds it empty.
It’s only a little before midday so surely, Jaskier must be out of bed. And if he isn’t, how is Geralt to find him in an estate this big?
Geralt stays in the library for a few more minutes, recalling everything Jaskier had told him about the mansion yesterday and trying to decide where to look for him, until he picks up the sound of the younger man’s voice, coming from somewhere at the other side of the mansion.
Having no other options, Geralt follows it, making his way through rooms and hallways, until he finds himself in front of one of the doors that lead to the garden, Jaskier’s voice now clear and close as he calls for his dogs.
By the gods, Geralt thinks, Is he really out in the garden in this weather?
He pushes the door open, the wind fighting him as he does, and steps outside, into the heavy, pleasantly cold air.
Jaskier doesn’t seem to hear him over the rain and wind, standing at the edge of the porch, where he’s still hidden by the roof, and calling for Asra and Lucio to come back to him, laughing as he watches them chase each other in the rain, wet to the bone.
He’s wrapped in an emerald-green dressing gown that billows and flaps in the wind like giant wings, and Geralt has to duck to the side not to get caught in the folds of the fabric as he comes closer. Though he tries his best to make his presence known, Jaskier still yelps in surprise when he reaches out to touch his shoulder.
“Oh, Melitele,” he mutters, the smile never leaving his lips even as he presses a hand over his heart. “Do you always sneak up on people, Witcher?”
He doesn’t look cold but his hands are freezing when he reaches out to shove Geralt in the shoulder with no real force, and despite himself, Geralt wants to pull him closer.
“I wasn’t trying to scare you,” he says instead, lifting his hands in surrender. “I thought I’d find you in the library. What are you doing outside in this weather?”
Jaskier pulls the robe tighter around himself and gestures to the dogs rolling in the wet grass, their fur stained seemingly beyond all salvation.
“They’re usually well-behaved,” he sighs. “But today they just ran away from me as soon as I opened the door of my bedroom. I don’t know, maybe they’re so excited because you’re around and they think that they’re now allowed anything they want.”
Another lightning tears through the sky, and Jaskier lifts his eyes, fascinated, only to gasp at the clap of thunder that comes a second later, so loud that Geralt feels like the windows of the mansion shake in their frames.
“Do you want me to help you get them back inside?” the witcher asks when the last rumbles fade.
A gust of wind nearly rips one side of the robe out of Jaskier’s hand, but he manages to keep hold of it, laughing.
“What’s the point now?” he asks. “They’re already dirty, might as well let them enjoy it.”
That’s… well, that’s true, Geralt supposes.
He still can’t stop thinking about the previous day, about all those little touches and smiles, about the morning in the library, and he’s both dying to see what would happen if he were to just reach his hand out, and is absolutely terrified of that idea, all at the same time.
He wonders what Jaskier would do if he were to wrap his arms around him, keep him from the cold. Or, alternatively, what he would do if Geralt were to pull him out into the rain right now. The dogs were, after all, having a lot of fun, soaking under the downpour.
No, Jaskier would probably never forgive him for that.
“Let’s go inside,” he says instead, reaching out before he can stop himself to put his hand on Jaskier’s forearm, getting his attention. “It’s cold out here.”
Jaskier’s eyes snap up to meet his, and though he hesitates for a moment, giving his dogs a wary look, another gust of wind makes him nod, leaving Asra and Lucio to themselves.
As he turns to the door, Geralt’s hand slips down his forearm but before the contact is lost, Jaskier catches his fingers, locking them with his own to pull the witcher after him back into the house. Geralt follows obediently, though his mind races, trying to catch up with the sudden warmth that spills through his body.
“Oh, you’re right, this is so much better,” Jaskier sighs once the door closes behind them and they’re met with the warmth of the hallway.
He’s still holding Geralt’s hand, and that’s all the witcher can concentrate on as they make their way up the stairs and into one of the smaller libraries which is really more of a reading nook now that Geralt thinks of it.
There’s a velvet settee by the fireplace but Jaskier just snatches the cushions from it and throws them onto the soft rug right in front of the hearth, plopping down onto one of them.
“We’ll be much warmer here than downstairs,” he says, letting go of Geralt’s hand.
He moves his wrist, the fabric of his dressing gown moving in waves of silk, and Geralt’s medallion suddenly stirs against his chest, but before his mind can fully register it, it stills again, and Jaskier is reaching for the matchbox on the mantel to start a fire.
Geralt shakes his head, coming back to his senses, and casts Igni, the logs in the hearth catching fire immediately.
“Trying to impress me with your little witcher tricks?” Jaskier teases, undoing the belt of his robe and shrugging it off.
Geralt hates himself for being disappointed by there being a chemise underneath.
“Perhaps,” he says, leaning back to rest against the settee. “Depends on whether it’s working or not.”
He wonders, distantly, if Jaskier would come closer if he were to open his arms and invite him in, but he can’t bring himself to try. Being led here by the hand doesn’t mean he’s allowed anything more. It might not mean anything at all.
“Well,” Jaskier murmurs, turning to face Geralt and resting his shoulders against the warm bricks of the fireplace. “Since it looks like we’re going to be here for a while, why don’t you show me what else you’re capable of, and then we’ll decide, hm?”
Fuck, Geralt thinks, Is he flirting with me or is he just being nice?
He shrugs with one shoulder, watching the younger man from under his lashes.
“Isn’t much that I can show you right now, I’m afraid,” he says. “I wouldn’t want to use Aard inside, and mind control has never really been my thing, so Axii is also a no.”
He thinks about Yrden, for just a second, and the picture that flashes in his mind is so tempting that he raises his hand to cast the Sign well before he gets the chance to actually think it through.
“I could do this, though,” he grins, watching the way Jaskier gasps as his magic forms into a glowing chain of purple, binding the younger man’s wrists together.
Geralt only allows it to last for a heartbeat, and then it’s gone, but the image imprints somewhere deep in his mind.
“Well, well, well, Witcher,” Jaskier murmurs, rubbing at his wrist. “Consider me impressed.”
There’s more distance between them than Geralt would necessarily like right now but, as if having read his thoughts, Jaskier shifts a little, until he can brush his ankle up Geralt’s shin, letting it rest somewhere close to his knee, still touching.
Geralt’s heart skips a beat at that but Jaskier doesn’t seem to be paying it much attention, like it’s as easy for him as breathing. And it probably is, Geralt assumes. People living in estates like this are born courtiers.
But it’s impossible not to play along, so carefully, still unsure on whether or not he’s allowed, Geralt reaches out to wrap his fingers around Jaskier’s ankle, brushing his thumb back and forth over the protruding bone.
Jaskier’s eyes sparkle in response but he doesn’t do anything else, just allows for it, closing his eyes and resting the back of his head against the wall of the fireplace, warming himself with its flames.
It’s quiet, safe for the storm outside, and Geralt almost feels peaceful like this, close enough to touch but far enough for him to be able to breathe. He shouldn’t be here, he knows it, but if he is, he might as well let himself have this.
A few minutes go by in comfortable silence, the warmth of the fire slowly filling up the room, and it’s only when there is another loud clap of thunder outside that Jaskier asks:
“Where are you going after you leave here?”
That is a question that Geralt had been asking himself through the good part of the night before he’d fallen asleep yesterday.
“Gelibol,” he says because that is still the only option that he can think of that makes sense. “Or back towards Roggeveen and Novigrad, there are always lots of drowners and water hags in those areas this time of year.”
He thinks, suddenly, about how he never mustered up the courage to ask Jaskier about those rumours of him being an illegitimate prince. Not that he would tell, of course. Things like that weren’t meant for anyone’s ears, Geralt was sure of that.  
But perhaps, if he were to tread lightly.
“I don’t usually gravitate towards Tretogor, but maybe this time around I will pass through, see if there are any contracts,” Geralt says with a shrug. “But that town is just too big, don’t you think?”
Geralt watches Jaskier’s emotions carefully, strives to register every single one to get his answer. The kings of Redania have been residing in Tretogor for what seems like forever. And a prince - legitimate or not - would surely have been to court, walked through the city.
But Jaskier’s expression gives him nothing.
“I do prefer Oxenfurt,” he says, locking his hands above his head and stretching with a soft little rumble that finds its way under Geralt’s skin. “Tretogor is too political, the only place you can find music or any sort of fun there is the court. I wouldn’t be able to live there for longer than a few weeks.”
The only place you can find music or any sort of fun there is the court, echoes in Geralt’s mind.
A thrill of both excitement and horror runs through the witcher, and he darts a quick look down, where his thumb is still brushing over the bone of Jaskier’s ankle, thin and delicate.
Would it change anything if he really was who the people in town thought he was? Would Geralt have to let go of him then?
Carefully, he asks:
“And you’ve been to court a lot?”
Jaskier shrugs.
“Enough to know that it’s too big. The ballrooms alone are so vast that it’s impossible to concentrate on anything, too many people and sounds and colours mixed into one.”
He shifts just a little and with him shifts the fabric of his breeches revealing a thin strip of pale skin on his ankle. Geralt sneaks a glance down, dying to run his thumb over it, feel the warmth of Jaskier’s skin, and when he finally does, it sends sparks up his fingers.
Jaskier watches him with a gleam in his eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and though Geralt knows that it’s deliberate, he also can’t deny the fact that it’s working. That it makes him wonder what it would feel like to touch his own lips to it. 
What it would taste like.
Except, of course, he’s not allowed to find out.
“Why are you asking about court?” Jaskier asks, his head tilted slightly to the side.
Because the harder I try not to think about it, the more I feel like you really are a prince, Geralt wants to say.  
But before he can think of what to say instead, Asra and Lucio, dripping wet, run into the room, splashing water and dirt everywhere, their paw prints all over the polished wooden floors.
Jaskier laughs, shielding himself from their wet noses, and jumps up to his feet, out of Geralt’s reach.
And just like that, the magic is broken.
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Refuge”
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Happy Saturday, everyone! Welcome to week two of… fourteen? Is that how many episodes we’ve got this Volume? Man, we’re going to be here for a while.
There’s a ton to unpack in “Refuge,” but as promised I want to delve into the opening first. Given the scattered, symbolic nature of our intro I think it’s easiest to just chuck out observations in list form. I’ll segue back into cohesive recapping in a moment.
So, what have we got?
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The glitching between a happy, whole Atlas and the burning wreckage we’re now dealing with. That works well given both Atlas’ tech-focus culture and the ways that tech has led to some of our biggest tragedies (hijacked army, framing Penny, etc.)
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Ruby looks scared and is standing behind the rest of her team, separated from them by the title. I’m not really feeling that theme so far though, given Yang’s incredibly weak challenge, Ruby’s immediate forgiveness (during her talk with Penny), and the fact that she’s still working with half the team who vocally support her, particularly Nora. Unless something drastic changes, the idea of Ruby being the outsider here is silly.
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We get shots of the girls with their past selves superimposed over their bodies and weapons. I like the message here—they carry those versions of themselves with them—just not how it’s contrasted with Ironwood’s image of an earlier Atlas now burning. So that’s all he is now? Everyone gets to embody their growth except for him? His past is erased to focus solely on our current predicament? I’m not picking up any redemption flags here…
Robyn’s hand reaches down towards Clover’s badge, which then circles to show off the Ace Ops. The final image contrasts an angry Harriet with a defeated Qrow. At least, I hope they’re contrasts. It’s going to read as absurd if they somehow end up working together after Qrow helped get her leader killed.
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This morphs into Qrow alone who sits, devastated, until Robyn offers him a hand up and they both smile. I’m not a fan of this symbolism after the prison scene we got this episode. It’s like Qrow might have thought about his choices until Robyn’s anger reminded him that, oh yeah, he can be angry at Ironwood instead. These two teaming up, when their last team-up led to a death, is worrisome to say the least.
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We get our horrifying image of Salem looming over Oscar as he clutches his head. The group’s weapons fall. This makes sense given this episode’s kidnapping and the team’s sheer inability to do anything to stop it.
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Jaune stands determined—also makes sense with his trend of giving “pep talks”—while Ren and Nora stand apart, facing opposite directions. Nora looks back though.
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Paralleling them are Winter and Weiss who also face opposite directions. This is becoming a common visual theme: Harriet and Qrow, Nora and Ren, Winter and Weiss. Here though, Weiss looks determinedly ahead while Winter stares down at her feet, unsure. Ugh, I just know they’re going to have her betray Ironwood too.
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We get a brief glimpse of Whitley and Willow, not a whole lot to go on. Then we see Salem turning her chess pieces into grimm—literally changing the game—while Ironwood’s white pieces are turned to dust. I could make a quip about how white is supposed to go first, but the initial move was made thousands of years before Ironwood existed and thus he never stood a chance, certainly not when his own allies are actively working against him… but I won’t lol
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Watts is smiling at a terminal while at his back Pietro works at his. More opposites. Pietro’s reflection looks to Penny even as his body continues to work, his heart contrasting his head. Penny, in turn, looks upset as her reflection flinches at something off screen and the glass cracks. Watts hacking her, perhaps?
We see the new teams as a cherry blossom (I think?) floats across the screen. It melts in Ren’s hand while escaping Nora’s. Honestly, I’m not sure what to make of that just yet.
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Ruby and Yang share a look—undermining their supposed conflict this volume. Couldn’t we have gotten sister unity over the last three years instead?—and a fight against grimm starts up. It freezes as Cinder walks through it, hopefully implying that the group’s attention is on the wrong threat. While they concern themselves with low-level grimm, Salem and her allies are walking free and wreaking havoc.
Then Cinder screams and clutches her grimm arm as things go up in flames. I hope that’s not a death flag given that we’ve teased her death twice already and we only just got a glimpse at her backstory. Also, I think it’s worth mentioning here that there’s a “Summer is the Hound” theory gaining traction which, frankly, I think is 100% unsubstantiated. It’s a fun crack theory, but not something I’m inclined to take seriously until we get some actual evidence behind it. There is, however, potential evidence for people becoming grimm in general: Salem falling into the pool and Cinder receiving that arm. That’s not much though. So while I’m far from convinced that the Hound was once human—let alone that it was Summer—there is something to the theory that Salem may be able to control Cinder via her arm like she controls other grimm. After all, she knew Cinder was alive despite everyone else thinking she’d perished. They seem to have some sort of connection that hasn’t been explained yet and now that Cinder has willingly walked back into Salem’s clutches, she may not be able to walk out.
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There are shots of all our other villains, the Lamp and the Staff reflected in Salem’s eyes, and Jinn’s blue smoke, perhaps suggesting that we’ll see her again, or the entity residing in the Staff (if they exist).
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Atlas glitches back to normal—a false victory?—before the ice breaks and Team RWBY falls into the darkness below. Volume 3 vibes all around. There’s light above them emanating from the Staff, but as Ruby reaches for it grimm arms circle and pull her deeper. I hope this means that the group will suffer the defeat we need to keep Salem as a legitimate threat, but we had very similar imagery back in Volume 6 and they made it out of that situation just fine, so.
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“Happy Ever After” glitches into “Happy? Never Again.” Which isn’t ominous or anything. We finally end on the classic RWBY image of Crescent Rose buried in the snow underneath the shattered moon.
On the whole I think the opening is strong and I like a lot of the symbolism in it, though I do question how much will actually end up being relevant to the story. My only gripes are that there are too many different styles going on—it feels like three or four different Volume openings slammed together—and the fact that it also feels overly long. I don’t think it’s actually any longer than our Volume 7 opening, but it seems that way to me, perhaps because of those varying styles breaking things up.
So that’s what we’ll be watching for the next twelve weeks! Let’s move onto the actual episode.
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We open on the image of Clover’s bloody badge in Qrow hand, the same one we got in the trailer. I theorized last recap that we’d be getting the rest of our trailer/promo material this week and I was almost entirely correct in that. This moment, retrieving the bikes, fighting off the grimm, Watts getting hit, Oscar carried away… all we’re missing are some eye closeups and Nora powering up her hammer. As said, it makes me nervous for what the rest of the Volume holds. I can’t decide whether the footage wasn’t ready to be included in promo materials that early, or if RT is just determined not to give us any information past the first two episodes…
Regardless, this is supposed to be a moment of grief and all I could focus on was Qrow’s hand. Specifically, the lack of detail in it. On the whole, I’ve been very happy with the engine upgrade and I quite like RWBY’s animation now, but a closeup here draws too much attention to how, sometimes, they’re just not animating their characters in a way that looks natural. Where is Qrow’s wrist? Why is his palm perfectly smooth? Stylistically that’s usually fine, but when given the chance to stare at it you realize how odd it looks. 
Says the woman whose own drawing skills suck but, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
But we’re talking about the important bits in this episode! Out of frame Robyn is heard yelling, “This is your fault. You realize that, don’t you?” We’re meant to think that she’s telling Qrow this, especially with how he’s bent guiltily over the badge, until we cut to reveal Jacques right next to them.
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I wish Robyn was saying all that to Qrow. It would mean that she was ignoring her own responsibility in Clover’s death, but at least it would have started an arc where Qrow has to grapple with what he did. Not the awful moment that’s coming up.
Before that though, Jacques claims that he’s the “victim” here who was “duped.” His hands may not be clean, but “at least I’m not a murderer.” Look, I’m not here to absolve Jacques of anything. The guy is an absolute shit stain on the Remnant world. However, he’s right in his overall point even if his words are BS. Meaning, Jacques is not a victim and he is a murderer, but he is not the one responsible for Clover’s death. Robyn has plenty of things to be furious at him for, but this is not one of them. Ironically, here we have Jacques functioning as the kind of villain the show wants Ironwood to be. He is a murderer because the company he runs exploits faunus and forces them to work in dangerous conditions (see: the death of Ilia’s parents). He is culpable because he a) had control over these conditions and b) has full knowledge of their flaws. He’s a racist who cares more about money than lives. His informed choices then led directly to deaths. Ironwood? Not anywhere near the same thing. Overlooking the “Omg Salem is here and I have to do something about it” context, he did not try to arrest Robyn. He did not force Qrow to resist arrest, or Robyn to get involved, or Qrow to break Clover’s aura, or Tyrian to stab him in the chest. Ironwood had no control or knowledge of these events, so he is not responsible for Clover’s death in the way that Jacques is responsible for the faunus’. RWBY is giving the right arc to the wrong character.
Robyn then insists that Qrow didn’t kill anyone. He didn’t strike the blow, but he certainly helped! Look, Qrow is one of my favorites, but I’m not about to claim that he didn’t have a hand in getting his friend killed. I seriously can’t believe the show is ignoring this.
We then segue into some, uh, questionable dialogue choices. Jacques is a “snake with a mustache”? Sorry, I can’t take Robyn seriously at the best of times, but definitely not when she’s tossing out laugh worthy insults like that. Nevertheless, this “snake with a mustache” is guilty because he “helped that man tear us all apart.” That man being Watts.
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…why are they all in what amounts to the same cell with barriers dividing them? I suppose we could make the argument that they’re being held in some secret facility, given that they’re in this dark, garage-esque space with no lights and no other prisoners. Some sort of maximum security setup that... doesn’t have any other inmates and no additional security? Hmm. Then again, the power is supposed to be out and I don’t really trust RWBY’s ability to craft consistent backgrounds. I feel like they’re packed together merely because that’s plot convenient, not because it makes any sense in world.
Watts looks pretty comfortable in there though and Jacques is likewise full of confidence. He says that by now Whitley will have already called their lawyers to get him out. Now, non-imprisoned people know that the apocalypse is currently underway, as Joanna will later put it. No one is lawyer-ing at the moment, but it will be crucial to see whether Whitley is trying to get Jacques out despite the chaos. How faithful is he to his abuser? Can Willow start undermining Jacques’ influence now that they’re alone?
Jacque’s confidence thoroughly pisses Robyn off and she screams, punching the barrier between them. Keep this in mind for a second. 
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A moment later two guards show up to take Watts somewhere and… oh no. Please don’t tell me Ironwood is going to team up with him now that Penny has written him off? I know the guy has (presumably) already killed someone, and he must assume he’s killed Oscar, so we’re definitely in full villain territory despite the stupidity of it… but please don’t start working with Salem’s henchmen too. You know what? I’m not going to assume the worst until I actually see it. RWBY gives me enough nonsense as it is lol.
What I really want to talk about is that hit. 
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I’m somewhat concerned by a lot of the fandom’s reaction to this moment in comparison to another. Who remembers Volume 6? That scene when Qrow punched Ozpin directly into a tree? Now, I’m not keeping track of who says what when—this is a generalized reaction—but I saw a lot of posts defending that action. There were numerous justifications for the punch, but the three big ones were: 1. These characters are fighters and they’re used to it, 2. These characters have aura so it’s not that bad, and 3. Ozpin totally deserved it. Now, the problems here are that 1a. I don’t think punching someone when they’re crying on their knees is justified, whether they’re a fighter or not, 1b. Qrow was likewise punching Oscar, a totally innocent kid, 2. We had established earlier that Oscar was having trouble remembering to activate his aura and didn’t seem to have it active then (no ripple effect, he’s rubbing his jaw afterwards), and 3. Ozpin’s crimes are, as explored on this blog, not nearly the horrific actions that the story and fandom would like to paint them as. The point is that despite all this, lots and lots of fans said it was totally okay to punch Ozpin&Oscar. What’s the big deal? they asked. Now, lots and lots of fans—mostly when the trailer first dropped—say it’s not okay to punch Watts. Despite the fact that he’s also a fighter. Despite the fact that his aura has broken. Despite the fact that he’s not currently a threat (seated on the bed/Ozpin on his knees). Despite the fact that he’s responsible for helping Salem try to take over the world. If we were to make a case for who deserves to get hit, Watts is a WAY stronger candidate in my opinion, yet he’s the one who a lot of fans are scrambling to defend. Why? I assume it’s because hitting him feeds into the generalized police state/dictator theme Ironwood has been thrown into. It helps villainize Ironwood for fans to go, “Poor Watts. He’s done horrific things but no one deserves to face police brutality.” I agree. The only problem is that a lot of those same fans seem to have gone, “Ozpin can get over it. He deserved to be hit! I would have done a whole lot worse to him…” So is the difference only that one attacker is a military professional and the other is… a huntsmen professional who soon after that scene starts working for the military? Yeah. The show continually ignores that the group aren’t the rogue heroes they pretend to be. They worked under Ironwood for weeks, if not months.
The show isn’t clear about its morals and neither are the fans, with both changing tactics whenever it helps blame the character they already don’t like. When Robyn punches the barrier, do we really think she wouldn’t have hit Jacques if given the chance? Why would it be heroic for her to hit the Evil Man but it’s not okay for the grunt minor character to hit the other Evil Man? These morals don’t change just because you like Robyn and don’t like Ironwood. 
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Jumping ahead for a moment, we get another example of this hypocrisy with Joanna. A reporter is informing the people that the military seems to have stopped evacuations and there is an unheard number of grimm hanging out overhead, both things that are objective facts. He’s reporting as he should, sticking to what’s known and provable, and thus is, notably, not some lackey of Ironwood’s who is hastily presented as evil. Yet Joanna treats him like he is. She snatches the microphone from him and, when he starts to protest, threatens him with her weapon. After she’s done hijacking the feed, she shoves him on her way out.
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Look at how scared this guy is. These are our heroes? This back and forth doesn’t work. Prior to his random killing spree, Ironwood took his fear and frustration out on some furniture, yet the show acted as if he was hurting real people. The mere possibility that he might use violence and intimidation to achieve heroic goals—getting Amity up/escaping Salem—was enough to label him as an antagonist because the understanding was that you can’t act like that no matter what your intentions are. Yet our current heroes can use as much violence and intimidation as they want to achieve their own heroic goal of warning the people? Do we think the story will encourage us to be critical of the group if they start beating up a bunch of Atlas goons to reach the access point? Of course not. And it’s that flip-flopping that’s the problem. Your heroes have to function differently than the villains in order for them to be heroes. Under that logic, our heroes haven’t acted like heroes since mid-Volume 6 and it’s getting harder and harder to watch.
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Especially when we take the scene before this into account. Yup, we’ve still got Qrow gunning for Ironwood. Robyn bemoans the fact that they can’t do anything, to which Qrow replies, “We can do something. We can kill the man who put us here.” I… feel like I shouldn’t start repeating myself given how long this recap is—we’ll be here for forever lol—BUT I hope everyone reading this understands precisely how little this makes sense. How god awful a choice it is. I mean c’mon. Robyn attacked Clover unprovoked, Qrow teamed up with Tyrian, he broke Clover’s aura, Tyrian murdered him, Salem is here, and now he’s sitting in a cell with Watts and Jacques… but Ironwood is the guy he wants to kill? REALLY, QROW? THAT’S WHO YOU’RE GOING TO GO AFTER? I really can’t with this show sometimes. RWBY, put your clown makeup on.
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We get a cut to Ironwood’s image just so there’s no confusion about who Qrow wants to help kill next and Joanna threatens that reporter who, you know, is also a citizen in need of help and protection… Her “General Ironwood has abandoned you, but we have not” sounds absolutely ridiculous when we just watched her intimidating this guy to get what she wants. ‘You can trust us! Unless we randomly decide we don’t like you.’ I have other things to say about Yang calling out that racist woman later on, but she gets props for helping her regardless. Honestly, I don’t get that sense from the cast very often: that they’d help you even if they don’t agree with you. They certainly didn’t offer that to Ozpin, Ironwood, or the Ace Ops.
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There’s a very long shot of a scared toddler staring out the window, just to hammer home how young and innocent Mantle is. Seriously, pay attention to our imagery: Mantle is scared children in homes, cute children fist-bumping Jaune, family photos lost in the street, a stuffed toy run over by hoverbikes. It’s meant to evoke a general sense of domesticity and, again, innocence. Meanwhile, Atlas is only shown via Ironwood and Jacques, the villains. Where are the families living up in the sky? The children? The humanizing details? Our racist woman is an outlier who is quickly silenced by Yang. The rest of Mantle is characterized as victims: scared women, worried fathers, the faunus huddling together in the slums, even another racist who, while an asshole, is supposed to have a point about things like the embargo. Which is all true. These characters are all of these things, it’s just that they’re not unique in this. All this exists above too—from those families, to the faunus slave labor, to the beloved objects that remind you of someone’s worth—but they’re ignored to provide a simplistic look at Atlas as the villain. 
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Throughout this entire episode the group tosses out snide remarks about how “They” don’t care about you and it’s just… they who? The other thousands of innocents who have nothing to do with Ironwood? The hundreds of Mantle citizens you already evacuated? The redeemable people like Winter and Whitley? The group fights alongside a Schnee who was one of the most vocal racists a year and a half ago, yet writes off the entirety of Atlas as the bad guys. What a mess.
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As Joanna’s voiceover finishes, we cut to Yang’s group going after Pietro’s tech. I already covered this scene in our promo material, but to summarize here: horrible tone. Absolutely nonsensical given the situation. Salem is here and Yang is giggling over bikes. In fact, the tone is off for most of the episode (our end being the wonderful exception): Yang’s joy ride, antics with the Mantle citizens, Blake poking fun at Weiss, the tube scene… none of it fits the context of the series’ big bad here to kill everyone. Arguments along the lines of, “But it can’t be doom and gloom all the time” or “This is a brilliant parallel to Volume 3 with happy times heralding tragedy” don’t erase the fact that our cast isn’t taking this threat seriously. Last week Weiss’ “We’re never going to sleep again” moment worked because it’s humor in the context of how bad everything is. All of this? It’s just the group goofing off despite supposedly being in mortal danger. This?
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This doesn’t read well. I’d argue this scene is even worse in context due to lines like “The others are definitely missing out.” In our promo material I assumed that the group just split for the sake of splitting and they were, in fact, just missing out on something cool. But we’ve since learned that they split due to a fundamental disagreement about how to help people, a split Ruby compared to Salem’s plans, a split that Yang started! Why is she now acting like their separation is a funny “missing out” moment? It’s like if half your friend group decided to go to the movies while the other half went to a party with an unexpectedly good DJ. The movie-goers are people who are “missing out,” not the group who went off to take over a military base and everyone left angry.
Keep in mind that Ozpin is also back. Every fun times scene with Oscar in it has the added problem of Ozpin hanging back, not saying anything, not acknowledged, still a secret.
The other issue I brought up weeks back was the lack of grimm. Why are the streets deserted? Shouldn’t the army be overrunning the city? Well, turns out that there’s no army because… Salem just hasn’t bothered to send it into the city yet? When Jaune and Ren take out the low-level grimm Oscar asks if they’ve “already pushed this far in,” to which Yang replies, “No, I think those are from last night.” A few minutes later, last night’s grimm change to new non-Salem grimm as Oscar observes, “It’s the negativity. Salem’s forces aren’t moving in, but it’s enough to attract the stragglers.” Later still, Joanna asks, “…grimm are circling out there. What are they waiting for?” GOOD QUESTION. We don’t know, but it’s real convenient, isn’t it? RWBY redeems itself a bit at the end of this episode with that Hound grimm, but I’m still calling it out for having Salem hold off long enough for the group to evacuate pretty much all of Mantle and infiltrate the base. That’s real nice of her. As the characters keep pointing out, it would be a staggeringly different situation if they were overrun with grimm right now, huh? Kind of like the situation Ironwood (rightfully) assumed they’d be dealing with.
Again, I’m so glad our Big Bad is kind enough to let the heroes do everything they need to before lifting a finger to attack them.
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RWBY seems to be setting up a, “See! There was always time to evacuate the city!” accusation even though no one could have known that and it makes zero logical sense. Salem brings an army with her so she can not use the army against Atlas? Right…
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This all segues directly into our other promo scene. My initial comments still stand: the tone doesn’t work, the lack of urgency doesn’t work (Jaune playing with the kid, Oscar politely knocking on doors), the low-level grimm are not a threat, that shield is useless against anything not driven by plot convenience, and it’s weird for Jaune to be yelling, “Heads up!” when there’s no one in front of him. As said, this moment really doesn’t sit well given everything that’s going on. I had hoped that it would read better when seen in the episode itself, but that’s sadly not the case.  
After Ren one-shots the grimm Jaune suggests that they use his amplified semblance to get everyone to the crater safely. Ren seems less than pleased about this, but agrees. Right now, it’s easy to say that he’s in a bad mood because Nora is mad at him, but what about the Volume before? Where’s this underlying tension coming from? I can come up with lots of theories, but at some point the show needs to confirm something. The longer we go not explaining what’s wrong with Ren, the less faith I have that it will make sense when we get it.
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We see the racist woman upset that they have to go live with the “animals in the slums” rather than going up to Atlas. As said, I like that Yang helps her despite clearly hating the woman, I also think her criticism holds up well (ignoring the simplified ‘They abandoned you’ narrative). The only thing that bugs me is RWBY continually presenting racism as a problem to throw a band-aid on and then pat yourself on the back for ‘solving.’ Racist drunk says shit? Toss him in the trash! Racist woman says shit? Remind her that her survival depends on you! It’s not that these responses aren’t earned, but that we’re given them instead of an actual arc that tackles the complexities of this issue. I mean, Blake has abandoned the White Fang and we’ve barely mentioned the faunus slave labor in Atlas. When they head to the dust facility it’s conveniently run by bots instead of faunus. Can you imagine if Weiss Schnee walked into a group of exploited minorities, hoping to use them to access a military base? But of course, there’s nothing like that. RWBY ignores the actual issues for these simple solutions. Heroes just attack/threaten racists and then it all goes away. Yay.
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The other problem with this scene is that we learn the crater is the slums. Um… what? Hold on, Joanna made it sound like it’s a separate place, potentially inhabited by grimm, yet it’s the same area Oscar was in last episode? How is that area warmer? This makes no sense to me.
Also, ha, the crater below Atlas apparently houses all the “animals” that Team RWBYJNR is very protective of. I’m waiting for them to do something that messes with the Staff—Ruby reaching for it in the opening—Atlas crashes down on a whole city of exploited minorities, and then Ironwood is blamed for it somehow. Can’t wait for that episode.
So the group starts making their way there and hark! An Ozpin! I’m always thrilled to hear him, even if he’s treated just terribly by the show. Oscar is at the back of the group and comments that “It should not be this hard just getting people to cooperate.” Except… they are cooperating? Oscar, you are watching them cooperate right in front of you. That one woman might grumble a bit, but she hasn’t made a move or said a word about not doing what you say. Where did this complaint come from? Another example of RWBY insisting something is there when it simply isn’t. More importantly, Ozpin responds:
“And yet, it’s becoming something I’m increasingly concerned about.”
“You know, I really don’t need your additional comments right now.”
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Then why did you comment out loud, Oscar? What, do you normally talk to yourself like that? You were clearly speaking to Ozpin! Don’t criticize him for responding. I hate traps like that.
Ozpin immediately says that Oscar has every right to be upset and apologizes for leaving… it’s not apologizing for his entire existence like I wrote on the bingo board, but it’s close. Who’s surprised that Ozpin is the first to offer (another) apology? Not me. Oscar corrects him with, “I’m upset you came back!”
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Okay. Here’s the thing. I like the idea of Oscar rejecting Ozpin both because he’s taken over his life and because Oscar has suffered horribly due to Ozpin’s presence (punched, slammed into walls, kidnapping attempts, etc.) That makes sense, it’s actually morally complex, and it’s great groundwork for character growth. The only problem is… this came out of nowhere. Oscar was shown accepting this new life when he left the farm. Then again when he insisted on fighting Hazel. Then again all the times he’s been told he’s acting like Ozpin and seems to accept that just fine. He’s clearly pleased with this new badass self he’s got going on—he even says as much—yet doesn’t want to acknowledge Ozpin as the catalyst for all this positive change. Okay, that’s something we could still work through, but what about the group? Fans are already theorizing that this is why Oscar is keeping Ozpin a secret, because he’s scared of how the group will react, punishing him to get at Ozpin again, and though he 100% has reasons for thinking that will happen, Oscar hasn’t shown that fear before now. Qrow punches him? Bonding moment with Ruby. Jaune attacks him? I made you all dinner. They all smile over his inevitable death/disappearance? He smiles back. Yang is the most scream-y? Happy to have her using him as an armrest. The group continually ignores him and treats him with suspicion? Not a peep of protest. It’s horrifying that Oscar accepted how the group previously treated him, but he did accept it. Where did this fear come from if we haven’t seen it in response to the harm done towards him? Just as importantly, can’t we have an arc where Oscar is mad at the team some too? I’ll admit that the general premise of blaming Ozpin makes sense for the traumatized fourteen-year old, but after two years of blaming Ozpin for everything… aren’t we sick of this? His team has actively hurt him, outside of Ozpin’s ability to prevent, yet Ozpin is the one who takes all the heat for their behavior. “I felt like I was actually part of the team” should lead to the realization of, “Hey, Yang shouldn’t yell at both of us for things outside of our control” not, “Hey, you should stay away forever because others have decided they don’t like you.”
All of this following Ozpin saving Oscar’s life in the airship. Then saving his life again after Ironwood shot him. Our heroes are real grateful, huh. I hate that RWBY is taking another fave and doing them dirty, though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. 
Ozpin also mentions his magic—would be nice if Oscar brought that up with the team!—and that he is now “recollecting my longest held memories.” He…is? When? Don’t you think that’s something important to show us? We keep being told that “the merge” is occurring but not shown what that actually means. Seriously, when did Oscar get slammed with that many memories??
Please just use the aura machine and give Ozpin a robot body. RT doesn’t have the chops for writing this situation.
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As they continue on towards the crater Ren snaps at Jaune about not needing a “pep talk.” Jaune looks annoyed at the attitude which, fair. It says a lot about the writing the last few years that Jaune is the character I’m least frustrated with lol. Likely because they haven’t had him do anything lately which, given that he’s not one of the title characters and our cast is bloated enough as it is, I’m still totally fine with.
Ozpin concludes the scene with, “We need to find a way to work together. Not just the two of us, all of us” with the camera panning up to look at Atlas. I’m glad someone isn’t ready to throw Ironwood under the bus. Given how the group reacted to him sparing Lionheart’s name though, I don’t think they’ll follow Ozpin in his forgiveness. If anything, I expect this perspective to just be more hate fuel.  
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We move to Ruby’s group which now includes May. Woohoo! She still hasn’t gotten half the screen time as Joanna, but I’m really glad she’s here. In fact, between a useful semblance and that adorable courtesy, I love her already. Despite, you know, helping the team break into the base and all that. Everyone has their flaws lol.  
She also frames the Amity plan as getting the world “talking again.” Why is everything presented like a fun romp rather than avoiding death via Salem? Absolutely terrible tone this episode.
The group hilariously waltzes past a sign labeled AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY and enters the dust facility with the bots I mentioned earlier. This I do like. My hypothetical scenario incorporating the racism issue aside, I like that Weiss is using her knowledge and connections to further the mission, rather than something conveniently dropping into the group’s lap. Like Amity suddenly being ready for launch…So yeah, it makes sense that Weiss would know of a potential way in.  
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Sending someone up through the tubes though? Ehhh… I know they have aura and everything—and that Zwei was once mailed—but are we sure this is safe?? Doesn’t matter because Nora sends Weiss through with a misplaced button press. Good thing that was the tube heading to the base. Too bad Weiss is heading to a guarded military base alone. It should have been May going first with her semblance activated, but no. Chuck this onto the ever increasing ‘Bad Tone’ pile. There should not be giggles over Weiss being in that level of danger, especially with everything else going on. Ruby’s expression is the only one on point.
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Before Weiss is yeeted off though, Penny and Ruby have a talk wherein Ruby lies her ass off. Penny says, “I do not like it when friends fight” and when Ruby starts talking about Yang she corrects her, revealing that she’s actually thinking about Winter and Ironwood. “They were our friends.”
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I was ready to sing Penny’s praises and really, she still gets credit for being the only one who has acknowledged this, but her opinion is (once again) overridden by Ruby’s. Penny goes, “but then the Ace Ops attacked you” which Ruby doesn’t bother to correct. How would Penny know otherwise? The only information she has about that battle is what Ruby has told her, but Ruby is lying via omission here. The Ace Ops never attacked her. They very explicitly refused to start a fight. Ruby attacked them. Then when Penny is upset that Ironwood said “people were going to die because of me,” Ruby takes her by the shoulders and angrily insists, “That was a lie and he was only saying it to hurt you.”
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Ruby… you’re the one lying. You know damn well Ironwood didn’t just say that to hurt Penny. Oh yeah, the general trying to keep a kingdom alive from an immortal witch is preoccupied with hurting Penny’s feelings for no reason other than being evil. That makes sense. More importantly, Ironwood is right. Look, I’m by no means blaming Penny for anything. She fought off Cinder, took the power when there was no other choice, and has now gotten caught up in Ruby’s plans which include incredibly misleading information that Penny has no reason to question. She’s doing her best and deserves that hug. But that doesn’t mean she lacks responsibility here. Ironwood needs Penny to evacuate. Penny—listening to Ruby—won’t help him. Ergo, if something happens to the people up in Atlas Penny will be partly responsible. If I have the key to a door with lots of people trapped behind it as a fire rages, and I refuse to open that door, I have indeed allowed a lot of people to die. As Penny says, she didn’t want this responsibility… but she has it. She has to deal with it. Too bad she’s with Ruby who encourages her to ignore it instead, insisting that nothing bad that happens after their choices could in any way be connected to them. Kind of like Qrow ignoring his own actions against Clover.
Because that’s the takeaway from this scene. Penny had empathy for their friends and then Ruby talked her out of it. She never even acknowledges that those were indeed seven friends that she betrayed. That’s horrible.
What happened to Ruby? I used to love this girl.
Continuing our tone issue, Nora is watching this show like her favorite soap is on. Okay then.
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Weiss goes up the tube and then we cut to Fiona saying that… the Mantle police are helping them evacuate? So the military is bad, but the police are good? I need to stop trying to make sense of RWBY’s allegory.
When Yang and the others return Fiona makes an innocent comment about being worried about how they’d fare without the rest of their team. Yang is pissed.
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Ah, so we’re back to her giving allies attitude for random observations. Remember the anger at Marrow for suggesting she and Blake try different team-ups? Now here Yang is, in a different team-up, doing quite well. Funny how we never acknowledge who first suggested that. Now, Fiona reveals a totally logical worry that losing four fighters might make a difference when fending off grimm, but Yang is poised to be angry at everyone, about everything, all the time. Which I get is something that a lot of fans like. I’ve already seen a couple of posts praising RT for letting Robyn and Yang be angry without consequences because women often can’t do that and, fair. That is indeed one way to read it. My problem is that their anger is actually irrational, not just called as much because we women are ~emotional~. Their anger isn’t justified: Robyn because she had a significant hand in all this nonsense (that she’s ignoring) and Yang because it’s clear Fiona means no harm here. This is anger that needs to be called out, not ignored because yay women expressing emotion. That kind of defense is reserved for a woman’s justified anger that needs to be expressed without criticism, especially in a narrative that tries to undermine her perspective. But what has Fiona done to Yang? Nothing. More importantly, the show has yet to teach Yang a better coping mechanism than lashing out at people, be it with her fists, words, or angry glares. Yang has been through the ringer and it makes sense that she’s angry, but that doesn’t mean she gets a lifelong pass to treat those around her badly. 
Anyway, Joanna says they have a lot of people to keep warm even though the crater was supposed to be warmer? And they’re stealing dust? So what are they using it for it not heat? We’re not seeing any difference here and frankly all the civilians should be dead by now. Or at least entering hypothermia. (Give me that conflict: how do you keep people safe when they’re not all conveniently up for walking all the way to the slums?) Joanna also says that they’re trying to get the “Old mine shafts into a livable condition” which would take how long exactly? In fact, I’d say our timeline is already wonky. We’ve watched Yang hide the Ace Ops last Volume, fly to Winter and Penny, find the Happy Huntresses, wait around for Oscar to show up, ran off on her own at some point to scout, went to get bikes, evacuated all those people to the (far away) slums, then went back out to fight off the grimm. That had to have taken up a good chunk of the night, though it’s impossible to tell the time with Atlas’ snowy sky. I’m leaning towards a bingo mark though…
The faunus who I thought was a badger or something is… a bear I guess? He has a bear-like paw, but his nails seem too long… I honestly don’t know. But he’s Fiona’s uncle! Cute. She's off to deal with a fight that’s starting while the group goes to fight more grimm. Finally, the episode gets good.
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The teamwork to take out the dragon grimm was nice, always glad to see it, but the real fight starts when two more grunts show up and then immediately run away. What could have scared them off?
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The Hound. (I’m sorry, all I can think of is Game of Thrones when I write that, but it seems to be the name the fandom is adopting, so…) Remember how I said it was unlikely to be a threat on its own? I WAS WRONG. Holy shit this thing is terrifying. It snatches Oscar and in some wonderfully quick animation absolutely obliterates the kid. Oscar is thrown around like a chew toy, desperately trying to rabbit kick at this thing and it does [checks notes] absolutely nothing. I’d normally say something about our farm boy always getting the shit kicked out of him, but this scene was too good for my salt.
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Then it changes shape, growing arms, and starts using Oscar as a shield. Yang can’t pull back in time and is snagged by her head, the Hound tossing her into the wall hard enough to break the stone. She’s still conscious though and warns the others about its strategy.
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“But grimm aren’t that smart,” Jaune says. Maybe if you kids (Fiona keeps calling them kids) had stayed in school you would have learned that grimm get smarter with age! Oobleck knew that. Or, just as likely, this is a special Salem grimm. Hard to say at this point.
The point though is that the group is helpless in the face of this monster. I do want to emphasize this. I’ve seen a few people criticizing them for not doing enough to save Oscar and it’s like, what did you want them to do? Yang tried to attack and the grimm nearly had her hitting Oscar instead. Ren tried to attack and the grimm changed so fast his weapon was useless. Factor in that morphing—which the group has never seen before—the horror of Oscar hanging there limp, and the general fighter response of, ‘I can’t just keep attacking head on because that thing might kill me,’ and you realize the group was screwed from the start. They can’t stand up against this thing, not without a good strategy anyway, which there’s no time to think up. For the first time in years, ever since Tyrian, Salem actually made the right, villainous call.
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Ren screams, “Give him back!”—which was just lovely in an angsty way—and the grimm creepily cuddles Oscar against his chest. Then he responds, “No.” Yeah, they’ve never seen that before either. Can you blame them for their shock? I’m impressed that they were on their bikes just seconds later, managing to keep the grimm in sight. That speaks to their combat experience. Not the ability to power through a situation where they’re clearly outmatched, but their ability to pick themselves back up and try again.
... Ah, so that’s why Pietro was oh so randomly making them bikes. The plot needed a way for them to keep up with a flying grimm. Got it.
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My takeaway? RT should be writing horror. They’re far better at it. The animation, sound effects, voice acting, the grimm’s speech and protective instincts, that splatter of goo on Oscar’s cheek… 
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... stellar all around. Like the Apathy, this is the best I think RWBY has been since the lore episode of Volume 6. Granted, action sequences like this aren’t required to grapple with any of the messy morals and character consistency of other scenes, but still. If RWBY had just given me a lighthearted ‘Girls fight cartoon monsters’ show or a horror fueled ‘Girls fight monster abominations’ show, I’d have been happy. This? This is the only redeeming part of the episode. And it’s indeed one hell of a redemption. Look at this thing!
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I’m not going to say it erases all the bad we got—it doesn’t—or that it likewise erases problems like Salem not using the rest of her army, but it’s a notable step in the right direction. This grimm is a threat. This grimm is a mountain the cast has to overcome. If this is the minion its master should be Everest. I still think this Volume is going down the tubes fast (it’s going the way of Weiss lol), but if it can give me more scenes like this? It might not be a total loss.
Last thing to acknowledge: What about Ozpin? I’ll admit it doesn’t look good. Given how fast he takes control he should have been able to override Oscar’s will and at least fight back a little with that spectacular magic we saw during the finale. So why didn’t he? I hope we get an in-world explanation: it happened so fast even Ozpin couldn’t do anything (shaky, but I’ll take it in a pinch), now that the merge is farther along he can no longer take control—something. Because I can easily imagine how quickly the fandom, and even the cast, will turn on him for not playing deus ex machina here. In reality, I think Ozpin didn’t take control simply because the plot needed him not to. The writers needed Oscar kidnapped so any potential out from that is conveniently forgotten… which is another knock against their writing, despite how great the scene otherwise was. The point is to take all these potential pushbacks and find a satisfying way to circumvent them, not pretend they don’t exist. RT can still save themselves here by providing that explanation later, so I hope they’re smart enough to do that. Ozpin has been blamed for everything at this point. His own kidnapping doesn’t need to be added to the list.
Also, still no word on Schrödinger's councilman. We’ve got to wait another week to see whether he’s dead or not.
Finally, let’s update the bingo card!
I’m crossing off “Ruby gives an ‘inspiring’ speech built on ignoring facts she doesn’t like” for that conversation with Penny. Yeah, it’s a speech to her alone about her worth, but Ruby mischaracterized the situation so badly I’m mad at her lol
I never thought the story would straight up just not have the grimm army attacking, so I think I’ll hold off on “Army of grimm conveniently doesn’t kill any civilians” until we see if/when it gets involved.
I’ll likewise hold off on the timeline slot until we see how bad things get…
Maria is on thin ice given that we have no idea what she’s supposedly doing while the group is off on their missions. Stay tuned.
Today we’re crossing off “Deadly cold conveniently doesn’t kill any civilians.” They should all be dropping like flies by now.
A friend pointed out that Cinder’s Cinderella flashback counts as an “Overly obvious fairy tale allusion.” In fact, I talked about how much of a shorthand that is, so that’s getting a mark.
From last week I’ve also decided to include Amity for “Retconning previous lore.” Now that the group is fully underway with their plan it reads as even more egregious that we were told it wasn’t ready.
I’ll hold off on Ozpin’s space for a while. See if he apologizes to the whole group and, if so, exactly what for.
“Oscar is finally kidnapped”—check!
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Well, that’s a whole lot of headway this week. Can’t wait to see where the next episode takes us... Here’s hoping we spend a lot of time with that Hound. MVP of the episode.
Until next time! 💜
[Ko-Fi]
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bigskydreaming · 3 years
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I’m still thinking through names I like for Cass better than Orphan or Black Bat (which I don’t hate like I do Orphan, but I’ve always felt that the name Black Bat came more out of just ‘come up with something franchise themed’ than trying to find something for Cass specifically), for when she’s not Batgirl or Steph is instead. Not for any particular project or anything, I’ve just been stuck on that train of thought since falling onto it the other day.
I think I’ve given up on it being Red themed lol. My dreams for Batfam symmetry are doomed to come to naught. C’est la vie.
Currently though most of the ideas I have are all central to or revolving around communication or connection, because I honestly think those are thematically so PIVOTAL to who Cass is.....but the danger is something like that coming across as ironic due to Cass not being particularly talkative in a lot of peoples’ interpretations or views, and its absolutely not meant to be, not for the reasons I’m thinking.
Like because the thing about her childhood is....there’s so much to focus on that was fucked up about what David Cain put her through, its impossible to have a specific place to ‘start’. But I think something that definitely at least has to be way up there is the isolation he forced her to live most of her early life in. Deprived of even the POSSIBILITY of connection to others. Because connection is so fundamental to what makes us human. As well as to what makes Cass “Cass.” Cass THRIVES due to the connections she chooses for herself. Don’t get me wrong, she’s fully capable on her own, its not about suggesting she’s reliant on them.....for me, its more about the triumph of her having the freedom and CHOICE now to connect herself to as many people as she chooses, when originally her father had meant for her to basically exist APART from society. Emphasizing the importance of connection and communication to Cass is like, a definite fuck you to her dad and his plans for her, a symbol of her freedom and independence. 
But also its not JUST that, because its also just about the sheer joy of connecting for Cass, because its the fulfillment of dreams she never really expected to become reality. Because as much as her life with David defined a large portion of her childhood, she was also shaped in no small part by the years she spent on her own....where even though she was out from under Cain’s thumb, she was still influenced by the specter of him and everything he’d ever said to her. She kept herself apart from society for the most part, even though now technically she was free to mingle among it if she chose....because she felt guilt-ridden over the death she’d been party to though it had never truly been her fault and she was very much Cain’s victim there as well as the man who died, rather than him being her victim.
But the point is, a lot of the second half of her childhood was spent in silence as well, albeit self-imposed silence....except also no, fuck that, it wasn’t self-imposed because she was still suffering from the trauma of her worldview being so heavily shaped and influenced by her abusive fucknugget of a father, who’d essentially spent years convincing her that words weren’t for her, that communication, that connection, those were things for people other than her but would forever elude her because she just wasn’t BORN to partake in those things. She stayed outside of society, made no real effort to figure out if she COULD learn to communicate like others did, because her abuse in no small part had revolved around making her believe it was just her place to be silent, her role. That a weapon didn’t need words.
So in the family and fulfillment Cass found later in Barbara and Bruce and Steph and others, like.....it wasn’t just about her finding companionship or even a sense of purpose or direction......she found a voice. Even if she speaks more with sign than out loud or even if she has trouble translating her thoughts into words or sign language due to learning disability or the like, Cass very much COMMUNICATES, she connects, she has things to say, and she more than anyone understands the importance of a voice, whether spoken or written or signed, of the power inherent in just being able to use it and express oneself.
And its equally key that Bruce and Babs and others didn’t GIVE that to her, because how could they? It was something she had all along because the reality is no matter how hard he tried, it was something Cain couldn’t truly take from her. All he could do (and make no mistake, I use “all he could do” to emphasize the ultimate failure of his attempts to control her rather than to dilute the extent of trauma his abuse did inflict) - but even his attempts to cut her off from people and isolate her via an inability to communicate.....they relied wholly on denying her the tools and opportunities to learn how to make use of her voice, of the things she wanted and needed to say. 
So its not a gift that Babs and Bruce bestowed on her, because it wasn’t something anyone COULD give her anymore than it could fully be taken from her. But they did help her find that she had things to say and she had ways to say them. That she deserved to be heard and understood as much as anybody, and that she had so much in her that had just been waiting for someone to tell it to and ways for her to do that. They helped show her how to connect her voice to the right audiences for it, to communicate to people who would hear her and as Batgirl and Black Bat.....to people who NEEDED to hear her. For whom the things she could communicate via her actions and protection as much as anything else.....like that was a message they needed to hear themselves due to the abusers and villains in their own lives.
And I just see that as so.....triumphant for Cass is the word I honestly keep going back to the most.
I’ve called Dick’s approach to vigilantism his form of performance art. Carrying something that holds great importance to him even if others might overlook its significance, into what he does as a vigilante in ways that everyone he helps benefits from. Even if they don’t realize that his light-hearted performances even while sweeping them out of the path of danger is as much to help buffer them from the trauma of what is happening to them and how much they’ve already suffered.....those are as much a part of his aim to protect and make peoples’ lives better as his actual martial arts.
In the same sense, I consider Cass’ approach to vigilantism her form of connectivity. Its her message to people who need to hear, to see, to believe that there is help for them out there, that there is someone who wants to come for them, someone who wants to bring them out of whatever hole or isolation or danger they’ve fallen or been forced into....they need this as much as Cass needs it to be able to say look at me, look at my actions, I did that, I said that, that was ME.
For Cass, I feel vigilantism is about finding her voice, finding ways to put into message form others can understand even on a primal level the things she wants to communicate, that she wishes had been communicated earlier to her...that everyone deserves to be connected, to have connections, and to just....speak. In whatever form they can or choose to.
Its about the ability and freedom to use her voice, to impart her messages....and see those things have IMPACT. Be heard. Seen. Communicated.
And for those reasons I keep coming back to something like Songbird, but its ugh....its such a Catch 22. It would be so easy to misconstrue, but honestly I think it fits what I’m describing so well and like.....whatever, ultimately it doesn’t matter since this is just a headcanony thing anyway and not going to actually change anything, but like....I am The Undecided.
(Also I know Marvel already has a Songbird, but a) I dont care, like Marvel is stupid so umm why would that even matter yeah thats what I thought and b) I mean Songbird is an easy name to attach to any color one wants to make part of her name and ascribe particular significance to. Like she could be Red Songbird? Scarlet Songbird? Yes? No? Give up the dream Kalen, Big Red, Middle Red and Lil’ Red just ain’t it? Ugh, fine. Booo.)
But anyway, that’s what I’ve been musing on.
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Religious Trauma Syndrome: How Some Organized Religion Leads to Mental Health Problems
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By Valerie Tarico
Marlene Winell interviewed March 25, 2013
At age sixteen I began what would be a four year struggle with bulimia. When the symptoms started, I turned in desperation to adults who knew more than I did about how to stop shameful behavior—my Bible study leader and a visiting youth minister.  “If you ask anything in faith, believing,” they said. “It will be done.” I knew they were quoting [3] the Word of God. We prayed together, and I went home confident that God had heard my prayers. But my horrible compulsions didn’t go away. By the fall of my sophomore year in college, I was desperate and depressed enough that I made a suicide attempt. The problem wasn’t just the bulimia. I was convinced by then that I was a complete spiritual failure. My college counseling department had offered to get me real help (which they later did). But to my mind, at that point, such help couldn’t fix the core problem: I was a failure in the eyes of God. It would be years before I understood that my inability to heal bulimia through the mechanisms offered by biblical Christianity was not a function of my own spiritual deficiency but deficiencies in Evangelical religion itself.  
Dr. Marlene Winell is a human development consultant in the San Francisco Area. She is also the daughter of Pentecostal missionaries. This combination has given her work an unusual focus. For the past twenty years she has counseled men and women in recovery from various forms of fundamentalist religion including the Assemblies of God denomination in which she was raised. Winell is the author of Leaving the Fold – A Guide for Former Fundamentalists and Others Leaving their Religion [4], written during her years of private practice in psychology. Over the years, Winell has provided assistance to clients whose religious experiences were even more damaging than mine. Some of them are people whose psychological symptoms weren’t just exacerbated by their religion, but actually caused by it.  
Two years ago, Winell made waves by formally labeling what she calls “Religious Trauma Syndrome” (RTS) and beginning to write and speak on the subject for professional audiences. When the British Association of Behavioral and Cognitive Psychologists published a series of articles on the topic, members of a Christian counseling association protested what they called excessive attention to a “relatively niche topic.” One commenter said, “A religion, faith or book cannot be abuse but the people interpreting can make anything abusive.”
Is toxic religion simply misinterpretation? What is religious trauma? Why does Winell believe religious trauma merits its own diagnostic label?
Let’s start this interview with the basics. What exactly is religious trauma syndrome?
Winell: Religious trauma syndrome (RTS) is a set of symptoms and characteristics that tend to go together and which are related to harmful experiences with religion. They are the result of two things: immersion in a controlling religion and the secondary impact of leaving a religious group. The RTS label provides a name and description that affected people often recognize immediately. Many other people are surprised by the idea of RTS, because in our culture it is generally assumed that religion is benign or good for you. Just like telling kids about Santa Claus and letting them work out their beliefs later, people see no harm in teaching religion to children.
But in reality, religious teachings and practices sometimes cause serious mental health damage. The public is somewhat familiar with sexual and physical abuse in a religious context. As Journalist Janet Heimlich has documented in, Breaking Their Will, Bible-based religious groups that emphasize patriarchal authority in family structure and use harsh parenting methods can be destructive.
But the problem isn’t just physical and sexual abuse. Emotional and mental treatment in authoritarian religious groups also can be damaging because of 1) toxic teachings like eternal damnation or original sin 2) religious practices or mindset, such as punishment, black and white thinking, or sexual guilt, and 3) neglect that prevents a person from having the information or opportunities to develop normally.
Can you give me an example of RTS from your consulting practice?
Winell: I can give you many. One of the symptom clusters is around fear and anxiety. People indoctrinated into fundamentalist Christianity as small children sometimes have memories of being terrified by images of hell and apocalypse before their brains could begin to make sense of such ideas. Some survivors, who I prefer to call “reclaimers,” [8] have flashbacks, panic attacks, or nightmares in adulthood even when they intellectually no longer believe the theology. One client of mine, who during the day functioned well as a professional, struggled with intense fear many nights. She said,
“I was afraid I was going to hell. I was afraid I was doing something really wrong. I was completely out of control. I sometimes would wake up in the night and start screaming, thrashing my arms, trying to rid myself of what I was feeling. I’d walk around the house trying to think and calm myself down, in the middle of the night, trying to do some self-talk, but I felt like it was just something that – the fear and anxiety was taking over my life.” Or consider this comment, which refers to a film [9] used by evangelicals to warn about the horrors of the “end times” for nonbelievers.
“I was taken to see the film “A Thief In The Night”. WOW.  I am in shock to learn that many other people suffered the same traumas I lived with because of this film. A few days or weeks after the film viewing, I came into the house and mom wasn’t there. I stood there screaming in terror. When I stopped screaming, I began making my plan: Who my Christian neighbors were, who’s house to break into to get money and food. I was 12 years old and was preparing for Armageddon alone.”
In addition to anxiety, RTS can include depression, cognitive difficulties, and problems with social functioning. In fundamentalist Christianity, the individual is considered depraved and in need of salvation. A core message is “You are bad and wrong and deserve to die.” (The wages of sin is death [10].) This gets taught to millions of children through organizations like Child Evangelism Fellowship [11] and there is a group organized [12]  to oppose their incursion into public schools.  I’ve had clients who remember being distraught when given a vivid bloody image of Jesus paying the ultimate price for their sins. Decades later they sit telling me that they can’t manage to find any self-worth.
“After twenty-seven years of trying to live a perfect life, I failed. . . I was ashamed of myself all day long. My mind battling with itself with no relief. . . I always believed everything that I was taught but I thought that I was not approved by God. I thought that basically I, too, would die at Armageddon.
“I’ve spent literally years injuring myself, cutting and burning my arms, taking overdoses and starving myself, to punish myself so that God doesn’t have to punish me. It’s taken me years to feel deserving of anything good.”
Born-again Christianity and devout Catholicism [13] tell people they are weak and dependent, calling on phrases like “lean not unto your own understanding [14]” or “trust and obey [11].” People who internalize these messages can suffer from learned helplessness. I’ll give you an example from a client who had little decision-making ability after living his entire life devoted to following the “will of God.” The words here don’t convey the depth of his despair.
“I have an awful time making decisions in general. Like I can’t, you know, wake up in the morning, “What am I going to do today?” Like I don’t even know where to start. You know all the things I thought I might be doing are gone and I’m not sure I should even try to have a career; essentially I babysit my four-year-old all day.”
Authoritarian religious groups are subcultures where conformity is required in order to belong. Thus if you dare to leave the religion, you risk losing your entire support system as well.
“I lost all my friends. I lost my close ties to family. Now I’m losing my country. I’ve lost so much because of this malignant religion and I am angry and sad to my very core. . . I have tried hard to make new friends, but I have failed miserably. . . I am very lonely.”
Leaving a religion, after total immersion, can cause a complete upheaval of a person’s construction of reality, including the self, other people, life, and the future. People unfamiliar with this situation, including therapists, have trouble appreciating the sheer terror it can create.
“My form of religion was very strongly entrenched and anchored deeply in my heart. It is hard to describe how fully my religion informed, infused, and influenced my entire worldview. My first steps out of fundamentalism were profoundly frightening and I had frequent thoughts of suicide. Now I’m way past that but I still haven’t quite found “my place in the universe.”
Even for a person who was not so entrenched, leaving one’s religion can be a stressful and significant transition.
Many people seem to walk away from their religion easily, without really looking back. What is different about the clientele you work with?
Winell: Religious groups that are highly controlling, teach fear about the world, and keep members sheltered and ill-equipped to function in society are harder to leave easily. The difficulty seems to be greater if the person was born and raised in the religion rather than joining as an adult convert. This is because they have no frame of reference – no other “self” or way of “being in the world.” A common personality type is a person who is deeply emotional and thoughtful and who tends to throw themselves wholeheartedly into their endeavors. “True believers” who then lose their faith feel more anger and depression and grief than those who simply went to church on Sunday.
Aren’t these just people who would be depressed, anxious, or obsessive anyways?
Winell: Not at all. If my observation is correct, these are people who are intense and involved and caring. They hang on to the religion longer than those who simply “walk away” because they try to make it work even when they have doubts. Sometimes this is out of fear, but often it is out of devotion. These are people for whom ethics, integrity and compassion matter a great deal. I find that when they get better and rebuild their lives, they are wonderfully creative and energetic about new things.
In your mind, how is RTS different from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?
Winell: RTS is a specific set of symptoms and characteristics that are connected with harmful religious experience, not just any trauma. This is crucial to understanding the condition and any kind of self-help or treatment. (More details about this can be found on my Journey Free [15] website and discussed in my talk [16] at the Texas Freethought Convention.)
Another difference is the social context, which is extremely different from other traumas or forms of abuse. When someone is recovering from domestic abuse, for example, other people understand and support the need to leave and recover. They don’t question it as a matter of interpretation, and they don’t send the person back for more. But this is exactly what happens to many former believers who seek counseling. If a provider doesn’t understand the source of the symptoms, he or she may send a client for pastoral counseling, or to AA, or even to another church. One reclaimer expressed her frustration this way:
“Include physically-abusive parents who quote “Spare the rod and spoil the child” as literally as you can imagine and you have one fucked-up soul: an unloved, rejected, traumatized toddler in the body of an adult. I’m simply a broken spirit in an empty shell. But wait...That’s not enough!? There’s also the expectation by everyone in society that we victims should celebrate this with our perpetrators every Christmas and Easter!!”
Just like disorders such as autism or bulimia, giving RTS a real name has important advantages. People who are suffering find that having a label for their experience helps them feel less alone and guilty. Some have written to me to express their relief:
“There’s actually a name for it! I was brainwashed from birth and wasted 25 years of my life serving Him! I’ve since been out of my religion for several years now, but I cannot shake the haunting fear of hell and feel absolutely doomed. I’m now socially inept, unemployable, and the only way I can have sex is to pay for it.”
Labeling RTS encourages professionals to study it more carefully, develop treatments, and offer training. Hopefully, we can even work on prevention.
What do you see as the difference between religion that causes trauma and religion that doesn’t?
Winell: Religion causes trauma when it is highly controlling and prevents people from thinking for themselves and trusting their own feelings. Groups that demand obedience and conformity produce fear, not love and growth. With constant judgment of self and others, people become alienated from themselves, each other, and the world. Religion in its worst forms causes separation.
Conversely, groups that connect people and promote self-knowledge and personal growth can be said to be healthy. The book, Healthy Religion [17], describes these traits. Such groups put high value on respecting differences, and members feel empowered as individuals.  They provide social support, a place for events and rites of passage, exchange of ideas, inspiration, opportunities for service, and connection to social causes. They encourage spiritual practices that promote health like meditation or principles for living like the golden rule. More and more, non-theists are asking [18] how they can create similar spiritual communities without the supernaturalism. An atheist congregation [19] in London launched this year and has received over 200 inquiries from people wanting to replicate their model.
Some people say that terms like “recovery from religion” and “religious trauma syndrome” are just atheist attempts to pathologize religious belief.
Winell: Mental health professionals have enough to do without going out looking for new pathology. I never set out looking for a “niche topic,” and certainly not religious trauma syndrome. I originally wrote a paper for a conference of the American Psychological Association and thought that would be the end of it. Since then, I have tried to move on to other things several times, but this work has simply grown.
In my opinion, we are simply, as a culture, becoming aware of religious trauma. More and more people are leaving religion, as seen by polls [20] showing that the “religiously unaffiliated” have increased in the last five years from just over 15% to just under 20% of all U.S. adults. It’s no wonder the internet is exploding with websites for former believers from all religions, providing forums [21] for people to support each other. The huge population of people “leaving the fold” includes a subset at risk for RTS, and more people are talking about it and seeking help.  For example, there are thousands of former Mormons [22], and I was asked to speak about RTS at an Exmormon Foundation conference.  I facilitate an international support group online called Release and Reclaim [23]  which has monthly conference calls. An organization called Recovery from Religion, [24] helps people start self-help meet-up groups
Saying that someone is trying to pathologize authoritarian religion is like saying someone pathologized eating disorders by naming them. Before that, they were healthy? No, before that we weren’t noticing. People were suffering, thought they were alone, and blamed themselves.  Professionals had no awareness or training. This is the situation of RTS today. Authoritarian religion is already pathological, and leaving a high-control group can be traumatic. People are already suffering. They need to be recognized and helped. _______________________________
Statistics update:
Numbers of American ‘nones’ continues to rise
October 18, 2019
By David Crary – Associated Press
The portion of Americans with no religious affiliation is rising significantly, in tandem with a sharp drop in the percentage that identifies as Christians, according to new data from the Pew Research Center. …
Pew says all categories of the religiously unaffiliated population – often referred to as the “nones” grew in magnitude. Self-described atheists now account for 4% of U.S. adults, up from 2% in 2009; agnostics account for 5%, up from 3% a decade ago; and 17% of Americans now describe their religion as “nothing in particular,” up from 12% in 2009.
https://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Society/2019/1018/Numbers-of-American-nones-continues-to-rise
_______________________________
Marlene Winell interviewed by Valerie Tarico on recovering from religious trauma Uploaded on January 31, 2011
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIfABmbqSMA
24:12
On Moral Politics, a TV program with host Dr. Valerie Tarico, Marlene Winell describes the trauma that can result from harmful experiences with religious indoctrination. Dr. Winell explains that mental health issues are widespread and need to be understood just as we understand PTSD. There are steps to recovery, treatment modalities, and resources available as well. She now refers to this as RTS or Religious Trauma Syndrome. _______________________________
Links:
 
[3] https://www.biblestudyonjesuschrist.com/pog/ask1.htm 
[4] https://marlenewinell.net/leaving-fold-former 
[8] https://journeyfree.org/article/reclaimers/ 
[9] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Thief_in_the_Night_%28film%29 
[10] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+6%3A23&version=KJV 
[11] https://valerietarico.com/2011/02/04/our-public-schools-their-mission-field/ 
[12] http://www.intrinsicdignity.com/ 
[13] https://www.maryjohnson.co/an-unquenchable-thirst/ 
[14] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+3%3A5-6&version=KJV [15] https://journeyfree.org/category/uncategorized/ [16] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qrE4pMBlis 
[17] https://www.amazon.com/Healthy-Religion-Psychological-Guide-Mature/dp/1425924166 [18] https://www.humanistchaplaincy.org/ [19] https://www.christianpost.com/news/london-atheist-church-model-looking-to-expand-worldwide-91516 [20] https://www.pewforum.org/2012/10/09/nones-on-the-rise/ 
[21] https://new.exchristian.net/ 
[22] https://www.exmormon.org/ 
[23] https://journeyfree.org/group-forum/ [24] https://www.recoveringfromreligion.org/
_____________________________________
Get God’s Self-Appointed Messengers Out of Your Head
Valerie Tarico Which buzz phrases from your past are stuck in your brain? “God’s messengers” were all real complicated people with biases, blind spots, favorite foods and morning breath. They were not gods and they are not you. So how can you get them out of your head or at least reduce them to muffled background noise?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ElfyYA420F0
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kookieskiwi · 4 years
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Hi! Can I request ot7 mafia au! x reader with the situasion of panic attack "we're here baby take a breath for us". Kookieskiwi I hope you're doing well btw I like your new drabble and I'm in love with it and its make me want more Im sorry 😭. I love you 😘💜
(Akbdiandhe I screamed when I got this notification ❤️ I’m doing really good, thank you for your concern 🥺💕 i try really hard to write things my readers want to read so I’m extremely happy that you liked my recent Drabble 🥺✨ don’t apologize for wanting more! You have no idea how happy it makes me to write for you guys ❤️ and even more so when it’s because you liked one of my previous works so much! I love you so much more and remember ‘you nice keep going’ my lovely 💜😘🤩)
This is the last Drabble they are referring to btw
WARNING: MENTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND MURDER, if these topics are triggering for you I suggest you don’t read this!
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Today wasn’t a good day for you at all. The boys left before you had even woken up for a deal they had been planning for months now leaving you to spend the entire day alone. You understood they were business men of sorts and with that occupation came ungodly hours of work which often left you alone. But being alone wasn’t that much of a problem because you always had contact with the boys somehow wether it be a simple text message or a quick phone call.
But now, in the early hours of the next morning when you hadn’t heard from them all day; you weren’t okay at all. You kept your phone near you at all times; when you showered, went to the bathroom, cooked dinner for all of you only to put the rest in the fridge, but ultimately you did nothing but lay around the house hoping to hear a ‘ding’ from your phone which never came.
They had been gone for 24 hours without a single word. From midnight to three am you had been calling guards and those who worked under them in case they had any knowledge of their whereabouts but all came back negative. They had been gone for days before but never without checking in every few hours or so to let you know they were okay. Sometimes it was simply a heart emoji or a ‘love you’ which was enough to let you know they were okay.
“Are you sure you haven’t heard anything from them?” You asked one of their subordinates from the agency. “No ma’am, the last we heard from them was right before they left. We’ve been searching everywhere and hacking into security footage around town but they’re good at what they do, they won’t be found easily.” He responded telling you everything you already knew. They were the best of the best when it came to everything including secrecy. Which was great, until now.
“Thank you Soobin, please keep an ear and eye out in case you see or hear anything from them.” You told him sighing, “will do Noona, until then please don’t make any rash decisions. Stay home and if they don’t check in within the next few hours I’ll send someone to get you and bring you to the HQ.” He informed you of his plan which you agreed to easily, it’d be much better being alone with people around as odd as that may seem. You were alone without the loves of your life and without knowing if they were okay or not.
It was now 5 am and they hadn’t checked in with anyone and no one knew of their whereabouts. You tried holding in your tears as the gut wrenching feeling that something had gone wrong hit it was hard not to let a tear fall. Trekking up the stairs to your shared bedroom you didn’t want to see the empty bed so you walked slowly hoping that before you got to the top of the stairs they would come rushing through the door and they’d be safe in your arms once again.
You were tired and worried which was never a good mix for you. The fear of losing the ones you loved the most got to you on the last step of the staircase before you came tumbling down both emotionally and physically. You tried clutching onto the railing to keep you stabilized but it failed as your body crumpled onto the stairs curling yourself into a ball and you resting your head in your hands.
Your stomach felt as if it you were one a roller coaster at the tip top before it fell. The anxiety you had build up during the day was the roller coaster and the falling was you right now. All the way to rock bottom. Your sobs filled the room while you tried to comfort yourself by curling even further into your own body. “Please let them be okay, god please.” You prayed knowing it was the only thing you could do now besides wait. The simple thought of them not making it back home was enough to throw you into a downward spiral.
Ringing in your ears began to drown out the sound of your own cries and please that you were no longer controlling. Your head began to ache with a fuzz which clouded your thoughts and filled your head. Your throat was on fire from crying, you were shaking like a leaf in the wind, you couldn’t hear anything but the blood thrumming through your veins but none of that mattered. No, all that mattered to you was your boys who weren’t here and that was the worst part.
Clutching your pounding head you tried breathing but you couldn’t, you couldn’t do anything but lie there letting yourself fade into your own emotions. Your chest ached as if your heart had physically shattered from the agony of not knowing and knowing you were helpless in this situation.
“Please be okay, please come home to me. I promise to love you for the rest of our lives, I love you all so much God please let them come back home.” You pleaded with your eyes screwed shut. You felt like you were drowning in your own tears, the inability to catch your breath being the main factor in this feeling but your whole body felt under some sort of pressure.
That was until you felt a much heavier pressure on top of that, the numbness you had felt overcome your body slowly went away with the ringing in your ears which allowed you to come to an understanding of what exactly that pressure was.
A person.
Opening your eyes you tried to see but everything was blurry, your tears kept falling no matter how hard you tried to stop. “We’re here baby. Take a breath for us please.” It was Yoongi. Your Yoongi. And he said ‘We’re’ meaning they are all home. Choking on your sobs once again you reach out to him and anyone near you to hold them as close as possible.
“You’re- home.” You sobbed into his chest as him arms reached around you to pull you further into his embrace. You let everything else out in tears of relief. They were home. Alive. Safe. The more you cried the less intense your sobs got and the more you could breath even though it was still hard to regulate your body. “Please never do that again.” Your voice cracked as you squeezed Jimin’s hand in yours sighing but still hiccuped as you tried to calm down.
“We won’t baby. I promise because we are retiring from that job.” Namjoon told you coming close to your face to wipe the tears away, he held your face between his calloused hands which you leaned into, craving to feel him; all of them. “W-what?” You asked confused, you thought you heard correctly but you weren’t sure. After coming down from such an intense panic attack you didn’t know what was real and what was part of your imagination. “We are here, for there rest of out lives. Just you and us. No more late night jobs, no more trades that make us leave for days, none of it anymore. Just us, settling down and staring the family we’ve always wanted.” He explained further making you want to sob even more knowing all your nights of worrying were coming to an end.
You couldn’t help but let a few more tears slip as you smile at them, crying now from the sheer thought of having all of them home safe and sound. “I love you all so much, I was so scared.” You told them shutting your eyes closed once again to cry a little more. “I’m so sorry baby, we were ambushed and we lost all connection with you and the agency. We couldn’t risk them finding our home, finding you, so we hide and we couldn’t contact anyone in fear they had the entire city’s phone system tapped to listen in.” Hoseok told you helping you stand up on your shaky legs only for him to pick you up like a koala and to have you cling to him for dear life.
“Did you kill them? Because if you didn’t I will.” You mumbled looking at the six others who followed behind Hoseok as he walked with you in his arms to the bedroom. They all let out a simultaneous chuckle and you could feel the warmth re-enter your body at the sound. These were the men you loved and lived for. “We did baby, don’t worry.” Taehyung told you with his signature boxy smile as if you weren’t just talking about murder making you giggle.
Hoseok laid you on the bed softly and kept you in his embrace as the others changed and showered before handing you to Jin who kissed all over your face as he helped you shower and relax by massaging you with the bath oils and soap.
After everyone was cleaned and dressed you were tucked into bed between all of your lovers but sandwiched between Jungkook and Jimin. You were in the bed that would no longer be empty when you woke up for went to sleep because you’d have your lovers right beside you for the rest of your life. And you couldn’t be happier at the thought of that.
“What do you say about getting married?”
-
...I’m smelling an epilogue or part two if requested 😏 maybe some brief baby making on their honeymoon?
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k7l4d4 · 3 years
Text
Loud House JoJo Stands List
Hello all, recently a found a list of potential Stand Names for members of the Loud Siblings from Nickelodeon’s hit show, the Loud House! In response, I’ve composed a list of Stands for each of the siblings in response to the list, with some tweaks here and there. The name origins and list may not be mine, but the Stands are my original creations, please let me know if they interest you, and I’d be happy to let you use them!
Everybody Clap Your Hands!!
Lori Loud
Stand: [Telephone]
Stand Type: Distance Irrelevant Artificial Non-Humanoid/Phenomenon Hybrid
Physical Description: [Telephone] has two key forms of manifestation; it's primary manifestation is a pair of cellphone-themed headphones, with its second manifestation being a pure Phenomenon with no physical cue.
Power Description: [Telephone] is a perpetually active eavesdropping Stand, and a rather vicious one at that, as whenever Lori is conscious, [Telephone] is active. [Telephone] allows Lori to hear EVERYTHING within in its range, from physical sounds, to mystical events, to even thoughts, whether she likes it or not. Her hearing is so keen, she can even hear and react to an attack that by all accounts should be undetectable or unavoidable, almost lazily dancing out of the way. Using [Telephone]'s headphone form is really meant to act as a controlled state, allowing her to turn the sheer cacophony into muted background noise whilst music plays in her head, enabling her to selectively choose what sounds she's responding to at any given moment.
Taking off the Headphones causes her to hear the sounds pouring into her head at full blast, but also enables her to utilize her greatest ability; weaponizing her sounds. Currently, she can either transform an enemy into a living receiver for her sounds, forcing them to share the sheer volume of noise she experiences while also using them as a filter to reduce her headache, or release her sounds as a physical force against her foes.
Leni Loud
Stand: [Blondie Girl]
Stand Type: Close-Range Natural Humanoid/Phenomenon Hybrid
Physical Description: [Blondie Girl]'s true form is that of a sentient phenomenon that answers to Leni's will, but due to her accidental misinterpretation of what Stands are initially, [Blondie Girl] now manifests as a sea-foam green mannequin with Six arms, an emoji themed face, and long, cord-like whips extending from her head in imitation of hair.
Power Description: [Blondie Girl]'s power, fitting for a savvy fashionista like Leni, is that of Fabrication. She can literally convert anything around her into fabric, weave it into different shapes, forms, or states, and revert it back, with the material taking on the characteristics of the form she gave it.
Personality: As a fully sentient Stand, [Blondie Girl] has a will and personality independent of Leni; [Blondie Girl] in spite of her valley-girl speaking style, is highly analytical, intelligent, and focused, often serving as Leni's exhausted personal assistant, constantly working to keep Leni both on task and aware of what's going on, in addition to her primary goal of protecting and aiding Leni however she can.
Lucy Loud
Stand: [Creeping Death]
Stand Type: Artificial Non-Humanoid
Physical Description: [Creeping Death] takes the form of a highly morbid and gothic death of cards; each card is blank, and the deck has no limit to the cards it contains, but the cards will invariably shift to accommodate Lucy's needs, with a section of the deck always being composed of analogous cards to a deck of Tarot cards. The most prominent aspect of [Creeping Death]'s card designs is the backing of each card being a bloodshot eye held within the jaw of a fanged skull, presumably a vampire skull.
Power Description: [Creeping Death]'s powers can be summarized as being weaponized occultism; whenever Lucy encounters an enemy Stand, or just a Stand that is not a confirmed ally, she will instantly gaining a card giving her the Stand's name, statistics, and Type, as well as the ability to absorb and store a single instance of that Stand's powers into the card. The absorbed power is less than half the strength of the genuine article, but it grants [Creeping Death] an incredible versatility on its own. [Creeping Death]'s truly unique power is the ability to create supernatural phenomena based on the beliefs, experiences, and fears of her enemies and allies, represented by new cards containing pieces of those qualities inside, which she can then combine, materialize, and attack with however she chooses; the only real drawback is that she only gets a single copy of each card, and to get it back, the construct it has been used in either has to be dispelled or destroyed.
Personality: [Creeping Death] has limited personal will, but whenever it's powers are used to create constructs based on living or intelligent beings, those constructs will possess individual personalities and behaviors, united only in their linked consciousness and absolute loyalty to seeing Lucy live.
Luan Loud
Stand: [Origin Prankster]
Stand Type: Artificial Humanoid
Physical Description: [Origin Prankster] appears as a bright yellow puppet themed off of a court jester, save for it's bird head. [Origin Prankster]'s left arm is extremely large in comparison to the rest of it's body, with a large mirror set into the palm of it's glove-like hand. [Origin Prankster] is approximately two and a half feet tall when standing on the ground, with it's left arm being a full two feet all by itself.
Power Description: [Origin Prankster] possesses the ability to send the powers of other Stands into rebellion, turning the unique powers of a Stand against it, as well as the Stand's user. The cue showing this power has activated is the sight of the mirror suddenly showing the image of the affected Stands. For the power to work, Luan has to know what the Stand actually does, and if she doesn't, [Origin Prankster]'s mirror cannot engage, whether she likes it or not. How the rebelling powers manifest is dependent on how they initially manifest to start with; if she used her power on [The World] for example, it would instead freeze DIO and his Stand in time, rather than freeze everything else.
Personality: While [Origin Prankster] is incapable of speech, it is very much intelligent, albeit twisted. [Origin Prankster] is often referred to by the rest of the Loud Siblings as being the embodiment of Luan's obsession with getting a laugh, no matter who gets hurt as a direct result of it, finding anything that can be viewed as humor funny and bursting into raucous laughter in response, from the cheesiest pun, to the most drawn out and elaborate of jokes, to even the cruelest and most callous of pranks. The one thing [Origin Prankster] does not find humorous is anything that is at Luan's expense; seeing Luan hurt, mocked, or belittled will infuriate the Stand, and can even provoke it into using it's powers independent of Luan's wishes. [Origin Prankster]'s inability to contain its laughter is an effective way of revealing its presence, as it will burst out in laughter at any joke, no matter how bad, breaking any cover it has managed to gain. Despite its twisted humor, [Origin Prankster] is capable of great kindness, often using its nature as a Stand to perform elaborate tricks and illusions to delight and entertain children, and will often wipe away the tears of those experiencing sorrow or hopelessness.
Luna Loud
Stand: [Hard Rock Hallelujah]
Stand Type: Bound Artificial Non-Humanoid
Physical Description: [Hard Rock Hallelujah] manifests itself in whatever guitar Luna has on hand, and will always transform the guitar into its preferred state: a dark purple electric guitar with a skeleton design, and an eye-shaped crystal inserted into the neck.
Power Description: [Hard Rock Hallelujah]’s power is the ability to telekinetically control any non-living thing within audible range of Luna’s playing. What she can control is dependent on the nature of the song she is currently playing, how well she is playing, and for how long. Attaching [Hard Rock Hallelujah] to an amp converts that amp into an extension of the Stand, not only expanding the range of her control, but also allowing her to control esoteric forces and concepts in addition to objects, though direct control of living things is still a no-go.
Lana Loud
Stand: [Eating Everything]
Stand Type: Range Irrelevant Phenomenon
Physical Description: None.
Power Description: [Eating Everything] allows Lana to absorb and store the valuable traits of any genetic or biological material she ingests, which she can freely integrate into her body whenever she wishes. The only sign that Lana is using [Eating Everything] to acquire new samples is that her teeth transform into an exaggerated version of those of a carnivore’s in the eyes of Stand Users. By offering her blood to other beings, Lana can grant them any of the traits she herself has access to, such as granting ‘human traits’ to her family’s pets, turning them into Anthropomorphic Guardians for her and her siblings. The longer Lana is using the traits she has stored, the more severe and prominent the changes in her body from using them become, and her behavior grows progressively more animalistic and wild. However, Lana will revert back to normal when exactly 23 hours and 51 minutes have passed after integrating her traits.
Lola Loud
Stand: [Going Far Witch]
Stand Type: Phenomenon
Physical Description: None.
Power Description: [Going Far Witch] allows Lola to designate a target, and all those who see the target will be unable to look away from their position, even if looking at the target would require their body contorting or shifting in ways that are ordinarily impossible, or potentially harmful, if not fatal. The designated target grows in strength, speed, and physical durability for as long as the ability is active proportional to the number of people looking at them. When Lola makes someone else the target, if something happens to the target that is humorous, dangerous, or embarrassing, the effect is increased. When Lola makes herself the target, usually when she needs to fight, having those same things happen weakens the effect and can even dispel it. The effect can only end for the target if Lola releases them from her Stand, or Lola loses consciousness or falls asleep.
Lynn Loud
Stand(s): [Ms. Badguy]/[Champion]
Stand Type: Range Irrelevant Bound Artificial Non-Humanoid
Physical Description: [Ms. Badguy] and [Champion] share a form, that of a gold medal hanging around Lynn’s neck, but with one key difference; [Ms. Badguy] displays a mocking leer, while [Champion] displays a group shot of Lynn’s family.
Power Description: Lynn’s Stand has two forms, representing Lynn’s unstable mental image and self-identity, each with their own powers. [Ms. Badguy] represents Lynn’s insecurities, her lack of faith in her own abilities and over-reliance on luck, and her obsessive need to put on the mask of a feral jock who no-one will mess with; as a result, [Ms. Badguy]’s power manifests as weaponized misfortune, in which anyone who has crossed Lynn or defeated her in some meaningful way will experience increasingly bad luck and fate working against them, with Lynn growing stronger and faster in proportion to how long [Ms. Badguy]’s power has been active.
[Champion] represents Lynn’s good heart, her care for her friends and family, and her desire to use her skills to support them, and her unshakable determination in whatever goal she sets for herself. [Champion] is essentially a functional inverse of [Ms. Badguy] in that Lynn grows more powerful proportional to the difficulty of her current goal, obstacle, or opponent, with enemy Stand powers growing less and less effective against Lynn the longer [Champion] is engaged.
Both powers grow stronger in response to Lynn being cheered on or given emotional support in some way during her fights. Which Stand is active changes depending on her current motivation; if she is fighting out of her personal pride, ego, desires, and such, [Ms. Badguy] will activate, whereas if she is fighting on behalf of another and supporting someone she cares about, or for a noble cause she believes in, [Champion] will activate.
Lincoln Loud
Stand: [Fortune Sun]
Stand Type: Close Range Natural Humanoid
Physical Description: [Fortune Sun] appears as a white, orange, and gold humanoid with a muscular physique and a Rabbit-like head, the image of a sun emblazoned on its chest, and ten golden orbs rotating in a ring around it.
Power Description: [Fortune Sun] possesses great physical strength, enough to rip through reinforced steel without too much effort, but little fine control of its force. It is also incredibly quick, capable of covering its maximum range in under a second, and able to respond to attacks before Lincoln knows that they’ve happened. 
[Fortune Sun]’s greatest power, and its greatest threat to enemies, lies in its golden orbs. When activated, for ten minutes, Stand abilities cannot be used, even if the Stands themselves will remain in place; physical augmentations or alterations to individuals as a result of Stands will remain in place, but they cannot change in any capacity, i.e. someone who is stronger or faster as a result of a Stand will not gain in strength or speed, but they won’t lose it either. 
After each minute passes, a golden orb will turn black, and when all the orbs have turned black, all those who had their Stands both active and within twenty meters of Lincoln, including Lincoln himself, will lose consciousness and have their Stands automatically dispelled, and will remain unconsciousness for another ten minutes without fail. Once this power has been engaged, Stands cannot be dispelled, although they can be activated if they weren’t already. After using this power, Lincoln must wait ten days to recharge it.
Lisa Loud
Stand: [Weird Science]
Stand Type: Close Range Artificial Humanoid
Physical Description: [Weird Science] appears as a tall, robotic figure, with a gas-mask shaped face, covered in a long medical coat. Beakers, test tubes, and flasks are screwed directly into its body at several points scattered about.
Power Description: [Weird Science] allows Lisa to break down and change the elemental and molecular components of anything [Weird Science] touches, combine them into new substances and chemicals that she can use at her leisure, and transform them back from whatever state they end up in after being exposed to [Weird Science] whenever she pleases. [Weird Science] also allows Lisa to establish a “laboratory” to conduct her experiments; those that enter cannot leave without her express permission, and she must grant it willingly. Rendering Lisa unconscious or killing Lisa will not dispel the Laboratory.
Lily Loud
Stand: [Lick My Art]
Stand Type: Phenomenon
Physical Description: None.
Power Description: [Lick My Art] allows Lily to create hyper-realistic portraits of anyone or anything. Any alterations or adjustments Lily makes to her pictures will be reflected in real time on the subject. Alterations Lily makes to the picture itself are not harmful in any way, but they are certainly not cosmetic; if she gives a picture of someone extra arms, they will gain those extra arms and they will function exactly as arms should. However, damage done to Lily’s pictures are a different story; tearing a picture will cause the subject’s physical form to rip apart along the tears, burning the picture will reduce the target to ashes, soaking it in water and watching it fall apart will cause the subject to dissolve like acid, and more. If Lily erases the entire picture, all alterations will cease and be reversed.
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ddaehyeon · 4 years
Text
-- ♡; WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH ; SEO WOOBIN
anon: woobin fluff please 🥺
pairing: seo woobin + you
genre: fluff
word count: 1.1k
a/n: yaaay finally finished working on this request! i still have few more on my inbox. i'll make sure to get to work on them soon hehe. also, i'm gonna work on my prompt list after this for a drabble game. anw, anon, i hope you enjoy this one! ^^
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ☆
There was a comforting silence enclosed in the confines of the living room, only the faint breathing was the harmony heard. Even without words, a smile graced both lips.
Your head was resting on your boyfriend’s chest, his soft heartbeat came to your ears like a music—something you can listen to for the next few hours, days, weeks, a lifetime even. Fingers were interlocked as both of you settled on the sole couch in the room. Figures both covered by a blanket you brought. It was your favorite blue blanket.
The television in front of you displayed a poster of Howl’s Moving Castle with a play video button drew on its center. It had already been on the screen for almost half an hour with the movie ending and begging to be played again.
However, Woobin had already said no when he momentarily released you, only to get the remote control and put the appliance on rest. Few words were heard from him as he once again linked your hand with his. An arm slinging in your shoulder. Your head on his chest, his chin on the top of your head. There was a sense of comfort lying on his heart, it was pleasing. He liked it more than anything else. “You know what, I really love being with you. Like I love love you, Y/n.”
Found on his lips was a curve that made his countenance lit into a faint glow.
“Ah, Woobin please…” You pouted, moving your head so you can look at him. A whine left your lips before another sentence broke out of your lips, “Stop it.”
Yet, even with those, you never hated his words. It was just the way his words reach your heart seemed to give a foreign sensation: refreshing and new—extremely satisfying. Your heart would miss a beat only to go with rapid knocks right after.
Woobin chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, come and make me stop then,” he said, his index finger pointing his lips. The message was obvious, yet it seemed like you declined to offer him what he wanted.
You extended your hands, giving his lips a light tap instead of moving your own lips to lock with his. It stayed there until you sensed the curve of his lips changing from a sweet smile to a playful smirk.
Wrapping your hand with his own, he freed his lips from the cover you made. Slowly, he adjusted his sitting posture, closing the gap between the two of you in the process. It wasn’t enough for him though, so he leaned closer and closer until your lips were only separated by a few inches. “You know what I meant though.”
The room was well ventilated, yet you could feel a heat spreading on your cheeks. Despite that, you didn’t take a step backward. Accepting the challenge through tilting your head nearer. Even with a weak heart, you attempted to mask your growing nervousness through feigned bravery laced on your sentence. “And what if I make you?”
 “Then—” Woobin’s word was interjected when you planted a swift kiss on the corner of your lips. He fanned himself using a hand, now your former situation transferred to him. “Whoa there, miss.” A chortle before he repeated the same sentence. He can never get used to your unpredictable acts; it would always result in messy responses from him. His face was slightly flushed, such an adorable reaction from the person you adored the most.
His reactions gave way for your courage to continue building up, a stair that you were able to easily step onto. Now it was you who was challenging him. “Then?”
“God, Y/n.” Woobin was locked on the abashment zone which made soft chuckles slip past through your lips.
 “You asked for it though.”
“And I didn’t expect that you’ll actually do it.”
A triumphant grin decorated your lips, contented of the small victory. “Serves you right.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the other mumbled defeatedly as he rested his head on your shoulder.
Once again, both of you were cased in serenity caused by silence. Each other’s presence filled the gaps that provided sparks of enthusiasm. Woobin’s hand found your hand once again, this time his thumb was pleased through rubbing your palm affectionately.
“I have something to tell you,” Woobin said, breaking the silence.
“Hm?” You inclined your head to his direction, making your head rest on the top of his. Your eyes were fixated on your hands, waiting for him to continue.
“I love you so much and I’m willing to do anything just for you.” The way each syllable flowed out of his lips wasn’t the usual. Not playful, not teasing—it was soft-spoken, graced with sheer sincerity and endearment. It was like it was a string that was able to link two hearts. A connection that seemed foreign, it was a safe haven that hid behind each other’s existence.
 “Woobin,” you called. “You know I love you more than you can ever imagine.”
Your answer gave him that relief, his heart settled on a steady beat as the comfort coursed throughout his body. Though he didn’t let the sensation overwhelm him.
Someone that can put his heart at ease, someone who he can be so comfortable to be with, someone overflowing with love that made him love himself better, someone who his eyes were to look for each passing second, someone he had always longed for to be locked in his embrace—it was you, the partner he had been searching for. You were the only one he became so willing to pour all his love to. Words can never be enough to describe the enormous fondness he had for you and frankly, he was quite disappointed by his inability to put his love into word.
How come love couldn’t fit into one sentence?
Maybe because it is more than a word?
It is a feeling that continuously grows.
Even with this inadequacy, Woobin attempted to offer his love through words uttered in a gentle tone. “Y/n, you mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”
Woobin was aware that it wasn’t enough, so a tender kiss was planted on your forehead before he allowed your head to rest on his chest, arms finding its way back to your shoulder. A hand stroking your head, his fingers sliding on your soft locks. “Always remember that.”
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rvmmm21 · 4 years
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Omegaverse hcs 👀👀👀 which tank do you think each rv member fits
 the fact i did more research for this than for my exam. thank you reaadvelvet.
sfw stuff, although it’s definitely implied.
this is my first a/b/o so i might’ve missed a few marks. don’t exactly know.
. joohyun .
joohyun’s an alpha (like 99.9% of the time).
dominant, protective and that inescapable jealousy makes her a straight up alpha. 
scents; she’s scent-driven. anything that appeals to her incredibly sensitive sense of smell has her foot on the gas. and if she’s driving you’re in for one hell of a ride. it is of utmost importance that her omega smells their best at all times. it’s only fair, after all. she prides herself on her grooming.
her ability to keep her jealousy in check varies. no one but her omega is aware of her hand surreptitiously resting on their upper thigh while they’re at the dinner table, but it’s a whole different ball game when they’re out in public. 
joohyun’s possessive nature flares in the presence of any other living, breathing creature. even from a distance, joohyun makes sure she has one ear open at all times. if someone so much as looks at her omega in a way she thinks they shouldn’t, expect her to be storming over in an instant, pheromones ablaze, ‘politely’ cutting the conversation short and escorting them away.
punishments are rare, but not above joohyun, if she deems it necessary. and she views them as firm reminders more than punishments.
joohyun knows how to work a silence damn well. cross her and she’ll have you suffocating on nothing but her endearing little death glare.
behind closed doors, another aspect of joohyun’s personality comes to play, however. 
a far softer, gentler and (dare i say it) playful joohyun surfaces when it’s just her and her omega. as gentle as her favourite bottle of freshly-scented fabric conditioner.
this is what i mean by the 99.9%. 
she does tire, so sometimes joohyun allows herself a little leeway to lean back. plus, it’s just the two of them, so her mind isn’t clogged with apprehension. (quick tip: a big-softie joohyun is a joohyun worth exploiting).
still though, exploit within your means. don’t push your luck. tease her about it just that bit too much and you’ll find yourself flat on your back, pinned under a growly baby beast, more than just her scent overpowering you.
joohyun is protective, motherly; she doesn’t shy away from tasks that may be slightly too intimidating for the average person to handle. a lovely homemade meal, fending off the threat of other foul alphas ogling what’s hers, or asking the waiter for another dollop of ketchup for her embarrassed omega. that’s joohyun wrapped in a pretty bow. 
. seulgi .
seulgi’s a beta.
bubbly, charming with the friendliest of scents. soft lavender, if i were to pick.
she’d really excel at being a professional cuddler (yes, they’re a real thing), because there’s nothing more soothing than being engulfed in a heap of seulgi as she whispers in your ear, fizzling those senseless worries away with the tone of her voice.
there is no sexual intent, simply a friend to lift your spirits or to lend an ear. or a snuggle.
seulgi thanks her predictable gland secretion, granting her more control over her pheromones. which is what everyone else is presented with: a neutral, approachable personality.
her easygoing nature has and can draw anyone in. and i do mean anyone; she has an ever-expanding list of four-legged/winged/slithery friends to prove it.
terribly innocent and trusting; sometimes dangerously so. seulgi will offer to do someone a favour or work on something for them when she finds yerim or sooyoung stepping in before she can make that commitment with a firm ‘i’m afraid that’s not happening’. she’s confused, but allows herself to be ushered away, glancing back over her shoulder in a quick ‘sorry’.
she’s clumsy, ask any of her members, but she works it in well with her charm. popped balloons, tripping on air and the inability to discern a ‘push’ from a ‘pull’ door makes seulgi jump as high as whoever is around to witness them.
mating or catching doesn’t cross seulgi’s mind much, not for now, anyway. she’s far more content in the company of her members and the friends she makes along the way.
. seungwan .
seungwan the omega (this was actually so hard to decide).
demure, caring and domestic beyond belief.
kind to a fault; like seulgi, her other (more assertive) members will oftentimes step in and answer for her, if she’s in a potentially iffy situation where she could be taken advantage of. seungwan, a little hurt, will ask them about it later on, and they’ll sit her down and explain. slowly, she begins to understand why they did what they did and eventually thanks them. 
baking, baking, baking; the house constantly smells like aunty anne and the pillsbury doughboy are going at it in a bed of flour with a rolling pin, goddamn. 
seungwan’s a treat, but so are all the things crafted from her little bake station in the kitchen. the other girls sometimes can’t imagine how such delicious things can come from such bland looking ingredients. i mean flour? get real... oh, hand them another brownie, though. yep, thank you seungwan unnie! 
don’t get it twisted, hey. what seungwan lacks in brawn, she more than makes up for in brains and good old-fashioned academia. sure, she may not be the one handing seulgi the broom to hold against the bottom of the glass on the ceiling, but who had reminded yerim to pull all the chairs away beforehand? the brains behind the operation indeed. 
seungwan is crafty as her mind is intricate. 
she knows how to get what she wants; every power-bottom move there is to know. she may be an omega, seemingly unassertive by nature, but her personality when she wants something is anything but.
she’ll pout and tease till she has her alpha weak and tending to her every whim, her complacency masked under prettily batted eyelashes and the longest, most gratuitous ‘thank youuuu’. 
blessed is anyone who gets the chance to make seungwan scream their name. (let’s pretend for a minute that we don’t already know who that is). she knows how to lay back and take it alright, gracing them with a perfect demonstration of her powerhouse lungs in action. front row seats, might i add.
so powerful, that sometimes, she needs to be ‘reminded’ that she isn’t the only one on earth, and that other people need to be left to live, too. omega seungwan prefers those reminders to push her deep into the mattress, pin her there by her shoulders, ribs, throat. any and every part of her is willing to be quieted down and shown who really calls the shots between the two of them.
what? she can at least show her appreciation. after all, it’s the way the hierarchy works, and seungwan isn’t one to question nature. 
. sooyoung .
alpha sooyoung through and through.
can’t imagine her being anything but, if i’m honest. 
and yes, the height helps strides, but there’s more to sooyoung than lank alone. 
her sense of duty is like no other, and if she has to put others in uncomfortable positions to preserve it, then its a sacrifice well made. just ask yerim, who now feels obliged to apologise for her presence at the cafe every time she goes to get a latte because of that one time sooyoung had thought the barista was flirting with her when he asked her for her ‘digits’ before handing her her drink, not realising that that was how the store operated.
the poor omega barista very nearly filled his trousers and dropped to his knees at the sheer sight of sooyoung’s lips curled up in a possessive growl and alpha waves emitting like she’d had her mind set on murdering him.
“what? he could’ve just used your initials or your order like a normal person!” . “unnie, he doesn’t make enough to go against an entire establishment. and besides, there’s nothing wrong with that. you’re just mad because you thought he was asking for my phone number when my ‘digits’ were actually ‘#026′, idiot.” . “... okay fine. but did he really have to say ‘digits’ like that? seriously, curb your flirt... fucking nerd.”
yerim; the only one allowed to call sooyoung names and not find her own esophagus handed to her with a lovely thank you note attached.
if sooyoung can make alphas of much higher ranks make it a point to acknowledge her presence in a room, then anyone who finds themselves at the wrong end of her stick can kiss their hopes of a steady blood-pressure bye bye.
sooyoung knows her way around a good jest, as hard to believe as that may be. ask joohyun, where it has become almost knee-jerk reaction to tell sooyoung she ‘doesn’t have a daughter like her’ whenever the latter calls her ‘mother’.
a mistress in the streets, a bloody mistress in the sheets as well. and don’t you forget it.
. yerim .
yerim the omega (the term fits her rather loosely).
and golden maknae, with a slightly satanic aftertaste, of course.
she may be tiny, as fellow omega seungwan absolutely adores reminding her (catch the hypocrisy, gift wrap it and send it back where it came from), but she can be a real hard-arse when needs be. real crass and rarely thinks twice before giving you what for. 
it usually doesn’t get her in trouble, except for when it does. snarky and playful by nature, yerim sometimes forgets her place and ends up challenging other, random alphas. her unnies are quick to react, having to pull her away and diffuse the situation before someone ends up with an ear chewed off. she gets a good telling off on the way back and for hours later.
her unnies are far more tolerant when it comes to her bratty behaviour. sooyoung’s soft spot for the girl plays a huge role in that, of course, but even alpha joohyun has learnt to take it all in stride. they all know yerim doesn’t mean to come off the way she does most of the time, so they let it slide. they’re much less possessive when it comes to her too, always allowing her the last tteokbokki on the plate or the first sip of juice.
bratty omega alert: yerim is calm and quiet most of the time, but if she wants something, it’d better be delivered. be that food, attention, or a good *cough* seeing to *cough*, give her what she wants and you have yourself a pacified, passive little girl. 
don’t doubt yourself when you’re around yerim. she’ll hype you up the best way she knows: violently. as seungwan will concur, when she got an earful of ‘don’t live like a coward!’ over a game of musical chairs.
and she wont stop until she’s hammered self-love into you.
it is lovely, though, when yerim’s basking in that after-glow, all raspy and looking like something of an angel. her aura has a deep pulling force, and you’d be a fool to resist. not that anyone could resist a sleepy, satisfied yerim.
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tsaritsa · 4 years
Text
brimstone in my garden
for royai week 2020 (day 2). mother mother’s song little pistol was a lot of fun to play around with. technically, this is the first part (with the latter being completed with old wounds for tomorrow’s prompt, but this can be read as a stand-alone).
and now i want brimstone in my garden i want roses set on fire
When she was a younger girl, in more tender and innocent years, Riza remembers reading an anthology of fairy tales. One story always stood out to her – a witch, a hag, a crone (the details never mattered, never mattered) asked three sisters three times if they would draw water from a well for her to drink. The first two were selfish and snobby and spoiled and refused to help every request, but the third (and it was always the third sister – the number three seemed to follow Riza wherever she went in her life) took pity and drew the water on the third, begged request.  
In return for her good deed, whenever she spoke, pearls and diamonds and gold dust would flutter from her mouth. The other sisters got gifts like toads and snakes. In theory, it sounded like a fair exchange. What could be more beautiful, a more just gift for one act of kindness than choking on precious gems and metals?
Riza wonders what the crone would give her. Did the sum of her life determine her gifts? Toads and asps wouldn’t be fitting for her. Would blood flow from her mouth like a river whenever she dared to open her mouth? Would it spill out, overflowing from her eyes, nostrils, ears? Would she be judged against the sheer want to make the world a better place? Or perhaps every act would be judged on their own merits: a thousand years of choking on blood for the sum of lived life she took away before its time.
Her maudlin moods are becoming more a common occurrence these days, in spite of her focus being pulled in what feels like seventy-three different directions. To her left, the Colonel is deep in conversation on the phone; the newly-instated Führer, she surmises, judging by the tone and inflections he uses. Both of them are used to playing the roles George Grumman has created and expected for them in his own little design of what the world ought to be. Is it the lack of apparent change in their circumstances that is rubbing at her, despite the very world heaving and shuddering beneath their feet just eight days before?
Perhaps it’s the renegotiation of their lives that has her off-kilter. She finds herself more distracted these days, more than she should be. Their recovery, both physical (and otherwise) should be as simple as it is on paper. More blood transfusions, more bandages, more bags of morphine. All little forms of equivalent exchange.
Her gaze refocuses, and she sees the Colonel staring at her intently. The phone is back in its cradle next to his hospital bed. Truthfully, she couldn't answer to how long she's been lost in her head. Perhaps part of it is the morphine she's on – the bag is replaced like clockwork every morning. She should be upset at her inability to focus on her raison d'être. She doesn’t want to contemplate about whether it is a lack of focus, or a change in focus.
"You're thinking again," he says.
"I'm always thinking, sir."
The Colonel hums. He's been doing a lot of that lately. Humming his thoughts. Watching her. Noticing her.
It's unnerving because she's the one who is meant to have her eyes squarely trained on his back. This scrutiny is not... normal from him. She is not used to it, and certainly not from him. She can think of two-hundred and thirty-two issues off the top of her head that should be taking precedence. People to contact, legislation to draft, connections and favours to call upon, years in the making. But instead, it appears like she's become his new default. It's unusual, and an unwelcome deviation from the plan. Their plan.
These things come in threes; she tells herself. One, two, thr-
"Riza."
No blood falls from his mouth when he says her name. No flames unfurl, like a dragon awakening from a deep slumber. Just her name, falling as delicately as pearls, or diamonds, or gold dust.
"Sir," she responds carefully, after a moment. There's a warning nestled in her diction. Another kind of pistol trained on him right now, to the right of his sternum and just a few centimetres down.
He shakes his head, rising from his bed, walking the scant steps that separate them. She liked that space. It gave her control, gave her power in a world where she was afforded very little to begin with.
"Riza," he repeats. His expression is plainer, more obvious. Begging? Perhaps. But she'd never give him the satisfaction of acknowledging this anymore than he already has, because then she'll be choking on bloodied emotions she's been repressing for well over a decade. Did she dream of this? A different kind of fairy tale, where the morals got all muddled in the beginning.
His bandaged hands grasp hers, his thumbs traversing the rises and dips of her knuckles. She's well aware of her trembling. She's done so well to refuse him so far. Before he left for the academy. Before he left for Ishval.
One, two, three.
and now i found brimstone in my garden i found roses set on fire
(diamonds and toads, most famously attributed to charles perrault, is the fairy tale that riza is alluding to. i wrote this out in full before actually bothering to fact-check the points of the story lol, so there’s a bit of a contextual difference in the morals here – but hey, amestris isn’t exactly analogous to western folklore so i’d say i’m off the hook for now).
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bytheangell · 4 years
Text
Beneath the Surface
(Read on AO3) (inspired by this beautiful art by jesssssah​ <3) 
Jace is with Alec the night everything goes wrong.
They’re on patrol with a small group of soldiers when they spot a mermaid child who pulled herself up on some flat rocks by the beach. She’s alone, looking up at the stars, lost in her thoughts and not paying attention to her surroundings. Jace watches what happens next play out in slow-motion, unable to stop it, as Victor takes his sword and silently approaches her from behind. He watches Alec hesitate just a moment before taking off after him, catching up quickly since he isn’t making any attempt to stay quiet or hide his approach. In fact, Alec shouts, “stop!” which startles Victor into pausing in surprise to look backward, buying Alec enough time to intercept Victor which allows the mermaid girl, suddenly aware of her attacker, time to slip back into the ocean and out of sight.
Except she isn’t alone like they thought. A woman appears in the water by the rocks, a woman with striking blue skin and a shock of white hair. They see her a moment too late to defend themselves against her retaliation and Victor falls, hit with her magic before she too flees beneath the water.
They rush to Victor who is unconscious but still breathing.
“You’re going to regret that, Lightwood,” Raj snarls. It isn’t an empty threat and they all know it.
Raj and the others take off ahead carrying Victor’s body between them, leaving Jace waiting to trail behind with Alec.
“I’m sorry,” Alec says. He isn’t sorry for saving the girl, Jace knows, but rather sorry for the inevitable fallout of it back home.
Jace takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I know,” he reassures him, wondering if he would’ve stopped Alec if he saw it coming fast enough… if he would’ve let that mermaid girl die to spare his partner the hardships of whatever might happen next. “You did what you thought was right.”
Jace tries not to think about what Victor might do in retaliation. He tries not to be too upset with Alec for always putting others first at his own expense.
“If something happens to me-” Alec starts, but Jace cuts him off, unable to bear the thought.
“I won’t abandon you, don’t worry,” Jace promises.
“No,” Alec says quickly. “I know you support me. You don’t have to show it. Please, don’t show it. I don’t want them to come after you, too. I-” he hesitates.
“You don’t have to-” Jace starts, already knowing what Alec wants to say, what he feels. He’s always known, but saying it now, under these conditions, makes it feel heavy and final.
“I do. Just once. I love you, Jace.”
They’re words he’s always wanted to hear, but they feel tainted by the circumstances and the fear gripping his chest.
“I love you too,” Jace says.
The words fill the silence between them the rest of the walk back.
---
When Alec stands in defiance of the Council, speaking out in defense of the merfolk, Jace is both immeasurably proud and selfishly upset. It’s such a brave thing to do, and he admires Alec’s sense of what’s right and just as he opposes the laws that allow the merfolk to be hunted and killed without punishment under their classification as a second class species. It’s also a foolish thing to do because going against the Council is unheard of and Jace doesn’t want to see Alec punished for his insubordination.
Still, Alec stands tall and resolute, firm in his beliefs. Jace listens to him speak and knows that he’s going to change the world one day, and can’t wait to be by his side to support him every step of the way. He imagines the worst of Alec’s punishments to be unfavorable duties, perhaps a few physical lashings… he doesn’t expect to hear a decree that Alec is to be imprisoned for what is being deemed treason against the laws of their people.
Jace thought he knew pain, he thought he knew loss, but nothing compares to the way his entire chest constricts at the sight of Alec being lead to the holding chambers, heart full of dread at the idea of what they might do to him there.
Hands hold him back as Jace tries to fight his way through to the guards, to Alec, who turns to shake his head sadly at him as he’s ushered off. Alec’s words echo in his head. ‘I don’t want them to come after you, too.’ Jace stills and takes several steps back, watching helplessly as they usher Alec out of the room.
---
Rumors of Alec’s punishment reach Jace too late. To make an example of him for any who would stand against the Council, and especially any who would advocate for the Merfolk, an arrangement has been made for a curse to be placed upon Alec, turning him into one of the merfolk and leaving to spend the remainder of his days alone in the depths of the sea. It’s a fate many of their people would consider worse than death… but Alec isn’t like most of their people. Jace has to believe he can handle this. He’ll be fine. He has to be fine.
By the time he finds out where they’re going Alec is already on the ship and heading out to sea, and for the second time Jace is helpless to do anything but watch. When the ship returns some hours later Alec is no longer with them.
He doesn't know what to do with himself in Alec's absence. He tries to continue on, knowing that Alec would want him to stay, to live his life without regret or hesitation... but he can't. He can't bring himself to simply move on as if Alec never existed, as if he didn't just lose the most important part of his world.
It takes Jace a long time to find a witch who would be both willing and able to perform a spell as complicated as putting the same curse on him as the Council placed on Alec. It takes him even longer to save up enough to offer in payment. Picking up side-jobs as often as possible to make up the extra coin. he does whatever he can, whatever he has to, in order to make this work.
It's nearly six months after Alec's punishment was carried out when Jace stands with the witch on the edge of the shoreline.
"This cannot be reversed," she warns him, not for the first time. "It isn't too late to turn back. I would even return your payment in full."
Jace should take her obvious reluctance as a sign but he doesn't. He can't, not when he's so close to being able to reunite with Alec.
"You have what you asked for," Jace says resolutely. "Please, continue. I will not change my mind."
She hands Jace a potion, one that's nearly black in color, and only upon closer inspection turns out to be a deep, shimmering midnight blue. He takes the cork out and empties it into his mouth, making certain to swallow every last drop. It takes several minutes for the potion to take effect and when it does he feels a tingle begin around his hips, moving downward, his legs fusing together and covering in scales, shifting from human flesh to golden scales that gleam in the moonlight.
"Thank you," he says to her. "Truly."
She nods and leaves without another word, eager to be done with the whole business, taking her hefty payment with her.
Jace allows himself one last glance up the hill toward the village he once called home and the land and people he swore to serve and protect. Not anymore, though. His home left six months ago, and it's time for him to find it once again.
---
Jace is overwhelmed the moment he dives into the sea. The deeper he goes the darker it gets, and for some reason, he hadn't stopped to consider the sheer vastness of it all until this moment. He doesn't know where to begin, which way to turn... for all he knows Alec could've started to travel away the moment he left and is six months of swimming away by now.
For all he knows Alec may not even be alive.
Jace pushes the thought from his mind and urges the panic down as his body propels forward, slow and unsteady as he acclimates to the new way of moving.
He travels until he's too tired to continue, and then stops for a short rest. It feels strange to be so entirely unguarded - he hadn't thought to bring any weapons with him, the idea of wielding a blade underwater something he imagined wouldn't work very well. It takes a long time for his constant alertness to quiet enough to properly rest. He isn't sure how much sleep he gets before he wakes again, either - he dove down deep enough to block the worst of the morning sunlight from keeping him awake, but that means he hasn’t been paying mind to its passage above, either.
Not that time matters much anymore. He has nothing to wake up for, no schedule to keep, no duties to perform. His only drive is finding Alec, and he'll take as long as he must.
As luck would have it, it doesn't take long. Jace stumbles across a small group of merfolk entirely on accident, following the sounds of an unusual echo in the water to a small series of carved out rock formations that look like proper shelter. And that's when he sees her - the mermaid girl from the rocks.
She sees him and freezes, noting first the black ink markings on his arms and chest that tell her he's a foe, before then noticing the golden scales of his tail that mark him as one of the merfolk. Jace is so overcome with excitement over his first proper lead, someone who might have seen Alec or know which way he went, that he rushes toward her. Which, of course, scares her away and sends her darting off towards the caves.
Jace curses and follows behind, his size and inability to properly control his movements allowing her to get away. He's afraid he lost her entirely when an imposing figure armed with a spear emerges from the direction the girl vanished toward. Red magic crackles at the fingertips of his left hand, the one not holding the weapon, and his hair moves in fluid spikes above his head, holding form in a way that defies normal gravity. His eyes, yellow with slit pupils, narrow.
Jace freezes.
"What brings you here?" The merman demands. "Why do you attack my people?"
Jace notices the curious way his gaze lingers on Jace's tattooed markings.
"I don't - I didn't mean to scare her. The girl, right? I simply wanted to ask if she's seen someone. Someone else like me, with my markings," Jace says, his tone pleading. "I'm sorry," he adds, hoping it might help his case.
The Merman considers him for several very long moments. "Who is this person like you that you seek?"
"His name is Alec," Jace says quickly. "Dark hair, bright eyes... he was once human, but was turned into one of you," Jace says, then pauses. "One of us," he corrects quickly, because Jace is one of them now, for whatever that’s worth. "I need to find him."
"Why?"
Because I love him. Because without him my life is too empty to bear the thought of living.
"Because he means more to me than anyone else in the world," Jace settles on finally. "And I'm afraid it took me too long to find a way to reunite with him again. If you have any information at all I would be most grateful.”
The man considers him a moment longer before saying, “Wait here. Right here. Come any closer before I return and my guards won’t hesitate to kill you.”
Jace nods and waits. And waits. Until finally--
“Jace?!” Alec’s voice reaches him from below. Jace’s tears mingle with the water around him, an odd sensation he doesn’t have time to consider as Alec swims towards him in swift, practiced movements, wrapping his arms around Jace and sending them both spinning to the side with the force of the embrace. They hold each other tight, faces pressed against shoulders, laughter and quiet sobs of joy and relief and surprise filling the space around them.
The first merman follows close behind but hangs back just enough to give them space.
“I didn’t believe it when Magnus described you, I never thought-” Alec’s words cut off sharply. “How?” Alec asks instead of continuing that thought.
“I had the curse placed on me as well. I couldn’t stand to be apart from you, Alec,” Jace confesses, taking Alec’s hands in his own. “I don't want to live in a world without you in it.”
Jace senses the shift in Alec at those words, the way Alec tenses and looks back at the other merman, some unspoken communication passing between them in those glances.
“Bring him back,” the other man says finally.
“Magnus-” Alec starts, but the other man - Magnus - only smiles kindly.
“Please, Jace, come. I’m sure the two of you have much to discuss,” Magnus insists, already swimming back toward the caves.
Jace glances at Alec who nods, though Jace can see the nervousness behind the action as he takes Jace’s hand which is still clasped in his and leads him down to follow.
---
They do, in fact, have much to discuss. Starting with the fact that Alec and Magnus are engaged. Jace feels his heart shatter at the admission, one that Magnus has thankfully given them privacy to discuss.
“I never stopped loving you, Jace. I just never thought…” Alec sighs. “If I ever imagined I’d see you again you know I wouldn’t have-”
“I don’t blame you, Alec. I’m glad you’re happy,” Jace says, though he isn’t sure gladness is something he’ll ever properly feel again, not now. “You are, aren’t you? Happy?”
Alec seems well enough, and if the number of jewels adorning Magnus’ neck and fingers are any indication of his status, if nothing else Alec must be well off here with Magnus.
"I am," Alec admits, but the look on his face is troubled, guilty.
"If you're happy then quit looking so goddamn sad about it," Jace snaps. He doesn't mean to, he just doesn't know what else to say or do. He came here to find Alec. To be with Alec. And to find Alec in a serious relationship with someone else...
"I should go," Jace says suddenly. He tries not to think of the fact that he has nowhere to go, that he'll be entirely alone once he leaves, that he gave up everything to-
"Don't," Alec says. "Stay. Please?"
Jace hesitates.
"We'll figure something out. I promise. I don't want to lose you again, Jace. I can’t." Alec says, and Jace knows the feeling. As much as the idea of watching Alec with someone else hurts, the idea of losing him entirely for a second time hurts more, so Jace nods, and he stays.
---
Things between the three of them are odd at best, and strained at worst. It's obvious that none of them know where they fit now that Jace is in the picture. Part of Alec's heart belongs to both of them, and they all know it, which leaves Jace and Magnus teetering between a need to get along because they know it upsets Alec when they don't, and a need to compete to be the one most in Alec's favor at any given moment. But Alec and Magnus kiss, share lingering touches, they likely do much more than that in the bed they share while Jace stays in a spare room that, Jace suspects, is farther away than strictly necessary. Jace hasn't so much as held Alec's hand again since their reunion - he knows he's the outsider and it doesn't matter that he's known Alec the longest, so he begins to back off before withdrawing entirely.
Surprisingly, it's Magnus who approaches Jace about it first.
"Move in with us," Magnus offers.
"What?" Jace asks, sure he heard wrong.
"Move in with us. There's plenty of space, and I think we both know Alec would be happier if you were closer," Magnus points out.
"And what about you?" Jace asks.
"I'm not unhappy when you're around," Magnus says, a coy smile on his face. "I think I could even grow to like you if we made a proper go of it."
Jace hesitates. He thinks he's reading into Magnus' suggestion but he isn't certain, and this he needs to be certain about. "When you say like me, do you mean..."
"I mean romantically, yes. Pulling Alec in two different directions isn't going to work forever, and he's too kind to ever suggest anything else. But I think it'd serve us all to... cohabitate properly, don't you? I think we both love him enough to try, at least I know I do."
Jace knows what Magnus is doing but takes the bait anyway because it's true.
"I do, too," he agrees. "But what if Alec doesn't want to?"
"What if Alec doesn't want to what?" Says a quiet voice that catches them both by surprise as Alec approaches from around the corner.
"I regret giving you those stealth gliding lessons," Magnus mutters.
"Is everything alright?" Alec questions, glancing between the two of them anxiously.
"Everything is just fine, darling," Magnus reassures him. "How would you feel about Jace moving in?"
If Jace had any doubts before, the way Alec's entire face lights up at the prospect wipes them away immediately.
“You mean it?” Alec asks, unable to keep the hope from his tone. “You’re both sure?”
"Of course I do," Magnus says, then glances at Jace. “And we are.”
"We are," Jace agrees as if he and Magnus are best friends entirely on the same page now rather than two people who stopped viewing one another as lowkey enemies a mere five minutes ago. “As long as it’s what you want.”
"It sounds perfect," Alec beams, moving forward to tug Jace in closer to Magnus so he can wrap them both in a tight embrace at once.
--
It isn't perfect, not at first. It takes a few weeks for the three of them to be comfortable around each other, to feel out boundaries and limits. It's easier for Jace to be with Magnus while Alec is around, but the more they're left alone with one another the more they talk and the faster they begin to connect. They both care for Alec, an obvious starting point, but it turns out they have much more in common than just that. Magnus can keep up with Jace's sarcasm quip for quip and both of them have more than a few issues with their fathers to bond over. They find that after they stop looking at one another as potential competition they actually get along surprisingly well. If Jace could get past the mental hold-up that Magnus is Alec’s, he might find it easier to admit that he can see what Alec loves about him, because Jace finds himself falling for all the same things.
The first time Jace and Magnus kiss is one early morning when Jace passes by Magnus' open door to find him struggling with the clasp of a necklace.
"Here, let me,'' Jace offers, situating it into place to snap the clasp shut, settling it gently around Magnus' neck. His eyes linger there for just a moment before he impulsively leans forward to bring his lips down to place a kiss where Magnus' neck meets his shoulder, right where the necklace rests. It's tentative, a test almost, and when Magnus doesn't move he places another just above that, then another on the side of Magnus' jaw, before Magnus turns his head to catch Jace's lips against his own. It's nice. Jace is surprised by how soft Magnus' lips are, and how smooth his skin is as Magnus’ hand reaches up to cup the side of Jace's face.
Jace pulls away first, a look of mild shock sprawled across his face.
"Are you alright?" Magnus asks.
"Yeah," Jace admits, but his voice is quiet while his mind processes what just happened.
"And you aren't only doing this because you think I expect you to?" Mangus continues.
"No. I wanted to. I've wanted to for a while if I'm being honest. Is... is that alright?" Jace knows this is the agreement, that this is what they've been working towards all these weeks, but he still feels like he has to make sure.
"It's more than alright, Jace," Magnus says, and Jace can barely return the kiss Magnus pulls him into for how wide he's smiling.
---
After that things start to fall into place. The three of them work surprisingly well: Magnus and Jace remind Alec how much he's loved when he's down on himself; Magnus and Alec remind Jace that his place in their relationship is as an equal, not just someone they 'let in'; and Alec and Jace put all their effort and attention into knowing Magnus as well as they know each other from their years on land.
It's great, and most of the time it feels as close to perfect as Jace imagines anything in his life will ever feel. But that doesn't mean there aren't bad days. It's on one of those days he quietly slips out while no one is paying attention and goes for a swim.
He doesn't think anyone noticed him slipping out, nor does he expect them to notice him missing and find him later. This is far from the first time he’s done this. Whenever Jace feels overwhelmed, or angry in that way where talking won't help and he just needs time to cool off, he always goes to the same small stretch of plain situated behind a seamount, giving it a private, secluded feeling while still being open. Sometimes his soldier instincts make the caves and reefs feel too claustrophobic, but this place is perfect.
Jace is humming a bit of a song to himself with his eyes closed, the notes ending abruptly when he hears the sound of someone approaching.
"Want to talk about it?" Magnus asks. Jace wonders when Magnus realized taking a subtle approach to asking him questions rarely works.
"Talk about what?" Jace attempts to brush the concern off.
"I know you come here when you're upset. Alec normally swings by to check on you without letting you know," Magnus adds when he sees the surprise on Jace's face at this not being as much of a secret as he obviously thought it was. "He knows you come here to be alone but you know how he worries.” Jace does. In fact, he even feels a little better knowing Alec secretly checks in on him, and the thought brings him comfort.
Magnus continues. “But you've been here much longer than usual today. You don't have to talk, of course, but you can. If you want to."
Magnus lingers but doesn't press further. Jace knows he'll leave if he asks, and he also knows he'll stand there in companionable silence, too. Today, though, Magnus is right - what he feels is a bit worse than usual, and maybe ignoring it isn't going to work this time.
"I know it's stupid, but sometimes I miss things from-" Jace almost says home, but realizes he hasn't thought of that place as home in quite some time and the word feels wrong. "-before," Jace settles on instead. "Whenever I was upset or needed to think things through, I'd play the piano. Sometimes I'd sit there for hours getting lost in the music..." Jace's words trail off, his thoughts lost in the memory for a moment.
"Is that what you were humming? Something you used to play?" Magnus asks.
"Yeah," Jace admits. "It isn't quite the same."
"No, I imagine not," Magnus muses.
---
The next few weeks pass and Jace doesn't think of it again, until one afternoon he hears the sound of music. It's one note at first, then another, tentative sounds as if whoever is playing them isn't sure what they're doing. Jace follows the sound of the music until he comes across Magnus, blue magic in his palms tinkering with the inner workings of a black harpsichord.
"Magnus?" Jace asks, coming up beside him.
"Surprise!" Magnus says, closing the top of the instrument.
"What's this for?"
"It's for you, obviously," Magnus says. "You said you missed playing. I thought it might help, you know, when you need it. And it'd be nice to hear you play. Alexander tells me you're wonderful."
Jace shakes his head. "Alec exaggerates."
"I do not," Alec says, coming up to join them. "I thought I heard actual notes playing, so you got it to work?" Alec aims the question at Magnus.
"You knew?" Jace accuses, unable to believe they both kept this a secret from him, but more than that, that they both went out of their way to even get this for him.
"I may have advised on the idea," Alec admits. "Go ahead, give it a try!"
Jace does, reaching his arms out to press down on a few of the keys, one at a time to start and then in chords, and then in sweeping scales. Alec sits himself on the top of the casing while Magnus lays himself down on his stomach next to Alec, both watching and listening, fully enraptured by Jace's playing as he attempts the opening lines of an old, classical piece.
It's such a simple thing, having this piano here, with Alec and Magnus listening to him play, but it means the world to Jace. To have people who care enough about him that they'd go out of their way to arrange this just for him... he's never had that before. He did with Alec before, in a way, but it was always secret. It was never like this, it could never be like this, not before. Jace wonders now if he and Alec were ever truly 'cursed'. After all, anything that brought them here, to each other and to Magnus, had to be more blessing than curse.
For the first time since the night Alec left, everything strained within him seems to settle, falling into place all at once. For the first time in his entire life, Jace feels entirely at peace, not just with himself but with his life, what he's doing with it, and the people in it.
This is it. This is what home feels like, he realizes. And now that he has it he's never going to let it go.
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