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maliceincandyland · 1 year

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James (Pokémon) & His Inner Demons

James is a gangster who struggles with depression and has a paralyzing fear of commitment, but he’s a fighter.

James’s Past

TW: Abuse

James grew up wealthy, but left home when he was around 10. His private tutors were physically abusive whenever he got something wrong or showed emotion (AG147). His ex-fiancée, Jessibelle, was emotionally, physically, and sexually abusive. We see her try to r*** him onscreen and she’s done it in the past (Japanese version: “This is... the same stuff... you used last time.” English dub: “This is just like... This is just like... last time.”). His parents help her assault him because he’s only useful to them as someone who can produce heirs. They also didn’t let him have toys. He collected bottle caps in secret, but his mother threw them away whenever she found them (XY85).

In my opinion, James seemed to imply that he doesn’t want kids, with anyone, because of his parents’ abuse. That is, in SM46, Ash’s friend Lillie says that it’s unfair that her toxic mother expects her to bend over backwards for her. In the Japanese version, James says to Jessie, “Such is the fate between parents’ relationships with their children.” I take that to mean that he doesn’t like the idea of having kids, because only two episodes later, Professor Burnett drops the hint to Professor Kukui that she wants kids and he blushes. (As for Jessie, she’s never fantasized about having kids.)

James met Jessibelle at a ball abroad in his social circles. He got excited that someone noticed him for once and he thought she was pretty. In the DP series, so like half-way through the Pokémon series, he says that he was in “love” with her (Japanese and dub versions say “love”) but she broke his heart. He says this was the primary reason that he left home (DP153). Physical harm was one thing but manipulating his feelings hurt much more. When talking about this, his voice sounds like he’s going to cry, and he smiles when he recalls writing her a love letter. This makes me think that in DP, he thought that some part of him was still in love with her. Curiously, when James sees Jessibelle for the first time in years (Kanto 48), a jazzy noir-sounding song plays that’s called “Hiya, Hot Stuff!”

Of course, it isn’t love. Attraction, sure. But, during DP, he still had PTSD from her abuse, so any ‘feelings’ for her after they first met would be Stockholm Syndrome. I think the other reason that he thought he loved Jessibelle is because he doesn't (or didn't in DP) know what love is. Fortunately, he's quite sure that he is no longer in love with Jessibelle (Kanto 48, DP2, DP117, DP153). Even though he hates balls, because of Jessibelle, he manages to be Jessie’s date at a ball (a ball for regular people; not aristocrats) (XY105). He doesn’t enjoy it, but he doesn’t complain out loud, for Jessie’s sake. She has a great time at the ball.

After leaving home, James applied to Pokémon school and met Jessie, who was also applying (Kanto 9, Kanto 48). It would’ve been immediately obvious to him that she looks exactly like Jessibelle. We know that he knows that she looks like Jessibelle (DP153). He could have had genuine feelings for Jessie when he met her. But I think part of him would’ve wanted to have her replace his first love. The catch is that her looking like Jessibelle probably made/makes physical contact, uh, challenging.

James didn’t pass the school’s entrance exam. Jessie did, but she chose not to go (Japanese version of Kanto 9). So they joined a biker gang (Kanto 36, Kanto 48). At some point, they parted ways until they were adults. Jessie ended up joining Team Rocket. Then James joined and seemingly volunteered to be her partner. She was a femme fatale known as The God of Death, so she was always in need of a new partner, as no one wanted to work with her.

Although there are different ways that this flashback can be interpreted, it seems like Jessie and James recognized each other and that Jessie was upset with James (like if he left her or if they had a fight). I interpret it as him having left her because later on (in the Japanese version) he confesses that he tried to outrun his past and has been running away his whole life.

If James joined Team Rocket for Jessie, then that’s a rather grand gesture, because, in Pokémon, gangsters are highly stigmatized. They can leave Team Rocket any time they want to, but they would have trouble finding a job and a significant other. They could change their identity, but that would also be hard on a person. Never, ever telling their significant other and friends who they are and knowing that they wouldn't be accepted. The red "R" on their uniform is almost literally a Scarlet Letter. Three of Jessie and James's friends left Team Rocket, but they started their own businesses and made no attempt to fit in with ordinary society.

In any case, being in Team Rocket empowers James with a sense of confidence (DP139), and he seems to enjoy the military exercises (DP137).

Barbed Wire Fences

James’s traumas affect him throughout the series, but he becomes less and less affected over time.

On the positive side, James has strong boundaries and won't hesitate to cut people who cross them out of his life (Kanto 48, DP153, SM58). He does not allow others to manipulate him, play mind-games with him, or rope him into their drama.

On the other hand, when Jessie tries to get him to talk about how he's feeling, he typically ices her out (DP54, DP55, DP70, DP165, XY85, SM58, ATBAM 9, etc.). In DP117, Jessie saves him and his first instinct is to pretend that he doesn't care. She then tells him to stop lying, and he cuts it out.

When Jessie and James became partners in Team Rocket, he was standoffish. While his heart was in the right place, he was averse to accepting help. Jessie offered him her food ration because he didn't eat anything all day (she didn't either, as she gave the rest of the ration to Meowth), but he turned it down. Then she insisted, so he took it. She tried to keep him from falling in a river, but he intentionally let go of her hand. She tried to keep him from falling down a chute, but he let go of her hand. Anticipating that, she grabbed his wrist, and he got mad and insisted she let go. She refused, and he was moved.

However, he seems to have mostly moved past shutting out loved ones, as he is brutally honest about what he thinks, in SM58.

Heart of Darkness

James’s inner darkness also seems to affect his ability to be a Trainer.

A Pokémon is mostly an extension of its Trainer (ex. JN72). They pick up their Trainer’s mannerisms and interests because Trainer and Pokémon are bonded through their hearts. Sometimes the bond between Trainer and Pokémon is so strong that they can psychically sense where the other one is (XY28, XY30, XY68, ATBAM6). The Gym Leader Korrina calls this being “soulmates” (Japanese version of XY30).

When Pokémon battle, they connect their heart with that of their Trainer. They siphon some energy from the Trainer (a lot of energy if they do a Z-Move, G-Max, or Mega Evolution) and feel each other’s emotions. That’s what they mean when they say that a Trainer has a heart that’s true or a heart that’s pure. Trainers can also send energy to their Pokémon in other situations, like while riding the Pokémon (ex. XY53) or when the Pokémon needs energy to heal (ex. XY105).

Pokémon attacks are relatively weak if Trainer and Pokémon don't connect to each other's hearts, or if the Trainer's heart doesn't feel love. For instance, in AG177, Jessie and James Tag Battle Ash and Brock, using Pokémon on loan from Team Rocket Headquarters. It starts off well for Jessie and James. But battling seems to bring out the true feelings in their hearts because they start arguing about personal issues between them. The Pokémon, even though they don't belong to Jessie and James, start arguing with each other too, because their hearts are connected with Jessie and James for the time being.

In the SM series, characters learn Z-Moves, which are special moves that use the Trainer's auric energy to fuel the attack. The Kahuna (Gym Leader, basically) of Melemele Island, says that Z-Moves allow people to feel a Trainer's emotions, because it brings out a Trainer’s aura. Ash's friend, Kiawe, says that to use a Z-Move, a Pokémon and Trainer's heart have to become one, and then their combined feelings turn into energy that can be used in battle. But they can't be just any feelings; they have to be feelings of love for all living things. When using Z-Moves, they are to focus on their love of community, love for their fellow man, or love of Pokémon.

James's aura would not feel pleasant. It would be full of pain, fear, resentment, betrayal, and loneliness. It reminds of Howl’s Moving Castle when Howl’s depression is triggered. His hair turns black, green slime comes out of him and covers his skin, and dark spirits emerge from the shadows. Actually, the first analogy that came to mind was that feeling James's aura would be like blasting "Down With The Sickness" by Disturbed, but that's neither here nor there.

James makes a point of telling us that he’s black-hearted. In the BW series motto, he says he's "The pure heart of darkness" (Dub: "With thunderous emotion") who is "The hammer of justice in a black universe" (Dub: "Thrusting the hammer of justice down onto the black darkness of the universe."). In the SM series motto, he says he's "An exquisite talent and the perfect gentleman. A disciple of evil fighting back against this tragic world." (Dub: "The nobly heroic man of our times. The master of darkness fighting back against a tragic world.")

In mottos, the darker imagery is afforded to him. The clearest examples are in the BW series. We see James with black darkness behind him; and white light behind Jessie. We see James with a dark purple aura and a black background; and white light behind Jessie. We see James colored all-black and against a white background; and Jessie all-white against a black background.

In the DP series mottos, we see James stomping or hitting the ground and causing earthquakes or volcanic eruptions. We see Jessie soaring through the sky with whirlwinds, gentle wind, or gentle winds carrying rose petals (autumn leaves in AG188). We even see James with hellfire behind him and Jessie floating above him towards celestial white light coming from the heavens.

James's darkness isn't just metaphorical either. He's a mad scientist and a computer hacker who can get pretty lost in the madness. In XY124, he hadn't slept for three nights because he was too obsessed with building his mecha. If Jessie weren't around to balance out his darkness, I’m sure he would end up consumed in darkness and madness.

Though Z-Moves require special crystals (Firium-Z for Fire attacks, Normalium-Z for Normal Type attacks, etc.), the attacks are still depicted as directly correlating with the Trainer's personality. James has Darkinium-Z and can use a Dark Type Z-Move called Black Hole Eclipse. Unlike other Trainers, Jessie and Meowth can also add energy to the attack since the bonds between Jessie, James, and Meowth are inseparable. However, this is really James's Z-Move and he is also able to do it by himself.

In contrast, Jessie has Mimikium-Z and uses it for a Z-Move called Let's Snuggle Forever. It's more like 'Let's snuggle forever because I'll suffocate you to death,' but it's pretty cute compared to Black Hole Eclipse. It's a Fairy Type move with a cutesy pose. James and Meowth are able to power it up with her.

Acquiring a Z-Crystal seems to require a test of character. Before getting Darkinium-Z, Jessie and James tell some petty thieves that they deserve better than their toxic friend who threw them under the bus. Jessie and James have a shot at getting the crystal, but their Pokémon all get knocked out, so they rush to their Pokémon instead. Ultimately, they do get the crystal anyway.

When James Tag Battles with the Gym Leader Gardenia, they lose; and she says that the main problem was that Trainer and Pokémon weren't in sync so they weren't battling as one. James loved Cacnea dearly, so how could that be? Maybe it's that James's heart is covered in darkness and this type of connection isn't possible for him. Maybe only Dark Type moves work for his dark aura. Maybe he didn't open himself up to others enough at that point in the series (DP54). Indeed, in the next scene, Jessie tries to get him to talk about his feelings and tells him to stop lying to her about being "fine." He just doubles down on saying that he's fine.

To answer that, consider * how * James learns Black Hole Eclipse. In order to learn it, James has to do some Jungian shadow work (SM58). That is, he has to have an honest conversation with his Pokémon, Mareanie, about what he will and will not tolerate in a friend (he detests emotional manipulation, drama, jealousy, people who are controlling, etc.). His terms are unconditional. Him telling Mareanie what to expect puts them on the same page and allows them to connect their hearts, now that James's shadow self isn't blocking the way.

♪ I Wanna Do Bad Things With You ♫

Jessie and James used to camp out and rent cabins, so they traveled light and could pack up and go at any time. They were lost souls wandering the earth. But then they get an apartment together in Vermillion City and make it homey. We see them travel to lots of countries, yet always returning to their apartment when they’re back in Kanto.

They even start a podcast (JN106) and YouTube channel (JN115), WhamBam-Z (dub: DumDumDum-Z) as Charm Deluxe (dub: Cosmic Charm Deluxe), Princess (dub: Princess), and Blue Bruise (dub: Bluesilocks). According to the Narrator, they continued thereafter to be content creators in addition to being in Team Rocket (JN106).

James even sacrifices his bottle cap collection to make pins as podcast freebies and sacrifices his PokéBall collection to give as podcast grand prizes. Jessie and Meowth had never understood his love of collecting things. To them, things only have value if you can use them or hock them for cash (XY85, SM4). But they understand what a huge sacrifice giving up his collections is, and are moved. James is moved that they appreciate the sacrifice, and that they see his collections as having value, just as he has always seen them as having value (JN106).

Nevertheless, for someone who's so afraid of getting close to people, living together must be a difficult adjustment for James. It used to be one of his worst fears (AG147). At the end of the series, they have a fight and James is very standoffish. I think that it’s mainly brought on by the stress and fears from them settling down together, because that’s the big change in their life in the SWSH series. It’s taking things to the next level. I could see that triggering his depression and making him build up walls.

Jessie is concerned that his heart isn't in being a gangster anymore. James is deeply offended. The viewer, at first, might think that he’s being defensive because he knows she’s right. However, we find out that she’s completely wrong and just projecting her fear that he will lose interest in being a gangster. He’s actually upset because he’s completely devoted to their job and to her. He’s insulted that she could lose faith in him.

Until they find new Team Rocket partners, they still have to work together. Since they're Field Agents who aren't out in the field, they work at Headquarters for a while. Interestingly, on one of their breaks, James drinks a Granbull canned coffee (so, Red Bull Cold Brew Coffee), which is a drink that Jessie once bought him, to show him that she wasn’t upset that he backstabbed her (SM132).

Jessie, James, and Meowth individually go off to do the same villainous scheme. Perhaps this is the same type of heart bond that allows Ash and Pikachu to sense where each other has gone when they are apart (ATBAM6). The fact that they had the same plan moves Meowth to tears and makes Jessie and James smile. They realize that the three of them are inextricably linked, and what initially linked them was their love of villainy. While Meowth is included in this bond, Trainers can have heart bonds with their Pokémon; but, as far as energy bonds between humans go, Jessie and James are the only characters shown to have one. Moreover, Jessie and James have promised to be at each other's side even in the afterlife (DP117).

Jessie and James used to cycle through lots of successful normal careers. In the finale, besides podcasting and YouTubing, they cast away their previous careers and embrace what truly brings them passion. Not always success, but passion. The thing that brought them close together in the first place - doing deliciously bad things together.

You can check out my Jessie character study here

You can check out my Team Rocket music playlist here

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variousqueerthings · 2 years

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some other things about the last few episodes we’ve had

1. Charles is autistic. I already said that, but I just sit here like “you don’t understand yes he’s abrasive and unfortunately rich and often a dick, but some of his behaviours are changeable and some deserve to be accommodated” (in the same way Hawkeye’s “waves hands” Stuff is accommodated for... dare I say it... that thing where an autistic and an adhd’er come across one another in the wild and unfortunately have Literally Nothing In Common and so it’s like unstoppable force/immovable object kinda situation)

Anyway, the way he made a mistake. I liked that. I need to think about it more in terms of phrasing, and I’m sure more data will appear as we continue onwards, but I guess the TL;DR is that Charles probably will find his way towards balancing the things that he needs to function, with being able to see beyond his own nose and care for others’ needs beyond the functionality of a patient and his own ego

also him wanting Hawkeye’s attention, even if that attention was negative. Hawkeye genuinely being angry at him for fucking up with the patient. Understanding the limit, and trying to understand it. RIP I will be a Charles apologist (just like I’ll always be a Margaret-from-day-one apologist)

2. Hawkeye loving and losing (and crying). I have nothing deep to say. I thought it was a good episode. I thought Kyung Soon was a great character and I loved that part of what made this work was that she was controlling the narrative, even if Hawkeye was the POV character. You can write believable romance in 25min and make it tragic in a way that isn’t heavy-handed (I’m glad she didn’t die -- and in a way that may have been easier, because you can romanticize death in a way you cannot romanticize making the adult and correct decision that there are more important things). And I love when he cries. Alan Alda clearly loves these things too, because he wrote and directed the episode

bonus for this episode is Hawkeye talking about it... with Margaret! I’m not sure if he’s been this emotionally vulnerable with her before. And she, in turn, is vulnerable with him, because her new husband has probably been cheating on her. Telling ya these two are friend-soulmates (and they’ve been fighting it every step of the way!) (I am not a fan of “soulmates” as a concept, I merely mean they had that potential and rather than move towards it, they decided to hiss at each other for x amount of seasons, while occasionally giving in to the fact that maybe... they actually really like each other)

3. BJ is still partially an enigma to me. They’ve followed up on the idea of him as a prankster in the episode with the guy he studied with (my partner and I clearly brought something to that episode because we were not entertained by his friend at all, and felt quite on edge whenever he was onscreen), and in the way he was messing with Charles’ uniform. his interactions with Hawkeye have a lot of different -- probably more interesting -- textures than at the beginning when they were getting to know one another as well

I mean in the sense that sometimes Hawkeye annoys him, which we first saw in the episode where Hawkeye and he had a fake -- and then a real -- argument. I don’t think it’s intended as that deep (although who knows), or that it will lead to an actual temporary split between them, I just noticed it. He’s moved from the place he was in s4, but again, he doesn’t have so much POV, so I’m still placing him rather cautiously. I’m guessing he won’t become a Trapper 2.0, because otherwise he wouldn’t be so beloved in his own right, so I’m looking at the pieces of him I’ve got at the moment and squinting at how they’ll end up fitting together. I still think “observational” was something right I said, but maybe, currently, not as Solid as he was at the beginning (but that may be because Hawkeye also feels more on-edge... I do tend to read BJ in connection with his relationship with Hawkeye, so I think that’s what I’m not getting as much info on this season as previously...)

I think there’s something interesting there in terms of knowing a character’s place and/or journey, and I feel like BJ is moving with the changing tides more than any other character and I don’t quite see where he’ll end up (yet)

#charles winchester #hawkeye pierce #margaret houlihan #bj hunnicutt #MASH #im watching MASH #long post #and now: to bed

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madiiscn · 11 months

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[cisfemale and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [MADISON COLBERT]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [ELLA PURNELL]. You must be the [TWENTY FIVE] year old [STUDENT AT AURORA BAY COLLEGE]. Word is you’re [CHARISMATIC] but can also be a bit [PRETENTIOUS] and your favorite song is [I KNOW THE END BY PHOEBE BRIDGERS]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [AURORA BAY DRIVE]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

TW: Alcoholism, stalking, sex-tape

BASICS

Name: Madison Colbert Gender/Pronouns: Cisfemale/She&Her Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual Age: 25 Birthdate: July 14th Occupation: None/Student

Half-Sibling: @jake-hudson

ABOUT

Madison grew up in what she considered a happy family. As an only child, she lived in Palm Springs, CA, with her father, a well established cosmetic surgeon, and her mother that mostly stayed at home. She was raised in a spoiled manner, and never needed to ask for anything. However, because of this, she developed quite a narcissistic outlook and became an enemy of the word no. She always got what she wanted, and if she didn't, she would make your life hell.

She was ten when her mother began to drink a little more than usual. Once, she'd caught her watching MTV in the morning, finishing a bottle of wine that she could have sworn had only been opened two to three hours prior. This was accompanied by her mother's frantic pointing and behavior whenever a certain band came on the television, particularly towards the member called Jake Hudson.

From then on, whenever he was onscreen, her mother would tell Maddie stories about him as a child. This confused her, especially when her mother would begin to cry. It took her a few weeks before she drunkenly told her daughter that she was in fact not an only child, and that Jake was her half-brother. At first, she didn't know whether to believe her or if this was just some drunken fabrication.

There were a few times when Maddie tried to bring up Jake to her mother when she was sober, which only seemed to be when her father was around. However, one incident where she'd tried to probe her mother for information, her father snapped and for the first time in her life, she was punished. She'd been swiftly sent to her room and accused of inventing lies to grab attention. It became clear from that moment that her mother had in fact been telling the truth, and it seemed her father's wishes included Maddie not knowing about her mother's past life.

It angered her that she had a half-brother that had been kept from her all these years, and only made her more curious about him. But she'd been forbidden to speak his name by her father.

Unfortunately, she couldn't escape Jake Hudson. When she started high school he was the flashy new rockstar among her friends, and she longed to tell them that she was potentially related to him. A real rockstar.

As much as that realization was exciting, there was a slight part of her that didn't like the idea that he could know about Maddie's existence already and chose to do nothing about it. She couldn't be sure, she didn't know the ins and outs of what had happened between him and her mother, but surely she would have told him he had a baby sister. Right?

Apart from dealing with her friends crushing on her half-brother, Maddie got through school by being deemed 'popular' and was often said to either incite love or fear in her peers when she was present. If you had something she wanted and you were willing to be generous, she would treat you with a kindness that was only reserved for bargaining... and maybe her pet dog. If you weren't so willing, she would make you regret it. It could be anything from pop quiz answers to boyfriends and girlfriends, she'd find a way to procure them.

On the topic of 'love', Maddie's never held down a relationship longer than a few months. She becomes bored with people and throws them away like yesterday's trash. She'd much rather play the field than partake in this thing called commitment.

Despite her busy life outside of the homestead, she still could never shake Jake. The thought of him started to consume her, he was all she could think about. As the years had gone by, there was a mix of curiosity, anger, jealously, sometimes even hate on her bad days - he was the reason her father became strict, the reason her mother drank, the reason her friends would rather talk about his band than about her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he got to exist in her life but she didn't in his.

Her obsession reached new levels when she lied to her parents about staying at a friend's house, but instead went to one of his concerts a few cities over. She had planned on meeting him, introducing herself and asking if he knew anything about her. But that proved more difficult than she originally thought. She got caught in a swarm of his adoring fans and could only catch a glimpse of him leaving the stage after his set.

But her determination was rewarded as an online article stated that Jake currently resided in Aurora Bay. She couldn't believe how close he had been all this time.

At the present, she was currently at UCLA studying theater - her goal one day to become an actress. However, she had a opportunity to get close to the person who'd dominated pretty much her entire teenage life and impulsively put in a transfer request to Aurora Bay College, under the guise of a fresh start.

Her father was livid with her change of institution, but Maddie refused to acknowledge his temper and continued doing what she wanted. That included using her a large sum of her trust fund to rent a condo in Aurora Bay Drive. Conveniently, the same neighborhood of her dear half-brother.

CONNECTIONS

her half-brother, the rockstar that madison grew up so jealous of — @jake-hudson

her best friend and the sister she'd never had — @screamqueen-slater

friend with benefits — @jacksonxellis

one night stand with — @cristian-valdes

two night stand — @diegomartinezz

classmate, friend, friend with benefits, something more, something less, its safe to say its complicated. known to him as the princess of palm springs — @finn-brooks

hook up, someone she swears she can change — @ulyflynn

frenemy of — @dancingdanvers

love rival — @luckylewis

@aurorabayaesthetic

#aurorabay.intro #intro;

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nightshade-minho · 3 years

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Blue Book -(13)-

wc: 5k+

warnings: making out, some uncomfortable situations, angst, smut, oral, degradation, unprotected sex etc.

It was the day after the kiss, and you still hadn’t gotten over it. How could you? You could still feel his lips against yours, still remember the way he tasted. If the night hadn’t ended so abruptly, you wondered where it would have gone.

Sobering up Minho hadn’t been a difficult task. Thankfully he was mature enough. He listened to you, drank the water you gave him, and went back to sleep as soon as the two of you reached your home. You were glad he knew how to cooperate with you, thankfully your best friend knows when he’s gone too far.

He was still asleep, now. Usually he liked waking up earlier, but today was clearly an exception.

You sighed as you made yourself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen, your eyes staring into the milk and wishing you could drown in them, when Minho walked into the room. He let out a small sigh under his breath as he saw you at the table. Last night was a blur, and he could barely remember anything. His brain was swimming with a million different emotions and thoughts as he ran his eyes over you. Hm.

He yawned, stretching and plopping down on the seat opposite you.

“How are you feeling?” You asked groggily, not looking up.

“Better. A lot better, actually.” He sighed, leaning forward. “I’m so so sorry, Y/n. It was irresponsible of me, I feel so bad for making you leave the party and cutting your night short.”

“Well, when one of my best friends is drunk and having a breakdown in the bathroom, what else am I supposed to do?” You sighed and sat back, staring at his remorseful face. “What was that all about, anyway?”

Minho sighed. There was no way he could tell you, no way he could express the guilt he was feeling.

"I don't know. I was just...crying for no reason at all. Alcohol can do that to you, I guess. No biggie."

You sighed. "No biggie? I- you know what, whatever." You sat up. "If you don't want to tell me what's bothering you, that's fine. Just don't do it again."

You looked at Minho, his expression twisting your heart. He just looked so….sad. It made you regret your words.

"Hey, Min…" You shifted your chair closer to his. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

He sniffed at that, looking away and at his feet. "Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't seem that way." He mumbled, thinking back to last night. He'd been way too drunk to recall it properly, but he could still vaguely remember you and Chan, standing too close for it to be anything innocent. What had the two of you been doing before he’d interrupted?

"What?" Your eyes narrowed in confusion as you stared at him, his words puzzling you. “Min-"

He shook his head, patting your hair. "It's okay, Y/n. Forget I ever said anything, okay?" You opened your mouth to protest but he placed his finger over your lips before you could say anything. "Shh. Let's watch a movie or something, I just want to get my mind off everything that’s happening.”

You groaned, ready to protest again as soon as he pulled away from you. However he'd already grabbed the remote by then, switching on the TV and dragging you over to the couch. There was a random movie already playing onscreen, a scene of a ballroom filled with dancing couples catching your eye.

"Min, gimme a second, I haven’t even washed my bowl-“

"Shh."

He chuckled as he suddenly began twirling you around the room, ignoring your whiny protests as the classical music flooded the space.

"Come on Y/n. Just let go. We didn't get to finish our dance last night anyway." He whispered in your ear, suddenly picking you up by the waist and swirling you around.

You let out a squeal, holding onto him tighter. "M-min, put me down-"

He did so, continuing to dance. "Y/nnie~ You know you want to~" He smirked, giggling softly as he observed your expression change slightly.

His laugh had always been contagious. You let a small smile grace your face, making his grin grow wider. You rolled your eyes and started following his rhythm, giggling.

"Yes! Finally.” He excitedly continued your little waltz, looking down at you. You'd started to co-operate, and he felt himself smile at the sight. He felt so happy whenever he was spending time with you. So calm and at ease.

He loved watching you smile. And being the reason behind it only made him happier.

"You're perfect, Y/n." He mumbled softly under his breath, his eyes running over your face.

You didn't hear him properly, the music drowning out his voice.

He couldn't help but bite his lip as he looked at you. Fuck, how did he ever find it in himself to hurt you the way he had all those years ago?

He could stare at you forever if he could. His eyes carefully took in each eyelash, the curve of your cheeks, the slope of your lips- he wished he could freeze this moment forever, so that he would never forget how you looked happy and smiling.

If there was one thing Minho knew he regretted, it was his behaviour back then. He knew he'd been a terrible person. Perhaps he could compare himself to a black hole, one that sucked out all the positivity and happiness in a room.

There'd been a time when all he felt as soon as he saw your face was hatred. Clouded judgments that had messed with his decisions, making him act like a complete asshole. All he had in his mind back then was rage, directed at you and the man you were linked to. The man who had ruined his family’s life.

But now, when he looked at you, he only felt calmness and a sense of safety. It just felt right, you being in his arms. After all, now he knew you’d been a victim as well. You’d gone through it all too, the same abuse and abandonment that had happened to him. It was the same man who had brought the two of you down.

You smiled at him as you gave in completely, dancing with him and letting go of your inhibitions. The music overtook your heart as you went along, dancing with him as you stared into his eyes and wondered what he was thinking about.

He came to a halt as the music slowed, staring at your face adoringly. Your beautiful, smiling, happy face. His eyes carefully took in your features once more, a soft smile gracing his lips.

And somehow, he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. The sight of your big doe eyes looking up into his was affecting him too much.

This was a bad idea...

He knew that all too well. It was the opposite of what he'd decided to do last night, which was to let you go and set things right.

But...but why not?

Fuck it. Maybe it was a reckless decision, but who cares? He deserved happiness too, right?

Minho let the hand on your waist drift up to your cheek, and before you could even process what was happening…

His lips were pressed to yours.

For a minute, you didn't know how to react. It was a foreign feeling, and you hadn’t really expected something like this to happen.

Although it didn’t feel entirely unpleasant, you still felt surprise and confusion overtake you as your eyes widened. You could barely process it, your thoughts flitting all over the place frantically.

Minho frowned as he noticed your lack of reaction, your lips barely moving against his.

He pulled away quickly, stumbling over his words.

Shit, what had he done? "Fuck, I'm sorry, Y/n-"

You looked up, blinking as you stared at his worried face. His eyes were frantic as they flitted around, his brain clearly overrun with thoughts as his mouth opened to blurt out more apologies.

As you stared at his heaving chest, your eyes wandering up to his lips, a sudden thought flew into your brain.

You weren’t quite sure where it came from or whether you should even follow it... but as the seconds went by, the more the urge took over you. You’d never really felt like this before.

You didn’t know what it was in you that prompted you to do it...a need for revenge on Chan? Or did you actually have feelings for your best friend? You weren’t sure.

You pulled Minho back towards you quickly, kissing him back desperately. He responded almost immediately, whining against your lips at the force with which you were kissing him.

You didn't know what you were feeling, though.

It felt nice kissing him,definitely...it felt comfortable, and his lips were so sweet and soft.

However...there was an evident lack of passion. At least from your side.

It was just rough. That's all you could feel from the kiss- roughness. And that was your fault really...Minho's initial approach had been much softer. You’d been the one to turn the kiss into what it was now.

Minho gripped your hips, moving you over to the wall. He pinned you against it, molding his lips against yours in another angle.

It still didn't feel right. Chan's kisses were so different...his lips were so much softer and plumper, and the way he kissed you made you feel like you were on top of the world, even when it was rough.

He’d been your first kiss. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect one, really. You’d felt safe and secure in his arms, even as the thunderstorm raged in the background. His lips had made you forget it all, made you focus on nothing but how wonderful it felt to have him pressed against you.

You snapped back to the present and realized Minho had moved onto your neck, leaving kisses there as his hand migrated down your body to play with the waistband of your sweatpants.

Oh. Shit, you were making a mistake.

You pushed him away suddenly, regretting it as you accidentally did it with a little too much force. Minho looked at you in confusion, his chest heaving as he stared at you.

“Y/n?”

“No.” You scrunched your eyes shut, taking in a shaky breath. “We can’t do this.”

“But- but why?”

“It’s just wrong. It feels wrong.”

The flash of hurt in his eyes made you regret your choice of words. You scrambled to fix your mistake, standing up straight and stepping around him.

“I’m sorry...uh, it’s just- don’t you think it’s weird?” You bit your lip, staring at him as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Weird?”

“Us. I just never thought you felt that way about me. I’m your stepsister-“

He frowned, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he glared at you.

He frowned, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he glared at you. “What? No. I’ve never seen you in that way.” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the kind of relationship we have, and you know it too. That would have been the case if that bastard was still alive, but he isn’t. He isn’t a part of our lives at all, he doesn’t even fucking exist to me!” He shouted, blinking rapidly and breathing heavily as your words bore into his brain.

Was that really what you saw yourself as? His stepsister? The thought disgusted him. He’d never viewed you in such a light, and thinking of you seeing him like that was unsettling, to say the least.

Minho was suddenly feeling an urgent need to throw up.

“Any link created by him is not real, Y/n. We’re not fucking related.”

“But- look, I just-“ you stared at the ceiling, trying to find the right words to say. The man in front of you looked devastated, and that in turn made your heart ache. “We share a sister. And, I don’t know, you were always just my best friend. I never thought you felt anything for me.” You mumbled out, not even knowing what you were saying. You’d never actually seen Minho as your brother- but you’d never seen him in a romantic light either.

“I think I made it pretty fucking obvious.”

“No you didn’t! I just thought you were being a good friend. And how could I ever think you’d have feelings for me after the way you treated me when we were younger?”

He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing. “Y/n…I thought you’d forgiven me for that. You said you did.”

“W-well…I haven’t forgotten.” You sighed and pinched your forehead, taking another step back.

“I’m sorry, Minho. I really am.” Deep down, you knew it was just an excuse. It all was. You felt terrible at the moment...it wasn’t really his fault.

You knew the real reason already. Your heart belonged to somebody else, unfortunately.

He just shook his head, sinking down onto the couch as he stared at the ground. “It’s okay.” He said in the softest voice possible.

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking at him, your heart clenching as you observed his expression. Heartbroken and covered in silent devastation. It was new, seeing him like this. Minho rarely let things get under his skin, so seeing him on the verge of tears was disturbing.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said, sighing. “Just want you to be happy.” He added in a mumble- but you couldn’t hear him.

There was an awkward silence for a while, as you shifted from one foot to another. The room suddenly felt heavy and nauseating, your heart pounding in confusion.

“C-can I step out for a bit?” You asked, twisting your fingers. “I just need to clear my mind.”

He nodded slightly, leaning back against the sofa and staring at the TV silently, his eyes glazed over as the screen continued playing the gaudy movie.

Taking that as a yes, you went over to the front door, putting on your shoes with some difficulty as you tried to focus.

Looking back one more time, you left without a word.

***

It was raining lightly, and you groaned as you walked down the street without an umbrella. It wasn’t heavy enough to soak you, but it still felt a little unpleasant as your clothes started sticking to your body.

You hadn’t wanted to hurt Minho, but you evidently had. Surely you could have handled it some other way? Now you’d hurt your best friend, the one person you’d trusted besides Felix. And all for what?

Did Chan even like you? Was it all still just a bet to him? Had the kiss meant anything?

Who were you even reserving your heart for?

Your mind was filled with thoughts as you reached your home, unlocking the door and stepping in silently. Your clothes hadn’t gotten that wet, so you didn’t bother to change clothes as you headed straight to your room. The whole apartment was kinda dark, and you couldn’t really see anything.

Opening your door, you stumbled through the dark room and climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets higher up and closing your eyes. You were just so tired, and all these intrusive thoughts didn’t help one bit.

A nap might clear it all up, hopefully.

***

Isn’t it funny how one could manage to lose everything important to them, all in the span of a few minutes?

Minho sat on the sofa, feeling like he’d lost everything. Everything that ever meant anything to him, all because of his reckless, impulsive decisions and terrible judgment.

But he’d known this would have happened, sooner or later. There was no point in being angry at himself, or Chan, or you- or anyone, really. He couldn’t have held his feelings in forever, and he should have known the consequences that such a choice could bear.

Was this what karma felt like?

Minho leaned back in the couch and buried his face in his hands, relishing the darkness that graced his eyes.

It was all his fault. Everything was.

Always had been. He deserved this.

***

You didn’t know how long you’d slept for, all you knew was that you were well rested now. Turning around sleepily, you reached for your phone, switching it on.

The first thing you saw was a bunch of messages from Minho, your phone pinging with so many notifications that it nearly vibrated off the table.

I’m sorry.

I fucked up, Y/n

Please come back

Y/n?

I want to explain, I want to talk to you

I have some things to tell you.

I’m sorry please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me

You mean so much to me. I don’t want to lose you.

You blinked as you read the messages, tears pricking your eyes as you sat up. You checked the time, it was afternoon. You wanted to sleep just a little more, and then maybe have lunch. After that, you’d head back to Minho’s apartment to talk, and hear him out on whatever he wanted to say.

You sighed, sliding back down. Needing something to hug and make you feel better, you turned around and felt around for your pillow. Inching closer, you wrapped your arms and legs around the soft warmth next to you.

Wait. This...this definitely wasn’t a pillow.

Fuck.

You shot up in bed and screamed, scrambling away from the sleeping body next to you. Your infernal scream caused the person to shoot up too, them rubbing their eyes as you made out their silhouette getting up quickly to switch on the lamp.

“Y/n!?”

“CHAN?”

It was him, alright.

Chan.

Shirtless Chan.

Fuck, Chan was sleeping in your bedroom. In your bed. Shirtless. And he’d been right next to you all this time, being hugged by you.

Did I mention he was shirtless?

You swallowed, your thoughts flitting all over the place as your dry mouth tried to come up with something to say. “What the fuck are you doing in my room!?” You asked, sitting up and glaring at him. “Get out!!”

“Felix let me sleep here! Why would he make me sleep on the sofa when there’s an empty bed right here- wait, when the fuck did you sneak in anyway?” He swore, running his hands through his hair. “Jeez, You scared the shit out of me.”

“You did! You scared me!”

“You’re the one who sneaked in without any prior notice!”

You stood up from the bed and walked towards him, crossing your arms. “Well I never gave you permission to use my room! So get out before I make you.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck.”

“God, you’re so infuriating!” You shot out, exasperated as you buried your head in your hands, trying to control yourself from snapping his head right off.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Just shut up!”

He smirked, stepping closer to you. “Why don’t you make me?”

Of course. Of course he’d use that infamous line.

You weren’t going to fall for his bait though.

Or were you?

It’s just that Chan’s lips looked incredibly soft right now. Plump. So welcoming…

Not to mention, he was breathing very heavily and clearly worked up from your little tiff.

Fuck. You were going to regret this.

You’d overestimated yourself. In a second, you were all over him, leaning up to press your lips to his soft ones needily and passionately.

His reaction was lightning quick. Groaning into your lips, he quickly lifted you up, holding you against the wall much like Minho had. You felt a flash of guilt run across your mind, but it was quickly replaced as Chan bit your bottom lip harshly, groaning past your lips.

"I hate you." you mumbled, pulling away as he stared into your eyes, his own wild and alive.

"Feeling's mutual." He groaned, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking on the skin roughly.

"Wait, no marks-"

"Shut up and take it, you little slut." Fuck, Chan had been wanting to do this since the first moment you decided to be a brat to him. He’d been itching to teach you a lesson, show you some discipline.

He rubbed himself against you, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt the wetness soak through your panties.

He pulled you away from the wall, dragging you over to the bed and throwing you on it.

“You’re dripping, aren’t you? So much for hating me.” He let out another mocking chuckle as he leaned down, pressing a kiss over your clothed folds.

You whined, squirming slightly and causing him to hold you down. He looked up at you, warning flashing in his eyes. “Careful, my little whore. You better not piss me off any further.” He grabbed the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down, pulling them off your legs.

His attention slowly went back to your soaked pussy, licking his lips as he leaned in again.

“Is this all for me?”

You didn’t say anything- which was a mistake. For chan placed a solid slap on your pussy, causing you to cry out as you looked down at him tearily.

“Tell me.”

You hated to admit it...but it was the truth. “Yes.” You said softly, looking at him with an imploring gaze. “All yours.”

“That’s what I thought.” Growling, he placed his plump lips on top of your clit, sucking on it slowly but harshly. The overwhelming pleasure caused you to arch your back, your thighs threatening to close if Chan wasn’t holding them apart so harshly.

“Such a little whore we have here.”

He slowly explored your pussy with the tip of his tongue, relishing every whimper and whine that left your tongue. You tasted so fucking good, he felt like he could never get enough.

Pulling away, he let a sole finger trace your wetness, gently dipping past your entrance. “Do you always get this wet?”

You shook your head, your cheeks turning red as he smirked up at you. “Interesting.” He leaned back down, suddenly taking your clit between his lips and sucking harshly. The sensation caused you to throw your head back, the feeling too profound.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

His lips released your sensitive bud after a few seconds, still gently lapping at it with his tongue as he sat up, pulling down his sweatpants and pulling out his thick, veiny length. You looked down at it, your eyes widening.

So this really was happening.

He moved closer, pumping himself as he pressed his tip against your clit. He slowly slicked the head of his cock through your folds, coating it with your juices and letting out a soft groan. He’d spent so long imagining how you felt, this was like a dream come true.

Slowly, he pushed the head of his cock in. You whimpered softly, feeling how snug it felt within your walls. He was big, a lot more than you’d expected. Regardless of whether or not you’d be torn in half by the end of this, you still pulled him down towards you.

Your eyes wandered over his lips, before flitting back to his own. He gazed at you, sliding in and stretching you out just a little further as he leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

It was gentle this time, yet felt every bit as passionate. You’d never felt like this before. Chan kissed you softly yet urgently, as he pushed in all the way, bottoming out and making you let out a soft whimper.

You’d never felt so full, so satisfied. You felt one with him. It was perfect. In fact you felt like you could stay in this position forever, if the universe permits.

Chan pulled away, his lips throbbing. You looked perfect under him, eyes blown out and hair fanned out around you. Beautiful, just like how he’d pictured it all these years.

Originally, he’d planned to fuck your brains out. Ram into you so hard you would forget your own name, teach you some good behavior.

Right now though, he was consumed with the overwhelming need to make love to you, make you his. To treat you like his princess.

But then he remembered.

You weren’t his.

The anger which had disappeared was back, as Chan gritted his teeth. No, you were his and you always will be. He had to make sure you knew that, needed to make sure you would leave him before long.

It was hopeless though, and he knew that. You belonged to someone else, as much as he wished you didn’t.

Chan had to live in the moment.

And so he drove his cock deeper, causing you to whine out as he pulled out once more. The drag of his length against your walls was so pleasurable it almost drove you to tears. You found yourself wishing he would hold you close to him like this forever.

But you couldn’t fool yourself. This was probably going to be a one time thing. There was no way the universe was going to hand you your happy ending on a platter just like this...right?

You were shook out of your thoughts when Chan slammed back in, jolting you up the bed with the sheer force of his thrust. It brought tears to your eyes, tears borne of pure pleasure.

Soon, he was fucking you deep, his thrusts consistent. His lips slid over your neck, occasionally making their way back up to your mouth.

You clutched onto him tightly, whining at the extreme pleasure. Chan grunted at how tight you were, his core tightening with every thrust.

“You’re so wet, so tight. Fuck, babygirl…” he pulled out all of a sudden, causing your eyes to widen as you looked up at him, pouting. “What was that for?”

He leaned back against the headboard, patting his lap. “Come here and ride daddy’s cock.”

Your cheeks flushed at those words. Carefully, you sat up and crawled over to him, pausing in front of him.

You know you were supposed to have him inside of you once more, but you just couldn’t resist. You wanted to taste him…

And so you leaned down, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. Chan’s eyes widened in surprise at the move, his hooded eyes watching you. “Princess, I thought I told you to-“ he groaned, sucking in a breath between his teeth when you ran your hot tongue over his slit, your drool dripping all over his cock.

He stared at you, sighing to himself as you slowly took him in deeper. You could only be described as a perfect mess to him, sweat beaded on your forehead as your swollen lips wrapped around his tip, sucking slowly.

“F-fuck...are you teasing me, baby girl?” He hissed, taking a handful of your hair and pulling you off his cock. He swallowed as he noticed the string of his pre-cum that was still attached to your mouth. The sight was so sinful it could have made him cum right then and there.

“As much as I’m loving this princess, I really need to be inside of you right now.” He said firmly, pulling you onto his lap. He gripped your hips tightly as he moved you forward, letting his tip press up against your soaked folds.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment, Y/n? You and me?”

You didn’t say anything, your eyes widening slightly as you heard the words. You were just about to reply when he thrust into you abruptly, sheathing his entire cock in your snug pussy.

You let out a long drawn out whine. It had been a while since you’d had someone inside of you, and you were still getting used to the feeling of his girth.

“How does that feel?” He asked gently when he saw your expression, his scary dom persona shed for a few seconds as he stroked your back.

You looked at him, tightening your arms around him as you pouted. “You’re just so...b-big. I can barely breathe.” You mumbled, clenching experimentally around his rigid length and making him hiss. He clutched your hips immediately, smirking up at you.

“And your pussy is so tight and warm...all for me…” he mumbled, his finger gently flicking your clit.

You moaned, blinking and letting out a soft whine as he slowly moved a little. “Ready?” He asked, tilting your chin up to press a kiss to your nose. You inhaled deeply, before nodding. “Yes, daddy.”

He groaned at the name, running his eyes over your innocent face. He leaned up to kiss you as he thrust his hips, driving them into you slowly at first. Nipping at your bottom lip, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you up until the tip was barely grazing your pussy.

The way he was holding you up as if you weighed nothing was making your whole face turn red. Groaning softly, Chan winked at you before suddenly slamming you back down onto his cock, making you cry out in pure pleasure.

It felt so…incredible, for lack of a better word, as he kissed you deeply before guiding your hips, making you bounce on his cock.

You felt helpless as your moans grew louder, Chan fucking you on his cock relentlessly. He pounded into you from below, lifting you up again and slamming you down in time with his thrusts.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” You whined loudly and shook your head. “I- I don’t know.” You cried out softly, his cock ramming into you roughly. Barely able to continue your sentence, you moaned as he grabbed your ass cheeks tightly, spreading them apart.

“Shut up. You are, and that’s final.” He grunted as he suddenly got up, still shallowly fucking you. He stumbled over to the wall and pressed you against it, attacking your neck and covering it with bruises as he tore apart your insides.

“I’m- fuck!” You gasped when you felt him bite your nipple lightly, your hand coming up to his face. “I’m c-close, please-“

He chuckled, his hand slithering between your bodies to rub slow circles on your clit. “So you’re telling me I control your orgasm?”

“N-no I meant-“

“You meant what you said, baby.” He chuckled and kissed you. “It’s alright though, I’ll let you cum, babygirl. All you have to do is beg.”

“B-but…” you whimpered and pouted at him, but he merely shook his head.

“Go on, now.” He said strictly, slightly slowing down his thrusts.

You groaned in frustration as he reduced his speed. Your eyes wide and innocent as you looked up at him.

“Please, daddy, wanna cum so bad, need it...”

He pretended to think for a second, before nodding and smirking as he rammed into you so hard you’d probably never walk again. You never knew he had so much stamina, so much brute force.

Each thrust was like a burst of fire within you.

Soon enough, you felt your orgasm crash down on you, leaving your entire body shaking in the wake of it.

The overstimulation was blinding, and yet you suffered through it so you could feel Chan’s cum inside you, your abused core tingling as he pounded into you.

Finally after a few minutes he slammed into you one last time, filling you up with his seed. There was so much of it that it dripped out, past his length and your pussy. You’d never felt so full.

“That was...beautiful.” He groaned, resting his forehead against yours. The two of you breathed heavily, your chests heaving as you stayed in that position.

Staring into your eyes, Chan found something there which he hadn’t seen for years. He missed that look...he really did.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. You could barely reply, your words stuck in your throat. All you could do was stare at Chan in adoration, feeling helplessly in love as your heart pounded against your chest. Your mind was filled with persistent thoughts, but one seemed to be more prominent than the rest.

This wasn’t going to end well, was it?

***

Felix sighed when he saw the two of you cuddled on the couch, smiling to himself and shaking his head as he set his keys down. He’d known this would happen sooner or later.

At least now he wouldn’t have to deal with any more bickering. Yawning, he headed towards his room, right after switching the lights off so the two of you could lay in darkness.

An eventful day, for sure.

#bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #bang chan x reader #lee know smut #minho smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan imagines #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho angst #chan angst

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years

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(sees another fandom that I can ask you about and cheers) Orphan Black! Thoughts? I don't know Dr Who but Tatiana is one of my favorite actors period.

Anon you are so sweet! I'm always happy to chat about fandoms and characters and whatnot, and I will never not appreciate the majesty of Tatiana's acting. That is one of the greatest parts of the show hands down.

Orphan Black, to me, is a show that had incredible potential, but didn't really live up to the excitement it created. (Loooong post ahead.)

The thing is, Orphan Black builds a chilling mystery and background, the world it gradually creates as it goes for about the first two seasons, got be very invested and made me wonder a lot about where it was going to go and what the answers were. The setup is brilliant, right from the start with that iconic cold open of Beth's suicide. The unknown is what really helped this show get as thrilling as it was, because the actual answers behind the unknown were kind of hit and miss, and it seemed like far too often, the show just wasn't interested in telling it's story. Hijinks where the clones impersonate each other in slice of life events? That's fun at first and it really works well as they're still getting to know each other. But after a while, it gets tedious, and it seems like the show would rather fuck around and have dance parties (seriously, that scene was such a #BigLippedAlligatorMoment) than focus on the story and the threat that the sisters are facing. Virtually all of Allison's plotlines are like this, they feel like they belong in a different show, and for some reason the writers insisted on giving her one of these storylines like, every season. After Allison passively murders her own friend out of suspecting that she's spying on her, I just don't feel like an arc about her running for some PTA office position even matters. It doesn't feel right.

Speaking of that, here's another example: Donnie. Why did the end of the first season suggest that he was this secret mastermind working for Leekie? The whole idea just deflates in Season 2 and doesn't really go anywhere. He just goes back to being the bumbling sweetheart he was before. Why even have him be the spy? Maybe it should have been Ainsley. Do you want to know the exact moment that I think Orphan Black went wrong? Like, the specific scene? When Leekie was killed off. The character who had thus far been the Big Bad, gets taken out in the stupidest possible way, a literal accident on Donnie's part, and it's even played for laughs. After that point, the show really struggled to regain it's footing, though I don't think it completely went off the rails until about Season 4, and it was still generally hit or miss. Like, some stuff was really good. The introduction of the Castor clones, the development of Rachel's character (I'll get to her, trust me.) and the reveal of Kendall Malone. But it seemed like so much else was just forgotten or otherwise not resolved. Whatever happened to Cal? Sure, the show wanted to focus on the sisters...but Kira deserves to know her father if she wants to. That's just one example. It's a crying shame because this show is sometimes incredible. The metaphor that I always use for situations like this, is a card game. The show has all the right cards in its hand, they're just not being played.

The two strongest characters, at least to me, were Rachel and Helena. One of these characters was superbly written and went through a devastating arc. The other was Helena. We need to talk about her. In Season 1, she really cemented herself as a memorable presence with her trademark accent, her scars, her whole damn personality (again, hats off to Tatiana) and of course, that iconic screechy theme music that accompanied her. Which at first made us jump, but eventually made us cheer. I adored Helena, and I loved the development of her relationship with Sarah. Who went from shooting her in Season 1, to being deadset on rescuring her in Season 3, being furious with Siobhan for betraying her. (This is unrelated but Siobhan has the same " twist villain fakeout" at the end of Season 1 that Donnie does, and it's quite frustrating.) And yet, I swear, the writers just didn't know what to do with Helena half the time. They put her on a bus for long stretches, including one point where she just up and leaves Allison's house in Season 4, for no given reason. And the characters just kind of...don't care. The same thing happens when she gets arrested. No one cares to try and find Helena, even though she's unstable and often a danger to those around her. Even though she's by herself with no real ability to function in society. Even though she's pregnant. There is no excuse for this, and no Sarah, that "I'm sorry, I avoided you" scene in Season 5 is not going to cut it. It's such an afterthought.

I'm being rather critical, but I hope you can tell that this is from a point of passion. I genuinely enjoyed this show and getting to watch it. Just that sometimes it didn't feel like the show cared that I was watching. However, this was not true whenever Rachel was onscreen. Look, I'm a Merula Snyde stan, so you can probably already guess how I feel about Rachel. Despite her crimes, despite her constant slipping back the dark side, I felt so bad for Rachel at the end of it all. That scene with Kira really sums it up. "Who hurt you?" "All of them." And no scene is more intense than when she stabs out the eye cam. Like, I'm sorry, I pitied Rachel pretty much from Season 2 on. Her parents were horrible to her, and I'm supposed to think Ethan is the good guy here? He kills himself in front of his own daughter, telling her that she doesn't deserve him. And then Sarah shoots a pencil through her eye, causing brain damage and requiring a long recovery. I'm not saying that Sarah was wrong to do what she did, just that if I were in her shoes, I'd still feel a degree of guilt for Rachel's condition. In the end, I'm devastated that she was barred from Clone Club, when she made the right decision at the point it mattered. But there's just too much history there, and Sarah won't ever forgive her. (Though again, I do feel as though there's blame to share.) Rachel is my favorite character and I never expected her to be. But she's just so complex. Side note: "Enjoy your oophorectomy" is so damn quotable. I don't know why but I love that line.

So, Rachel's my favorite. Who's my least favorite? It might surprise you. It's Delphine. I'm sorry, but I just...I couldn't get on board with C*phine. Not after Season 3. I was waiting for the point that the show would push to finally redeem Delphine for her turncoat role, for all of the hell that she put Cosima through. By Season 5 though? I realized that as far as the writers were concerned? She already was redeemed. Even though she did nothing to earn it, except be presumed dead by Cosima. The way she treats Cosima in Season 3 is actually disgusting. Her reasoning for breaking up with Cosima is circular. She has to love "all the clones" in order to be with Cosima, and the way to do that is to take over Rachel's job, which means they can't date anymore? I'm not the only one who thought that didn't make sense, right? Oh and let's talk about how she stalks Cosima's date, breaks into her house, and threatens her life. Red. Flags. Cosima even says the line, "If you're not going to be with me, just let me go." I'm sorry, that should not be something she has to beg for. Delphine's behavior made me want her to stay far, far away from Cosima. Who is, incidentally, a sweetie and I absolutely adore her. I legit have trouble remembering that Tatiana's playing her because she just looks and acts so different. That said, even though I immensely disliked Delphine, I am so very glad that they made one of the clones gay. Just like I'm glad that they made one of them trans. (Though...Tony wasn't handled especially well.)

In general, I do think the earlier seasons were stronger. The Brightborn arc, while interesting, didn't really contribute much to the overarching narrative. We got the backstory on Beth's suicide and finally learned the truth about her, I suppose. Still, even though Beth is one of my favorite of the clones, and I never expected her to be either...I feel like the actual reason given for why she took her own life was rather illogical. She apparently did it because the investigation was putting the clones in danger of another Helsinki. Okay, but just because Evie Cho says you should off yourself, doesn't mean you have to. You could just, like...stop investigating. And if you die under mysterious circumstances without explaining anything to the sisters, they're not going to be put off from the investigation. They're going to look into this even more, because they don't know why they're not supposed to. The reveal that she and Art fell in love toward the end adds an extra gut punch, but it also doesn't make sense because wouldn't Art have referenced it during the period that he thought Sarah was Beth? On the other hand, Season 4 also introduced MK. And I have such a soft spot for her. I adore that sheep-masked sweetie. Everyone always asks "Which clone would you date" (because fandoms can think of nothing else I guess) and I never see anyone give any love to MK. Her death absolutely tore me apart. I am glad Siobhan avenged her even if she went down at the same time. Side note, her last word being the affectionate "Chickens..." Broke me.

Season 5 was a strange beast. In general, it seemed like we were finally getting some answers to the questions that were hanging over us. Exploring the deep mythos. But then they kind of turned it around and made it just be a Wizard of Oz style fraud twist. Westmoreland isn't really inhumanly old, he's a charlatan. I don't know why that was necessary in a science fictional show. I've seen the interviews and I get what they were going for, it just feels like it would have been cooler and far creepier if he was actually that old. The puppet master pulling the strings the whole time. We also finally get some answers for Kira's superhuman healing abilities (though we never learn how she's telepathically connected to the clones) and I'm loving it, but the trouble is, it's inconsistent. Ethan "Why is this guy so popular, he's an asshole" Duncan told Rachel specifically that Sarah being able to have children was a fluke, that the clones were "barren by design." I don't know, the whole concept of Revival and of the "magical island" was really foreboding and tied in with the earlier references to The Island of Doctor Moreau. Especially that song about "Revival's Children" just...the shudders, man. But just having it be a regular old scam is...a letdown. I know it may be more realistic, but I don't always need realism in my scifi. The finale is interesting, in that it's mostly an epilogue. I'm glad the clones (sans Rachel) got to live happily ever after, but there are two gut punches right at the end that are total nitpicks but they bother me. Helena naming her kids after Art and Donnie? And writing a memoir that she names "Orphan Black?" Those two tropes can go die in a hole. They can enjoy an oophorectomy, because I'm so sick of them.

The potential of Orphan Black was practically infinite. The results of Orphan Black fell frustratingly short.

#Orphan Black #Alison Hendrix #Rachel Duncan #Helena Orphan Black #Sarah Manning #Cosima Niehaus #Long Post #Beth Childs #Ramblings #Veera Suominen #Donnie Hendrix #Aldous Leekie #Ethan Duncan #Delphine Cormier #Siobhan Sadler #Clone Club #Arthur Bell #Tatiana Maslany

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sugawara--san · 4 years

Text

alright i started watching naruto earlier this week and just some things i'd like to say:

90% of the time i am yelling at the screen for people to stop disrespecting my boy naruto and like, pumping my fist cheering for him???

love when they play the music™ and i know some awesome asskicking is about to take place

i also really love it when they do the hand signs can't tell ya why it just makes me happy lmao

kakashi. that's it that's the thought

okay usually when i watch a show i will have like one favorite and i'll like some of the others but here there are just SO many that i fuckin love?

naruto just might have to be my fav but after him it is VERY close between a whole bunch of them

he is BABY and deserves so much love and respect and is also such a badass. his determination and the way he inspires?? *chef's kiss*

in the beginning i thought my fav was gonna be sasuke cuz yknow we love a hothead emo

but somewhere naruto pulled ahead and then sasuke was gone for a bajillion episodes and suddenly a whole shit ton of others were occupying all of my brainspace

like shikamaru? love him. what an absolute badass genius. unmatched strategy

hinata? BABY. love her. a total baddie. cry whenever she's onscreen. admire her determination just like naruto

kiba? i know almost nothing about him but god i love him. he is so pretty and also i love the pup. would love more kiba content

rock lee? cracks me tf up. is awesome and a sweetheart. died when he took off the leg weights lmao i feel so bad for him tho :(

shino? BEST BUGGY BOY. love the mysterious vibe. is a lowkey baddie. i laughed for five minutes at that one post of him crying watching a bug's life. applauded when naruto dubbed him as one of the powerhouses.

SIDE NOTE TEAM 8 DYNAMIC IS TOP TIER WHAT I SEE IS HINATA AND HER BROTHERS FOR LIFE OKAY

okay but is it just me or would the leaf village kiddos as a whole just have like excellent style

the byakugan is cool and the fight between hinata and neji was double cool

the fight between naruto and neji had me so hyped i couldn't fall asleep omg

i am a sucker for naruhina. them during the chunin exams was super touching and adorable. but i'm worried it's gonna take naruto forever to notice and realize. i know it will djnsnwjfhjs fuck

i want more team 7 bonding

also bonding in like all the relationships between the leaf village kiddos

sasuke calling bitches he fights clowns we love to see it

there are so many characters usually one will have been introduced and i go "wow i don't think i'm gonna like them what a dick/creep/freak/bitch" LMAO and then they get an episode w them and/or their backstory in it and i'm like AW:( and have to take back what i said

like i disliked pretty much everyone in the other groups at the start of chunin exams cuz i thought they were just gonna be villains and then? no??

the fight between gaara and naruto was cool but mostly it was sad to see those two sad bois

also i have to say i haven't seen them all yet ofc but so far the first opening just goes harder than the rest

idk if this makes sense but the whole first opening is the team 7 dynamic i want :((

FUCK i wanna say plz don't touch sasuke but they're gonna fuckin do it aren't they :( noo

they fuckin did it sasuke don'T

SHIKAMARU'S ASSEMBLED TEAM >>>>>

I AM LOVIN IT SM MY BOYS

okay i felt bad for neji when they gave his backstory but i was still salty for hinata lmao and i kinda thought he was still a bitch but on this team i'm actually starting to like him?

why do naruto and sasuke fight so much ugh and yall are just gonna pretend you're not besties who care for and admire each other?? okay then

how fucking SAD and CONFUSED naruto is @ sasuke AW NO

ROCK LEE IS BACK BABYYYYY

I AM LOSING MY MIND FIRST LEE J STOPS SOMEONE ABOUT TO ATTACK HIM SAYING HE MUST TAKE HIS MEDICINE AT A SPECIFIC TIME AND THE GUY JUST LETS HIM?? AND SECOND LEE BEING SO PURE AND SUCH A LIGHTWEIGHT I'M CRYING

rock lee drunk fighting is def never something i've thought of before but now i will, regularly

the sand siblings are back in businesssss like i said i hated like all the other groups but now i'm excited cuz i feel like the gaara redemption is gonna be good and wholesome

aw gaara

sasuke what the FUCK are you DOING I AM MAD ABOUT IT WHAT THE HELL

THE WAY NARUTO STILL GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOU AND IS ACTUALLY BEING A MATURE AND CARING FRIEND FOR FUCK'S SAKE SASUKE PLEASE GET A GRIP

HIS LITTLE EVIL GIGGLE IS NOT. IT.

please stop this :(

aw poor baby sasuke

"you have to kill your best friend" okay ay least sasuke is acknowledging that they're best friends jesus fuCK

catch me crying

NARUTO IS SUCH A BADASS AHHHH and they way he is kicking ass but like out of love i love to see it

i am so fuckin emotional right now their bond

sasuke put on the headband tho :(((

holy fuckin shiT

i honestly feel like i'm being attacked

shikamaru crying nooo

no one will read this but i think that concludes my week one thoughts, folks

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

Cries

CW: Dehumanization, nonhuman whumpee, blood, restraints, captivity, muzzling

Introduction | Siren Song

---

Transcribed October 4th, 20XX by Bahram Anvari, R.A. to Dr. Rachel Lachlan

First Draft – NOTE TO SELF – REMOVE ITALICS BEFORE FILING

Recording Transcription: Day 1 of Mer Residence

1.34.52 AM

October 3, 20XX

The first sound on the recording is a terrified keening.

It’s inhumanly high-pitched, closer to whistle than wail, but still unmistakably, desperately frightened.

The camera jostles, unfocused, as whatever hands hold it fumble to bring the creature into view. There’s a blurred thrashing of pale and dark, little more than shadow and light, smears of charcoal gray from the individuals dragging the thing along the floor as it fights them.

Their swearing is muffled, hissed whispers of frustration and irritation. The words aren’t easy to understand, although the tone of those speaking easily gives away the anger behind them. There’s a thunk as the blurry thing drops, half-wriggling and half-sliding across the damp floor. The camera picks up a scrambled mad movement to regain control, forward motion closer to the camera and then off to the side.

Over the whistling, keening crying, a deep male voice, edged with effort and strain, yells, “Is Miah-... shit, you little fucking rabid dolphin-... is Miah recording?”

“Yeah, camera’s on!” Another, much younger male voice yells back. “She’s having some trouble with focus, looks like, but it’s getting the sound at least. Do you need help, Mr. Kirsse?”

“Just get-... shit, shit shit he’s slick-... get the lift ready to put him in the tank!”

“Yes, sir.” There’s a pause. “Are you good, Doctor?”

A woman’s voice answers now. Strong and confident, only a little strained with effort. “I’m fine, thanks, Bahram. I think Anders is having the worst time of the two of us. Thanks to the muzzle this creature is harmless to me. Have the-... the lift ready, please.”

“Will do, Dr. Lachlan.”

A man moves past the camera, a hint of waterproof canvas overalls thrown over a sweater in the chilly room, brown skin and black hair. The camera follows and lingers on him briefly before returning to the entryway.

When the recording finally comes into focus, a muzzled male mer restrained with thick, abrasive sisal rope is suddenly visible, carried by Dr. Rachel Lachlan holding him under the armpits and Anders Kirsse trying and largely failing to keep a tight hold on his tail.

Muzzle is of Dr. Lachlan’s own design and while it protects humans from a mer’s sharp teeth, it will not prevent him from vocalizing.

NOTE: Include Dr. Lachlan’s design in filing, Fig. 1. Photograph living mer in muzzle to file as Fig. 2. Check before official filing to see if Dr. Lachlan’s patent application is pending approval by then.

Dr. Lachlan will want higher-quality vocalizations while wearing the muzzle recorded.

The rope that ties the mer’s hands behind his back is the cheap type often bought at home improvement stores and never intended for any kind of skin, deep red blood that is just shy of violet dripping to the floor beneath him along with remaining saltwater, a perfect trail that echoes the party’s slow, halting progress across the floor.

“This’d be easier if we-... had staff for this.” Anders Kirsse, an older man whose voice still has traces of a northern accent. “Or put it in a fucking wheelbarrow.”

“What we’re doing is highly illegal and more than a little outside the bounds of my profession’s insistence on humane capture procedures,” Dr. Lachlan replies. She is a tall woman with brown hair in a long ponytail, still wearing the hip-waders and boots she had on the boat (note to self- ship or boat? Miah will be pissed if I don’t get that right) and a heavy wool sweater currently damp from the mer’s struggles and spotted with its blood.

“Humane, huh?”

“Indeed. Generally speaking, due to their complex matrilineal social structures – a bit like orca, if you will-“

“Sure. Fuck, this thing is slippery!”

“-they don’t do well when separated in youth from the pod.”

Mer blood appears thicker than human, and Mr. Kirsse and Dr. Lachlan struggle not to slip in the trail of droplets whenever they have to stop and readjust their grips. When the creature falls briefly to the floor, thrashing like any fish desperate for the water, the floor is momentarily smeared with the deep burgundy beneath him. The two look down at him while he stares upward at them, panicked high whistles only a little muffled by the straps of the muzzle.

Anders Kirsse kicks the mer at what would be knee-height on a man, and it shrieks, trying to roll away from him. “I mean, is that going to mess with your work?”

“No. I do not require it for longer than six months.” Dr. Lachlan breathes hard. Her hands have the mer’s blood staining her palms. “Adolescent specimens will likely last at least a year.”

“Plenty of time for us both, then.”

“Precisely.”

The room comes into view as Miah Kirsse briefly stops focusing on the mer’s continued struggles and changes the angle. The walls are beige and taupe except for a vast circular tank with a small platform built high above it and some desks, couches, and a mini-fridge shoved out along the walls. Inside the tank there is a large manmade rock with a small cave inside that climbs just up above the water to give the mer a place to sit underneath sun lamps to warm itself, although not high enough to enable it to climb out of the tank. Various ferns and other plant life are dotted along the tank’s floor along with false coral in a wide variety of colors, giving it the appearance of ocean bottom for the purposes of giving the mer a comfortably familiar new home.

The camera lingers on briefly on the tank, but then quickly returns to Dr. Lachlan and Anders Kirsse. The creature’s vibrancy and life, not to mention his saturated blood, seem to take the full focus of the individual holding the camera.

(Note to self - him or it? I’ve gone back and forth a little. Continue transcription after speaking to Dr. L)

Answer: Mer is male, but Dr. L would prefer to utilize ‘it’ to ensure we are not anthropomorphizing the animal.

The mer is attempting to free its arms, lying on its stomach on the floor. Its white hair, stiff with dried salt from the sea, shakes from side to side with the motions of his its body. Some of the hair is slightly brownish-red stained with its own blood.

It tries frantically to hit out with its tail, scales shimmering under a flat fluorescent light that shines from overhead. This mer comes from a northern band and its tail is utilitarian for that purpose and contains only a small flutter at the end. Coloration is pale, the same near-white as its hair, fading into a deep black shimmer of scales that pales again when scale shifts to rubbery thick skin just at its navel.

At first, it finds no surface but the floor.

Then it succeeds and smacks heavily into Anders Kirsse, a broad-shouldered man in his forties. The tail hits Anders across the face, sending him stumbling to hands and knees and knocking his glasses to the ground where they skim along the cool concrete floor. Dr. Lachlan’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

A soft half-whispered rhythmic sound begins, clearly coming from the person holding the camera.

The man knocked to the floor stands back up, eyes narrowed either in an attempt to see or simply in fury, and snaps, “Stop laughing, Miah,” his hands moving quickly to echo his spoken words in American Sign Language, hereafter referred to as ASL in all future transcriptions.

Miah Kirsse, who is holding the camera, does not stop laughing.

Mr. Kirsse tells Miah, “I saw that sign, young lady,” and gets back to his feet, taking the mer’s tail in hand again, leaving his glasses on the floor with a visible crack across the lens. The mer seems startled that it made contact with Anders and has gone still, looking in what seems to be Kirsse’s direction. There is a sound like a series of small clicks before its gaze seems to shift over to Miah and therefore directly into the camera.

Miah quickly zooms, and the focus blurs before sharpening again to show the mer’s wide eyes, a deep green very much similar to the color of a species of seaweed that grows in the mer mating territories near the Nalowale Islands. (Note to self - what is the name of that seaweed?) Mer eyes have no visible sclera or pupil. Due to the black muzzle covering up the bottom half of its face, its expression is not wholly visible, but eyebrows the same near-white as its hair are furrowed in confusion or upset. Hair falls over its face.

It looks very human like this.

It clicks again. This transcriber believes the clicking may be a way to ask a question.

Bahram Anvari, Dr. Lachlan’s research assistant, is seen walking across through the video to a large sling held by thick ropes to a kind of forklift, also something Dr. Lachlan has personally engineered for use with the mer. It has been retrofitted from a similar type of machinery utilized for much larger cetaceans at Dr Lachlan’s prior place of employment, which closed down after a series of incidents that ended with widespread public disapproval.

After knocking Mr. Kirsse’s glasses off, the mer seems more subdued, and ceases fighting as it is moved across the room, but it does continue to click. Between the placement of its brow and the sounds, this transcriber believes it is trying to ask what happened to the glasses that it perhaps believes were simply part of Kirsse’s eyes.

The mer is placed into the canvas sling and Mr. Anvari steps over to the control panel, moving a lever. The lift kicks into gear with a low mechanical whirr, and the mer lets out a new kind of sound, a startled chirp and click combination, as it jerks into motion and is lifted up into the air above the height of the tank. Chirps quickly ramp up into fearful cries as Mr. Anvari moves the sling to swing out over the water in the tank.

The camera is set down on a nearby desk and Miah Kirsse moves onscreen. She is nineteen years old and bears a strong resemblance to her father. She signs, “Is the water right for him? What about his face and arms?”

“The animal will be fine,” Dr. Lachlan speaks out loud. Miah frowns until her father repeats Dr. Lachlan in ASL. She continues to frown, but more in annoyance now.

Miah replies, “I could tell what she said. Are you going to untie him first?”

“That would pose too great a risk.” Dr. Lachlan watches the mer renew its struggles, but the sides of the sling go up too high for it to do anything more than wear itself out even further. “When the animal is ready to eat, it will allow us to free its arms and remove the muzzle. Bahram, lower the mer into the tank.”

As Dr. Lachlan is not looking in Miah’s direction and does not use ASL, Anders Kirsse translates the answer into ASL for her and her words back to Dr. Lachlan. Her expression darkens further.

Anvari nods and presses a small button on the control panel. The lift reverses its earlier rise and the mer shrieks in fear as it perceives a sudden drop down towards the water. There is a small splash as it submerges, thrashes more, and finally frees itself from the sling. Bahram raises the sling back out of the water and back to the floor by the tank.

The assembled party is silent as they witness the mer’s first experience with its new home.

Nasal slits designed to breathe air close – the muzzle is placed just under them, leaving them visible – this is a personal decision on Dr. Lachlan’s part for ease of research. With the nasal slits closed, there is only the vaguest suggestion of their existence. Gills in the neck open to take oxygen in from the water around it.

There is a small pump system that will ensure new oxygenated saltwater is constantly cycled through the tank, and the mer’s ear fins which echo the colors of its tail, twitch as it searches for the source of the sound.

Its tail undulates in a consistent, slow motion to keep itself placed where it is in the water.

It pulls at the bindings holding its arms and turns back to the four humans who watch it. Green eyes appear to look over each person in turn. Then it calls, an undulating sound under the water, similar to whalesong but softer and higher-pitched, turning to show them its restrained arms, burgundy weeping into the water around them. Its fingers end in claws and are heavily webbed for ease of motion in water. There is some scaling around elbows and shoulders present in male mer that is not present in female mer.

The mer clicks, looks at them over its shoulder, clicks again.

Miah Kirsse: “He wants us to untie him.” She points at the mer. It appears to brighten a little at the sign that she has noticed it and uses its tailfin to move slowly back until its arms are close to the side of the tank.

Dr. Lachlan doesn’t respond at first, approaching the tank and looking at the mer. “I don’t think it can tell where the water ends and the walls begin. Interesting.”

“Don’t those things use echolocation or something?” Mr. Kirsse asks.

“They can, but I don’t think it’s tried yet. We know that adult animals utilize it more heavily than young. Fascinating.” Dr. Lachlan is quiet, for a moment. “I’ve never seen one so young introduced into human habitats before.”

“You mean captivity,” Miah signs, hands moving in harsh motions to lay plain her mood. Dr. Lachlan looks at Anders, who translates. “You mean cages.”

“Yes,” Dr. Lachlan replies. “I do. Let’s track how long it takes for the animal to cooperate in order to eat,” She says, brusquely. “Right now removing anything at all would lead to it clawing or biting us.”

Miah snorts. “He just wants to be untied-”

Dr. Lachlan holds up her hand and Miah’s fall still. “I understand that, Miah. I want it to be very well aware that its best interests lie in giving us total cooperation. Especially as we will be doing daily blood draws and it will no doubt be as reticent about needles at every other mer that we’ve tested. Now I need to make sure no one noticed us while we were on the water. Bahram, you’re on mer duty until I come back. Do not approach the platform, do not attempt to unbind it. Absolutely do not remove that muzzle. If you do any of those things – or allow anyone else to - before I give express approval, you will be dismissed from the project.”

Bahram nods. “No problem, Doctor. I understand.”

“I want to help,” Miah signs quickly. “I want to help B watch him.”

“Later,” Mr. Kirsse replies, both vocally and in ASL. Anvari is watching the mer, and as transcriber I should note that it is at this time that Anvari believes the mer watches the exchange between Miah and Anders Kirsse and appears to be focusing on their hands. It clicks, softly, barely audible. “You have to help me with the website first.”

Miah looks briefly into the camera. “I regret learning coding now.”

“This is not a TV show, don’t talk to the camera!”

“Try and stop me.”

“Miah, for the love of-”

“Let’s take this outside,” Dr. Lachlan says, and everyone but Anvari exits the facility holding room.

The mer spins back around and tilts its head. Pale white hair floats around it as it cries to get their attention, then looks at Anvari, who meets its gaze briefly before he appears to realize the camera is still recording.

Anvari moves to the camera to turn it off, but the mer seems to think he is also leaving and grows visibly agitated in the recording, throwing itself against the side of the tank. It thumps into the thick walls and makes a sound of confusion and hurt.

“I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight, am I?” Anvari says, carrying the camera over to a set of switches along one wall. He turns the lights off and ends the recording. There are cameras in the tank, which has low lights set at regular intervals along the bottom to ensure the mer is still visible at all times. There seconds between the overhead lights turning off and the tank lights turning on is just long enough to show that mer eyes glow faintly in the dark.

The last moment is very much the same as the first.

It is the sound of a frightened mer crying.

End transcription.

---

Bahram, you have a gift for storytelling, but that isn’t what we’re looking for here. I still have to figure out how to gain industry acknowledgement of this project and your constant humanizing of the mer is not helping. Being startled by a change in environment is not mortal terror. Redo this and remove all these plays on emotion. Also, remove the exchanges with Miah, she is not officially part of this project. - Dr. L

B, you forgot to add what I said to Dad when he told me to stop laughing. Make sure you put that part in the transcription next time. If this gets published I want the whole peer review whatever to know I called him a dick. Also that poor thing is totally frightened and also also Dr. Lachlan is a dick too. Leave my stuff in or I’ll never talk to you again. - Miah

Note to self - Stop leaving transcription drafts where Miah can find them.

Maybe I can get Miah to watch it for a few hours if I buy her coffee or something. I can't keep listening to it. Sometimes I swear it sounds like a kid. At least if Miah was here, she wouldn’t actually have to hear it. It’s hiding in the cave thing now, which I guess is good. Familiarizing itself with shelter.

I hate that he’s scared of us already

I just wish it would stop making that sound.

----

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @misspelledwitch @whumpfigure @whumptywhumpdump

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partywithponies · 4 years

Note

hi! i've only ever seen the bbc version of father brown and i've never read the books (i know, i'm so sorry), but i'm super curious about the different versions of father brown and you seem like an expert on each adaptation, so i was wondering if you'd be willing to give me a rundown of sorts on each version/series? i know it's a lot to ask and i may be opening the floodgates here, but there's not a ton of info online elsewhere and i'd love to learn more! thanks either way. ciao!

OH BOY YOU’VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE ANON

OKAY SO

As briefly as possible:

The books:

Proof people who complain about the BBC show being “too political” don’t actually know the books at all

Father Brown straight up calls capitalism “evil” and “heresy”

Chesterton says that millionaires dying isn’t a tragedy

Inspector Valentin betrayed us and broke my heart, ACAB I guess

Since every police officer he befriends lets him down in some way, Father Brown’s only real friend is Flambeau, who he goes absolutely everywhere with. They only go on holiday with each other. They’ve been all over the world with each other. I love they

Book Father Brown pretty much never does his goddamn job. We literally never in all the books see him giving mass or taking confession. The closest we get is when he gives an impromptu sermon after seemingly coming back from the dead, where he literally only says "You silly, silly people. God bless you all and give you more sense." then runs away to send a telegram. Useless priest. I love him.

Book Flambeau is. Incredible. Amazing. Iconic. None of the adaptations have been able to fully capture book Flambeau’s true energy, for he is a walking contradiction who contains multitudes. If all the onscreen Flambeaus fused into one being, THEN you’d have something vaguely resembling book Flambeau.

Book Flambeau is MASSIVE. He’s at least 6′4, he’s broad shouldered, has huge hands, and his super buff. He can just. Pick people up and throw them. He can knock people unconscious with one punch. He fills doorways when he stands in them. He terrifies most people just by drawing himself up to his full height. He also has a very short temper and a very short patience.

He’s very agile and athletic and can move silently, despite his size. He’s also a master of disguise, somehow. (Explain, Chesterton. Explain. Is everyone in this universe apart from Father Brown, Flambeau, and arguably Valentin massively stupid? Actually don’t answer that I’ve read these books)

Book Flambeau has a habit of flinging people full-bodily down flights of stairs when they anger him or threaten him or Father Brown. Book Flambeau also carries a walking cane with him literally everywhere that has a sword concealed in the handle, plus book Flambeau insists on taking pistols on holiday with him, even when he was just going for a peaceful fishing holiday in the Norfolk Broads. King.

(Which all makes it so iconic that Father Brown, described as tiny and meek and sensitive, saw this man when he was still a hardened criminal on top of all this and said “THIS ONE I LIKE THIS ONE. I JUST THINK HE’S NEAT” and went off on a jolly through London with him.)

Flambeau’s past is extremely mysterious. We no nothing about his family or his childhood or where he’s from or why he turned to crime. We know he used to be a soldier, and a part of him misses it. We know he used to fight duels semi-regularly, and liked them to be fought the very next morning after they were organised. We know he always used to make sure to visit the dentist on time, even when he was a hardened criminal. (King of good teeth.) We know he was in a gang at some point. We know he was a student at some point. We don’t know what he studied, but we know he knew Leonard Quinton in “wild student days in Paris” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). This is literally all we know about his past before he met Father Brown. The man is a riddle wrapped in an enigma. (That’s why Flambeau is so big. He’s full of secrets)

(Fun fact: in the book universe Flambeau is famous and popular in America, so you could say that in universe Flambeau is America’s Favourite Fighting Frenchman.)

Flambeau also loves cats and children, believes in fairies, likes pointing out rocks that look like dragons, and likes giggling and mucking about on the beach with Father Brown. A baby.

One time Father Brown called Flambeau “full of good and pure thoughts”, but I don’t think that’s quite true, Father. I think Father Brown just has endless faith in Flambeau.

Another thing I think is really neat is that it would’ve been so easy to have Father Brown be the genius and Flambeau his dumb muscle sidekick but that’s not the case at all! They’re both geniuses and they’re both each other’s sidekick, and in fact it’s Flambeau who’s the famous professional private detective, Father Brown is just an amateur. Father Brown is often defined by his connection to Flambeau rather than vice versa, both in the text (the text will frequently refer to them as something along the lines of “Flambeau and his friend the priest”, and on two separate occasions a long list of Flambeau’s possessions is ended with “and a priest”), and in universe (Father Brown himself is massively famous in America in universe largely because of “his long connection to Flambeau). I don’t know I just think it’s neat.

One time a man threatened Father Brown with a gun and Flambeau just beat him unconscious and then Father Brown and Flambeau just drove away and left him unconscious on the path. It was awesome.

(I’m sorry I rambled about Flambeau for so many words I just. Really really like Flambeau you guys. Father Brown and Flambeau are like two separate crime drama character tropes, the hard boiled cynical P.I. and the cosy eccentric amateur detective, but together as a double act, and I just think that’s really cool.)

Father Brown himself is if anything even more mysterious. He’s just “Father J. Brown, formerly of Cobhole in Essex, currently London”, and he’s “Flambeau’s friend”, and that’s all. That’s all he needs to be.

I also really really love Father Brown himself. I love that he’s allowed to be cheerful and optimistic and childish without any of this making him less clever, and in fact he’s shown time and time again to be cleverer than grumpy cynics who are scornful of childish things. Like, the whole giggling childlike thing isn’t even some kind of act, he’s a genius who understands true human nature, and he also really really likes puppet shows and building sandcastles who telling fairy stories, he really does get a “childish pleasure” from seeing Flambeau swing his sword-stick, and he really does have “strong personal interest in tomfoolery”. I love him.

I must share my favourite book quote about Father Brown himself: “But neither of them is very like the real Father Brown, who is not broken at all; but goes stumping with his stout umbrella through life, liking most of the people in it; accepting the world as his companion, but never as his judge.” uwu uwu uwu I’m cry.

Chesterton just subverts all the expectations character wise, the cheerful bumbling priest is a genius, the violent criminal is a true hero, the noble police officer is a corrupt self-serving murderer. It’s great. We stan. 10000000/10

(I’m not very good at being brief, am I?)

Father Brown, Detective (1934):

The first movie! It’s completely ridiculous. I love it a lot.

It was released just at the start of Hays Code, which, among other things, stated that crime and immorality should not be glorified or glamourised, and all crime and immorality must be seen to be punished by the end of the film. In practice in the case of this film, this means two things:

Paul Lukas!Flambeau is the only Flambeau to actually go to prison (and stay there).

He’s by far the Flambeau who deserves it the least. Lukas!Flambeau never hurt a soul. He just wanted to be loved. #FreeMyBoyHercule

Okay but in all seriousness. There’s a reason I call Paul Lukas!Flambeau “Himbo Flambeau”. Where other Flambeaus are violent or dangerous or geniuses, Lukas!Flambeau is just a big dumb idiot who respects women and has a great sense of humour and writes all his letters in the third person like Elmo for some reason. I would die for him.

At one point Flambeau in disguise is talking to the police, and when the police criticise Flambeau, disguised Flambeau says “Oh but I assure! I have read many things about this Flambeau! He is a fearless, handsome fellow!” The absolute idiot. I adore him with my whole heart.

The film is set in London, like the books, but an idealised Hollywood version of London, i.e., almost entirely unlike London.

Walter Connolly!Father Brown is also entirely lacking in braincells. Look at these two idiot men:

I love them.

Oh oh! And the most important thing, the thing that carries over into most other adaptations? NEW ORIGINAL CHARACTERS!!

This movie invents a few characters that weren’t in the books, but the most important ones are Mrs Boggs:

She doesn’t really add much to the plot but she’s funny and I love her so I’ll forgive it.

She’s Father Brown’s housekeeper, she’s basically just the fussing maternal female character archetype who fusses around in the background, but she does it well and plays it with charm so I’ll allow it.

(Honestly this whole film is just. Not *technically* good or original, but just so charming and with so much heart that I unironically adore it.)

She tries to make Father Brown drink his milk because it’s good for him even though he doesn’t like it, and keeps checking back in on him to make sure he’s drunk it, it’s literally like a mother and her small child.

She objects to policemen in the presbytery because of their “big muddy boots on the carpet” but is fine with just letting Flambeau in whenever despite the prevailing rumour in London being that Flambeau killed a man. We stan a queen of having priorities.

When Inspector Valentine summons Father Brown to the station, Mrs Boggs pops up in the background, assumes Father Brown’s being arrested, and says “Oh dear, I knew it!” and it makes me giggle like an idiot every time.

The other, more important original character invented for this movie is my girl Evelyn Fischer:

I love her, I would die for her, she’s flawless.

She’s basically your typical bored and rebellious young aristocrat, but she has a chaotic streak that I adore.

She sneaks out of her family’s mansion to go to a seedy underground club/illegal gambling ring in Soho (I mean I assume it’s Soho, a seedy part of London in that general vicinity, at least. I’m not about to get bogged down trying to understand the geography of London according to Hollywood), flirts with a bunch of strangers for fun, then when the police raid the place and everyone else is panicking she stands stock still, cheerfully says “Oh goody, I shall probably get my name in the papers!” and has to be physically dragged out of the building by Flambeau.

Later on Flambeau breaks into her bedroom in the middle of the night and she’s just very calmly like “What are you doing?”, and even when she finds out it’s Flambeau, a man widely believed to be dangerous and violent, instead of being scared, she calls him an idiot right to his face.

She forms the third part of the main trio of the movie with Father Brown and Flambeau (RIP to Valentine, demoted to tertiary character in a loose adaptation of the one (1) story where he was the main character lol) and together the three of them share a single braincell and have to take turns with it, while Mrs Boggs fusses in the background at the trio’s increasingly bonkers decisions.

The movie ends with Father Brown and Evelyn sharing an emotional farewell with Flambeau through the window of a police car and promising to look after each other until Flambeau’s released, wow poly rights.

The Adventures of Father Brown (1945):

The adaptation there’s the least amount of information about, but I’ve done my best to find everything I can find on it.

An American radio show made towards the end of wartime, it’s a bit of an odd one, and believe me Father Brown adaptations have gone some odd places.

Only two episodes survive, or at least if more do survive then whoever has them is being very selfish and hoarding them to themselves because only two episodes are publicly available anywhere, and the audio quality of those is a bit dodge. (Though that is to be expected, they do appear to be home recordings, from 1945. Honestly we should be grateful to even have two full episodes.)

If the actors I’ve found are the right people, this show featured by far the youngest Father Brown and Flambeau, at the start of the show the actor playing Father Brown was only 36 and the actor playing Flambeau was only 27. They’re BABIES. (Honestly I’d like to see more age variation in Father Brown adaptations, as I have extensively rambled about before, the characters have literally no canon ages in the books, I think people ought to be a little more imaginative instead of always building on the adaptations that came before, even if it is really cool to see traces of all the previous adaptations in each new one that comes along. It’s something I haven’t noticed as much in adaptations of other golden age detective novels, but the Father Brown adaptations do seem to be stuck in some kind of game of “yes, AND” with each other. I would REALLY like to see an adaptation where Flambeau is older than Father Brown though, it's just something we've never had before despite there being literally nothing in the books to suggest this can't be the case, and I just think it'd be neat.)

This show is really really painfully American, in a real old fashioned "golly gee whizz mister" kind of way, to the point it almost feels like a parody, and I honestly find it kind of endearing.

Even Flambeau frequently slips into a very American accent to the point that my affectionate nickname for him is "The All-American Flambeau", and it's great. He's great.

Honestly I could accept the accents and the slang, for some reason the only thing that really threw me was Father Brown referring to money in cents and nickels.

Needless to say, this adaptation is not set in London. It is instead set in Generic Unspecified Smalltown USA. It's fine. This is fine. I already have so many films and shows set in London, I can swallow my London pride and let America have this.

It's hard to get a real grasp on characters from just two episodes, but I like this Father Brown and Flambeau, even if they are a little overly serious, and even if Flambeau doesn't really do much. He may be a bit serious and a bit useless but All-American Flambeau stays up late anxiously waiting for Father Brown to get home safely and it's very sweet. What a good boy.

All-American Flambeau also carries handcuffs around with him for some reason? But no weapons? Why is All-American Flambeau one of the few Flambeaus not to have a gun? Oh well, he's still sweet.

The 1945 radio show also gives us some original characters, but they're very much side characters and not part of the main plot and it's very hard to get a good grasp on a character from just a few minutes of audio from just two episodes but here's what I could gather:

Nora is another fussing housekeeper! She seems younger and less maternal than Mrs Boggs, but I don't know if that's just because the whole cast was on the younger side. (Could the radio station not find anyone over the age of 40? Were they in short supply in 1945 or something? Ah well.) She seems dedicated to helping Father Brown get some peace and quiet that he never goddamn gets because someone always goes and gets themselves murdered. In both surviving episodes a knock at the door disturbs Father Brown’s rest, Nora opens it professionally, sees it's Flambeau, and immediately drops the professionalism and is immediately like "oh it's only you", so I can only assume every episode started this way. I do hope so.

Father Peter is a junior priest who answers to Father Brown and takes over his duties on his days off. He's implied by the dialogue to be considerably younger than Father Brown, Nora, and Flambeau, but if their actors are anything to go by then they're not that old themselves, and though Father Brown seems to talk to Father Peter like he's a literal child, he is still a priest so I very much doubt that's the case. He seems sweet and harmless, but he's only in one of the surviving episodes and only in that towards the end and mentioned briefly at the start, so it's hard to judge completely. It's highly unlikely that the reason he's not even mentioned in the later surviving episode is because he turned out to secretly be an evil murderer, but, this being a Father Brown adaptation, not entirely unfounded. (But no, he's probably just a sweet boy who exists to have exposition delivered to him.)

Father Brown/The Detective (1954):

The Alec Guinness movie! The one haters of any of the other adaptations complain that adaptation isn't more like, but in my humble opinion, actually the worst adaptation.

Like, I don't hate it! The cast is mostly stellar actors and if I just saw it as a movie on its own, it'd probably be fine. But as a Father Brown adaptation watched in context of the books and the other adaptations, it has a few issues imo.

Most glaringly it has Tone Issues. This film cannot decide if it's a comedy or not. The original posters certainly marketed it as one (see above) and half the cast are noted comic actors who were famous at the time for comedy, goddamn SID JAMES is in it, but the entire third act is played painfully straight, half the cast is mugging for the camera and trying way too hard to be funny while the other cast is giving extremely serious and subtle performances, like. I have no problem with a Father Brown adaptation being played for laughs, and I have no problem with a Father Brown adaptation being played for drama, both can work beautifully, but just PICK ONE, PLEASE

All of my other gripes with the film are very petty and nitpicky, this film calls Father Brown and Flambeau "Ignatius Brown" and "Gustav Flambeau" even though Father Brown has the canon first initial "J" and Flambeau has the canon first name "Hercule", and I hate it a lot. "Ignatius and Gustav" is the second worst thing any Father Brown adaptation has ever done to me.

My other petty nitpick with the movie is that it makes Flambeau literal nobility. The man is a duke. In my opinion Flambeau should always either have a completely mysterious past or be a nobody who came from nothing, someone who grew up with land and title and many servants and a family coat of arms, living in a whole entire castle with his family name and coat of arms engraved into the side of it, growing up and stealing from people, is a whole lot less sympathetic in my opinion. Like to be fair his parents are dead which is sad I guess and his castle has seen better days, but dude. You still own a castle. People who live in castles do not get to lecture other people about materialism.

THAT SAID, Peter Finch is still the best thing about the movie. I love all Flambeaus dearly, even the ones that are little bitches. He’s a bit of an emo “oh woe is me” sadboy, but he’s very charming, and actually good at disguises and being undercover, get dunked on Lukas!Flambeau.

Guinness!Brown likes to feed ducks and Flambeau calls him “the angel with the flaming umbrella”, which makes my inner Good Omens fan who loves finding parallels between Aziraphale & Crowley and Father Brown & Flambeau go 👀

There is one really good scene, in the Paris Catacombs. And by “good” I mean “really really bafflingly gay”:

I truly, truly do not understand how this scene was written, directed, acted, filmed, and edited without ANYONE saying “hey lads does this seem a bit gay to you?”

Father Brown, literally lying on top of Flambeau and pinning him to the ground, whispering: “I would like to set you free.” Flambeau, softly, gently smiling while his face is literal inches away from Father Brown, who is still pinning him to the ground: “Ah, now I begin to understand what you are.”

What the fuck, you guys. What the entire fuck. This scene keeps me up at night.

ANYWAY

This film is also not set in London. It is instead mostly set in a rural English village, and partially in Paris and partially in rural France. Paris is fun but I miss London.

This film also has some original characters. I should probably talk about them.

This is Lady Warren:

She’s Father Brown’s friend, and she’s a Lady, and that’s all I can really tell you.

She’s very well-mannered and dignified and sophisticated.

She gives me the vibe that she exists solely because the writers decided they needed a female character but then remembered at the last minute they had no idea how to write women, so as a result she is almost entirely irrelevant to the plot. I don’t want to say I don’t like her, because she’s done nothing wrong and it’s not her fault, but like. Why is she here? Poor thing, she deserved to be plot-relevant, really.

She lives in a big mansion and owns some very nice things, and she gets annoyed when she invites Father Brown to lunch but he just stares blankly into space thinking about Flambeau the whole time. (Mood honestly FB. Me too.)

She flirts a bit with Flambeau in one very pointless scene that came the hell out of nowhere, went nowhere, and was never mentioned again. It was like the writers realised how gay the previous Flambeau scene was and suddenly tried to convince me this man is a hetero. Nice try, writers. You can’t fool me that easily.

The other main original character is Bert:

Alright, own up, whose bright idea was it to put Sid James in a Father Brown movie?

Bert is a smalltime criminal who’s a friend of Father Brown, who Father Brown protects from the police, but tries to convince to get on the straight and narrow by getting him as a job as Lady Warren’s chauffer.

This is would be fine, were it not for the fact he’s played by Sid James, who only knows how to play Sid James, and is just Sid Jamesing it up in every scene. I don’t have anything against Sid James. I like my fair share of Carry On films. But Sid James does not belong in Father Brown and I want to fight whoever decided he did.

Father Brown (1974):

LADS LADS LADS! It’s time for the first TV show, and it’s time for my favourite boys:

Oh! OH! How I love Kenneth More!Brown and Dennis Burgess!Flambeau. They’re just. So cute. My two special boys.

Not only that, but LADS! We’re finally back in London!

A gritty, dirty, London in the 1930s no less, with cool London buses and political unrest and grimy pubs and the constant threat of world war. Alexa this is so cool play London Calling.

In one episode Flambeau gets verbally abused by an anti-immigration right-wing zealot. :( My poor boy. :(

(But it’s okay, shortly after Father Brown witnesses this, the racist shows up dead in exactly the place Father Brown earlier said would be a good place to commit a murder. Now I’m not accusing Father Brown of murder, BUT)

This show made the bold but valid decision to skip Flambeau’s redemption arc and start the show when Flambeau is already a seasoned and respected private detective who’s lived in London and been Father Brown’s closest friend for many years. As a result this Father Brown and Flambeau are ridiculously domestic with each other. Look at this peak Old Married Couple energy:

Oh! I just love them.

I would love to know how Burgess!Flambeau’s redemption went down though, because Burgess!Flambeau is BY FAR the least repentant of all the reformed Flambeaus. He proudly boasts about his crimes, he still believes he “deserved to succeed”, he still proudly talks about how “daring and outrageous” he was, which begs the question of why did he stop at all? Literally the only explanation I can think of is that he’s literally only doing this for Father Brown’s sake, which. uwu

Oh GOD I love Burgess!Flambeau. Obviously I love all Flambeaus a lot, and choosing a favourite feels like choosing a favourite child, but let’s just say: if the Flambeaus WERE my children, Burgess!Flambeau would be quite spoilt. My ~ Daring And Outrageous ~ boy.

More!Brown and Burgess!Flambeau are both really really socially awkward, uncomfortable in crowds, and nervously say “oh dear” a lot. They really are ridiculously cute.

They also only giggle and joke and act silly when they’re together, when they’re apart they’re both sort of sad and quiet and withdrawn. (This makes episodes Flambeau isn’t in a bit harder to watch because Father Brown is just kind of lost and lonely without his emotional support Frenchman, with three notable exceptions: that time Father Brown infodumped about the mating habits of whales at the Father Superior for a solid minute, that time Father Brown met a dog and reacted with unrestrained delight, and that time someone mentioned former criminals in passing and Father Brown’s whole face lit up and he started gushing about how Flambeau was living in London now and doing very well as a private detective, completely unprompted.)

This show also brought back book!Brown and Flambeau’s habit of always going on holiday together! Wonderful! We love to see it!

This show is also the first time in the entire Father Brown franchise where gay people are overtly acknowledged to exist! And Father Brown is non-judgemental! A roman catholic priest written in the 1970s and living in the 1930s who canonically isn’t homophobic! I have no choice but to stan forever!

You remember what I said about liking to point out Good Omens parallels? WELL

Kenneth More!Father Brown and Dennis Burgess!Flambeau both live in London

Burgess!Flambeau lives in a brightly lit, pale walled, airy and spacious, modern (for the time) London apartment, while More!Brown prefers gothic architecture and lives in an old, grey, cramped, stone building absolutely full floor to ceiling with books

They go out for intimate candlelit dinners for two at very fancy London restaurants

Desperate people come to Flambeau because he “knows the game on both sides of the fence”

Father Brown responds with a quiet and miserable “oh dear” when asked to actually do his job instead of just watching plays and drinking wine

Father Brown calls Flambeau “my dear” at times and it personally kills me

I mean. I’m just saying. 👀

Now, isn’t there a third important character in the books?

Oh yes of course:

HIM! THE BASTARD MAN! INSPECTOR VALENTIN HIMSELF!

(Nobody understands him! IT’S NOT! EVIL!)

This show is the literally only adaptation to include the Valentin betrayal and I’m not gonna lie. It’s a very difficult episode to sit through, it’s far darker and grimmer and more depressing than you would ever expect from Father Brown, but my god it’s done so well. Especially considering the teeny tiny budget they clearly had, only four sets are used the entire episode and the whole thing takes place inside Valentin’s house, but even that adds a certain claustrophobic atmosphere and just. It’s done so well.

I think the entire budget went on gore effects because the decapitated heads in this episode are disturbingly realistic for the time the show was made and genuinely grim to look at. Not to mention the intense downer ending. Not to mention this was THE FINAL EPISODE OF THE SHOW

THE INTENSE DOWNER ENDING OF THIS EPISODE IS HOW THE WHOLE SHOW ENDED

God it hurts so much but I lowkey love it.

Father Brown Stories (1984):

The second radio series, and the first BBC adaptation!

Thrilling times for fans of actors being the right nationality for their characters, because after previously being played by a Hungarian, an American, an Englishman, and a Welshman, Flambeau is finally being played by a Frenchman, Olivier Pierre!

Father Brown himself is played by Andrew Sachs, Manuel himself.

Not gonna lie. It’s kind of hard to figure out how to explain the radio show.

We’re? Maybe back in London? Honestly it’s really unclear.

Pierre!Flambeau is kind of adorable. He’s described as looking like book!Flambeau physically, huge and buff and terrifying, but he has literally none of the temper or predisposition to violence.

Pierre!Flambeau doesn’t speak very good English at all, and oftentimes will react with “...What?” when he hears a strange English idiom or turn of phrase.

One time he says “Perhaps we should.. push on? SEE HOW I AM MASTERING YOUR ENGLISH IDIOMS” and it’s the cutest thing that’s ever happened.

To try and get better at understanding both the English language and the English people, Flambeau starts obsessively reading Alice in Wonderland and Through The Looking Glass, massive giant adorable boy.

One time Father Brown gets complimented of being academically minded and well read, and then asked if Flambeau is also a keen reader, and when Flambeau tries to say no, Father Brown interrupts and proudly and earnestly says “Oh yes! Monsieur Flambeau is one of our top Lewis Carroll scholars!”, it’s honestly adorable.

This adaptation finally uses “John” as Father Brown’s first name, as it should always have been! I love it!

This series said FUCK Father Brown having a mysterious past and no former friends or relatives! Now he has siblings, and friends who knew him before he was a priest who still call him “John”!

Father Brown himself speaks in a very sweet and soft and wavering way that makes my heart melt.

Sadly and unfortunately, I have to acknowledge the final episode of the show, which is the top worst thing any Father Brown adaptation has ever done to me.

It’s. It’s a crossover. With Sherlock Holmes. Actual goddamn Sherlock Holmes is in it. I hate it. I hate it so much. “Elementary, my dear Flambeau” shut the hell up, if this Flambeau won’t fling you down a flight of stairs then I will.

I deliberately avoided all Holmes-related media for THREE YEARS only for the awful man to spring up on me in Father Brown?? How could you do this to me???

I’m going to yeet myself into the sun, bye everyone.

(On the plus side, the Sherlock Holmes episode does have one of Father Brown’s parishioners recognise Flambeau as “a close friend of Father Brown and a frequent visitor to his room” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), so that’s nice I suppose. I’ll still never forgive the writers of this show for putting me through this.)

Father Brown (2013):

YOU ARE HERE.

I kind of see the current TV series as a culmination of all the adaptations that’ve come before? I can definitely see echoes of all of them in it.

And it’s great! I really really love it. I love it a lot.

I think about it daily.

My one and only complaint I would have is that Flambeau isn’t in it enough. Not just because he’s my favourite, though I’d obviously not be fooling anyone who’s read all this if I said he isn’t.

And it’s not that I don’t love the show as it is, and find the one Flambeau episode a series always something really special, so I don’t know what I’d have the writers do, exactly.

But it’s just. In literally every other version of Father Brown, Flambeau is the second most important character and the second main protagonist, and to have him in this show so little that some fans or reviewers call him a “minor character” and others call him a “recurring villain”, though I myself don’t see him either of those ways of course because he’s still Flambeau, it’s just kinda sad and painful, y’know?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being silly.

Hopefully he’s a regular in at least the final season of the show. If I don’t get my favourite partners in crime solving I’m rioting.

Anyway that’s my “””brief””” rundown on all the main versions of Father Brown!! I hope you liked it!!

#Anonymous #father brown #hercule flambeau #flambrown

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hello-yue-here · 3 years

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If ur cool w it, I’d love a fluffy jetko oneshot!!! I’m chill w any premise honestly

we stan jetko in this house my friend

~~~

The second he heard the front door close, the jangle of keys hitting the floor, and Jet’s exasperated groan as he flopped face-first into their couch, Zuko knew something was up.

“Who was it this time?” Zuko said without looking up from his phone.

“fucking Zhao, Zu,” Jet mumbled into the cushions, “he said that if I wanted...”

The rest of his words were swallowed by the couch. Zuko sighed and put his phone on the coffee table before moving to join his grouchy boyfriend on the couch. He knew the only thing that could ever cheer Jet up after a shitty day with Zhao was throwing on an episode of 90 Day Fiancé and having Zuko play with his hair.

He tried to decipher what Jet was still muttering into a throw pillow before Zuko shoved him upwards and situated himself underneath him. Jet sighed contently into Zuko’s chest while he turned on the television.

“All of that got lost in the couch, babe,” Zuko said as Rebecca and Zeid popped onscreen, “What’d Zhao do again?”

Jet sighed, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes, “He told me that if I ever wanted to make it big at the firm that I’d have to do more than just sit around on my ass all day instead of doing real work. Does he fucking realize how hypocritical he sounds? I organized 14 case files today. 14 Zu! And I won 3 cases in a row in the past two months. When was the last time you won a case, huh Zhao? He’s just bitter that I’ve won more cases at my age than he ever did. And, to top it all off, he still forces me to get him his goddamn Starbucks everyday.”

Zuko knew how difficult Zhao could be first hand. The man used to be a partner at his father’s old law firm before he was arrested for fraud, and was known for being a ruthless attorney. How he ever became a family lawyer after two decades in real estate law would stump Zuko for the rest of time.

“He’s always been a dick hun, but he’s supposed to be retiring in a few months right? Then you’ll never have to deal with his stupid sideburns ever again,” Zuko replied while raking his fingers through Jet’s hair, thoroughly messing it up the way he knew Jet liked it.

Jet melted under the touch and traced the lettering on Zuko’s old college t-shirt, “Yeah, you’re right. Still, he’s a selfish douche who sucks at his job,” he sighed again, “I just wish he’d stop treating me like an intern. I’ve worked there for three years already. He should be treating me like a potential replacement for him, not his personal fucking coffee maker.”

“Put creamer in his coffee, it gives him the shits.”

“How do you even know that?”

“Azula and I would do it to him whenever he came over for meeting’s with Ozai. At first it was an accident but when we found out he was lactose intolerant we kept doing it. Bastard deserved it.”

“Damn right he did,” Jet said as he propped his chin up on Zuko’s chest to look him in the eyes, a dorky grin creeping onto his face, “How’d I get so lucky to land a devious little shit like you?”

Zuko leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple, “I dunno Jet, you probably pissed someone off really bad in a past life.”

Jet laughed before meeting Zuko in a real kiss this time. Zuko pulled him in closer by the neck, his other hand still running through Jet’s hair. Like everything he did, Jet kissed Zuko with a quiet passion that sent sparks down his spine.

Despite their rocky start and their matching tendency to get angry a little too easily, Zuko knew that Jet would always defend him and love him with the same fire he brought to the courtroom.

It was only fair that Zuko try to do the same for him.

Jet broke away from the kiss, and stared at Zuko with soft brown eyes.

“I love you,” Jet whispered.

“Yeah, I know,” Zuko grinned, earning himself a light jab in the gut.

“You’re an asshole you know that?”

“Hey, I’m only an asshole to everyone that isn’t you.”

Jet rolled his eyes and slumped back down into Zuko’s chest, dragging Zuko’s hand back to his hair.

“Fine, I guess I can deal with that mister I-enjoy-making-kids-cry,” Jet said.

“Hey I only make kids cry on Tuesdays. Today’s Friday babe.”

“Right, how could I forget,” he said sarcastically, “Now shut up, I wanna see how badly Zied fucks it up with Rebecca this time.”

So, Zuko shut up, wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, and judged the hell out of Zied.

#jetko #lawyer jet #i hate everyone except my grumpy boyfriend zuko #idk how being a lawyer works so i threw in terms i learned from tv and movies and pray it makes sense #atla drabble #one shot #atla #avatar the last airbender #my writing #asks are open #send me a prompt #fanfic #idk if you can tell but i love 90 day fiance lmao guilty pleasure

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fakeikemen · 4 years

Text

Anti-Kat/aang rant:

I had some leftover doubts since I recently joined the fandom, about if Kat/aangers had any points worth mentioning about why Kat/aang is a good ship or why Zutara is a bad ship. And the YouTube comment section of the soon-to-be-premiered video of Zutara relationship progression on the official ATLA Yt channel has convinced me that— No, they don't have any points at all. They actually invent excuses to hate on Zutara. And ridiculous excuses at that:

"Katara and Zuko have no chemistry. They are like siblings. Katara is the sister that Zuko never had."

Like I would've actually considered this theory if Zuko and Katara weren't so obviously romantically framed in the scenes they shared starting from "Crossroads of Destiny".

Somebody in the comments accepted that Zutara scenes were romantically framed but that didn't mean anything.

And I'm like: ?!?

This is animation we're talking about? Like anything that happens onscreen is because it was 100% intentionally put there, because it is drawn, coloured and animated. Even for a second worth of screen time, multiple frames have to be created.

Why would they put in that much hard work into making something if nothing was to come of it? Why would they frame those scenes romantically if Zuko and Katara were supposed to be siblings?!

Argument: Null and void.

"Zutara could never happen because Katara already had A/ang loving her and because Zuko had already M/ai as a lover."

Oh so fictional characters are strictly supposed to have only one possible love interest because anything else is illegal?? That's some bullshit right there.

And while we're at it, they talk about M/ai like she was perfect for Zuko but she was not? She treated him like trash? And Zuko literally forgot about her until she showed up in the last few minutes. Yeah, that's true love right there.

Argument: Null and void.

"Katara and A/ang have always been in love with each other from the start. Katara was ready to leave her village for A/ang after 5 mins of meeting him, obviously she was whipped. She was one who suggested that they kiss in Cave of two lovers and she blushed. She kissed A/ang on his cheek many times!! It's true love!! You're blind if you don't see that!!"

I—? Like, its clearly stated in canon that she wants to go with A/ang because this is her only shot at learning waterbending? They really think Katara exists as a character only to be A/ang's love interest, huh? That's sad.

She suggested that they kiss because they were trapped in a cave with no way out. There was a sculpture of two people kissing with ominous scriptures like: "Love will lead the way in the dark" (I don't exactly remember). This was evidently a "kiss or die" situation? Like it just shows that there is no other way Katara would've thought of kissing A/ang?? Seriously this is minus points for Kat/aang Idk why they even use this argument.

And why do they think the innocent cheek kisses are proof of Katara "not keeping her hands to herself"? Ugh. And if these kisses are romantic, why are we always shown that A/ang likes it but not the other way around, i.e.: Katara blushing after kissing A/ang's cheek?

Like Kat/aang's so called development is a joke. There are no two ways about it.

Argument: Null and void.

"Katara hated Zuko for 90% of the show and was kinda okay with him for the last few episodes."

Katara definitely didn't hate Zuko in Book 1 and 2. She was angry at him, yes, but she didn't outright hate him? Like if she did she wouldn't have bothered to offer to heal Iroh. She wouldn't have reached back to Zuko in the catacombs either. And she definitely wouldn't have offered to heal his scar.Her grudge against Zuko became personal only after Zuko betrayed her in Ba Sing Se.

For which he earned forgiveness from Katara fair and square and Katara forgave him at her own volition. No one forced Katara to forgive him.

And after being forgiven, Zuko and Katara were practically glued to each other. They really act like the episodes after TSR don't exist, huh?

Argument: Null and void.

"Zuko is abusive. He hurt Katara many times. He tortured Katara and her friends and tried to kill them."

Where? Seriously, where? Definitely not in canon.

Like, the narrative takes so much time to establish the fact that Zuko doesn't hurt people fatally under any circumstances. He is a victim of abuse: not an abuser himself. When did he hurt Katara? He pretty much saved her from a much, much worse fate in "The Waterbending Scroll" i.e.; the Pirates. He only knocks her unconscious at the North Pole and Katara returns the favour the next time she sees him. Combat is not physical abuse. Where did he torture them? He barely caught hold of them long enough to even actually say anything. Zuko literally got his face burned off for trying to prevent some soldiers from dying. This character would try to kill a 12 yo and his friends? Bullshit. He never tried to kill them. Other than the time he hired Combustion Man which was sooooo evidently wildly OOC for Zuko The worst of Zuko's behaviour paints him mostly as a brat and sometimes as a rude assh*le.

Saying that he was anything more is pretty much gross mis-characterization of Zuko. Like, its literally making up things that didn't happened.

Throwing around heavy words to make the opposing ship look bad is not woke at all.

Argument: Null and void.

"Zutara never kissed on the show, Kat/aang had 4-5 kisses."

Yes this is a real argument from their side.

Like yeah man, kisses = true love; why didn't I think of that before?

This is a new low.

Their first kiss is "kiss or die", the next kiss was in a daydream, the next two kisses were non-consensual and the last kiss featured an extremely OOC Katara.

The fact that Zutara has equal, if not more shippers even without any kisses just makes Zutara more powerful.

Argument: Null and void.

"Zutara makes no sense."

Oh but it does. It makes an awful lot of sense. A lot more sense than their ship.

Like their personal character arcs are so beautifully intertwined? They literally complete each others arcs? Them getting together would reinforce the main message of the show: healing and growth? They are both so alike yet different; they balance each other so perfectly? Zuko actively works toward improving Katara's mental health? Katara offers him endless support? They are so beautiful: I cry.

Argument: Null and void.

"Kat/aang is cAnOn!!!"

Do they have a better argument: No.

Like yeah, we know. We know that Kat/aang is canon. But we also know that the Zutara fanon is much better. And they know it too. That is literally why they feel the need to attack Zutara whenever they can. They can't even state valid points in their defense? And when you state logical points, they just— ignore it? It's almost like they harp about canon to remind themselves about it.

Argument: Even the arguer doesn't believe it.

Yes these are comments I saw with my own two eyes in the comments section. Is it just me or do Kat/aang shippers chose to remain wilfully ignorant about the context of the show?

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jelly-pies · 4 years

Text

Places and Embraces (that you thought you left behind)

By @jelly-pies for @jaybaybay-01, for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: Teen (mentions of torture, electrocution, near drowning)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter & Tony & Avengers Team

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, James Rhodes, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts

Summary:

"So now we know what we’re up against: a Hydra cell just launched a cyber attack on the Avengers,” Tony said, slowly drawing out each bitter word. He took a deep breath. “And they used Peter Parker to do it.”

Hydra brainwashes Peter and turns him against the Avengers. Tony jumps out of semi-retirement to get his kid back.

Word count: 12.2k (read on AO3 or click below!)

----- Chapter 1: The Compound -----

It was supposed to be a simple patrol.

“I just sent the address to Karen. Track their activity. Eyes open. Update me or Sam the second things get fishy…”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice groaned through the speakers, “I think I know what ‘reconnaissance’ means.”

“Might as well spell it out for you, because sometimes I think you don’t know what ‘stay back and wait for backup’ means.”

Peter huffed, and Tony imagined the twenty-year-old rolling his eyes in accompaniment. “That was one time,” he complained. “I mean, two." Another pause. “Wait. I mean…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony pressed a button to bring Peter’s view up on his computer. The kid was swinging through the city, crisscrossing between buildings at breakneck speed. Tony swept the footage to the side of his holo-screens before all the movement made his head spin. Damn, he was getting old.

“Hey, you wanna hear a thought I just had?” Peter said, swinging up and landing on an empty rooftop. “Iron Man’s retired, right? And Spider-Man’s official Avenger-Guardian of New York City.”

“Not a thing.”

“Totally a thing. So—listen, Mr. Stark—in the Avengers, do I rank higher than you now? ” Peter teased.

Tony rolled his eyes. “First off, I’m voluntarily relegated to tech support, I’m not retired.”

“You make a pretty decent Guy in the Chair, by the way. I mean, I still prefer Ned, but with summer break and all…”

“And second,” Tony interrupted, “Peter, this is serious. This is Hydra. I don’t want to hear about some solo-act hero found dead in the news tonight, you hear me?”

Peter chuckled softly. “You’re always gonna worry about me.”

Tony didn’t answer. But he caught his onscreen notification that Karen’s secondary tracker, connecting directly to the Avengers Compound, had been turned on. So the kid was taking precautions; Tony took that as a win.

“What we discussed,” Tony said softly. “Keep your distance. Web ‘em up.”

“Callback! That was a callback.” Finishing whatever tweaks he’d apparently made to the suit’s settings, Peter leapt off the building and continued swinging. “Talk to you later, old man.”

Tony smiled fondly. “Later, disaster child.”

He kept FRIDAY running the screens, ready to alert him to any trouble, but everything seemed normal on Peter’s patrol. And why wouldn’t it? It was supposed to be normal.

In a few minutes Morgan was banging on the garage door, calling her father for dinner. Tony left for the night.

It was hours later when Pepper shook him awake. Wide-eyed, with a deceptively calm voice, she relayed the emergency alert from FRIDAY. But by then it was too late.

It was supposed to be a quiet night. Instead, Peter Parker was missing.

-----

“Hydra,” May repeated in a hollow voice. “Hydra?”

“They had a suspected cell in NYC—sketchy, black market type medical lab.” Tony removed his sunglasses as he sank into May’s couch. His joints ached from the fatigue of the last few hours; the sunlight from the windows assaulted his baggy eyes. “It was supposed to be a routine check,” he exhaled, the same words he had been telling himself over and over and over. “Peter was just… keeping an eye out, waiting to confirm illegal activity.”

“Well, you got your confirmation.”

Tony looked up at that, an apology ready on his lips, but when he met May’s eyes they only looked sad.

“Is he—did they—Tony, do you think Peter’s—”

“No,” he replied strongly. “That’s one thing I can say for sure.” It’s the only thing he could say for sure. “They wouldn’t take the trouble, disabling his suit so expertly, if they were just going to…” He let the rest trail off unspoken. May dropped beside him on the couch.

Tony grit his teeth, pinched his eyes shut. He’d been up all night, and his chest ached even more than his head did. “Callback! That was a callback,” Peter’s blithe voice from yesterday echoed in his ears. This was another one, Tony supposed. A callback to Titan… to Beck… to, well, a couple more times after that, to be honest. The supposedly quiet semi-retirement years weren’t so quiet with another superhero in the family.

“So, we just… search,” May whispered beside him, the same pain, the same haunting memories evident on her frown lines. “And wait?”

Tony felt the full weight of his years pressing down on him, pushing as he fought to lift his head, and he gave a simple, helpless nod.

-----

It was supposedly a standard security update.

That’s what Tony told the guards, and anyone else with dropped jaws and shining eyes who wondered what Tony Stark, retired hero, was doing at the Avengers Compound on an ordinary Thursday. He indulged the gaping staff members with a signature Tony Stark grin as he made his way into the main building. But his tinted sunglasses stayed on his face the whole time.

“Alright, show me,” he greeted Sam shortly when he reached the entrance to the main control room. Sam nodded silently and led him inside.

The control room was the heart of Compound security; as spacious as the lab, only with more computers and holo-displays over the walls. With such an important building to protect, it was usually bustling with activity, but now there were only three people sitting around the main panel in the center of the room. All three—Bruce, Barnes, and Rhodey—were peering into holo-screens, surveying the damage from last night’s cyber attack.

Because the Compound had been attacked.

It was a quiet affair; the culprit had been in and out of the control room in a matter of minutes. They had dealt considerable damage—taken down servers, stolen terabytes of the Avengers’ encrypted files—but in terms of casualties, not a single guard had even been knocked out.

Like a ghost, Sam had told Tony that morning. A ghost who knew his way around the Compound. Who had the skills to hack into their system. Who was able to disable the Compound’s AI before it could sound the alarm.

A ghost who could crawl on walls.

Not a lot of people fit that description. And so Tony came, looked over the details of the attack, watched the security footage that Bruce brought up on his screen—the man in a black stealth suit, sticking up on a wall to avoid a roving guard. FRIDAY analyzed the footage too, but Tony didn’t need her verification that the masked attacker’s physique matched the known measurements of one Peter Parker. None of them really did.

“Shit,” was all Tony could mutter under his breath as the video ended. “Shit.”

“That’s all we caught; others cameras were disabled,” Bruce said. “As far as we know there was only one perpetrator. Don’t know where he headed after exiting the building, or his intentions with that data. But as to who that perpetrator was… Tony, I’m sorry. All the clues point in the same direction.”

Tony clenched his jaw. Of all the possible outcomes to his weeks-long search, all the scenarios both his dreams and his nightmares presented—he would have preferred almost anything but this. Anything but that dark figure that could only be one person, stealing around the very corridors Tony had just passed minutes ago. Anything but Peter Parker, so lost, and yet caught on camera so close to home: insult to injury waved right in their faces.

It was supposed to be a straightforward operation. Search for his kid, raid all the hideouts, wait for a ransom note as a very last resort. Instead, things had just turned much, much more complicated.

“Tones… at least he’s alive,” Rhodey said softly, when Tony remained silent.

“How?” Tony said through gritted teeth. “It’s barely been three weeks. How?”

Rhodey frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at him!” Tony waved at the screens where the security footage was still displayed. “Moves quickly, not under duress, they didn’t force him to do this. If they did, he would have done something, I know him, he—he would have left us some sort of clue.”

“And he came alone,” Rhodey said in realization. “They wouldn’t have sent him in alone.”

Tony nodded. “So how?”

As the meaning of Tony’s question sank in, everyone slowly turned to the one person in the room who had so far remained quiet.

“How?” Tony repeated to Bucky Barnes, his voice cracking at the single syllable.

The supersoldier met his gaze evenly. “There are ways. It's been less than a month, but… it’s possible.” Barnes shifted his feet and clenched the arms of his chair—not from any discomfort with him, Tony knew; he and Barnes had laboriously buried that hatchet years ago. But Bucky had always taken on a haunted demeanor lately whenever Peter was mentioned. The kid Wilson and Barnes had grown to train, to work with on missions, now captured by the very organization where the Winter Soldier had spent the majority of his life.

“There is some good news,” Bucky added after a pause. “The more they rushed the… process… the easier it will be to undo. If it’s really mind control… a good shock to his system, a strong reminder… there's hope, Tony. But the hard part is finding him.”

“Then let’s find him,” Sam declared simply, crossing his arms, and the room took a collective breath as if at a rallying cry. “At least this attack gives us a new lead. Tony? Rhodes mentioned something about a tracker in the stolen data’s encryption?”

“Yeah. It was, um.” Tony leaned back slowly in his chair. One of his frequent headaches started blooming, and he brought a thumb and middle finger up against his temples, using the same hand to push his sunglasses further up. “It’s embedded in all the encrypted folders. Dormant until they try to decrypt the files, then we’ll be able to trace it. Rhodey and I put it there; not even Peter knows.”

“So at least our top secret data’s safe for a while.”

“Already started a trace on the signal,” Rhodey said. “We get a hit, I’m there.”

“Good. Yeah, but look. We can’t keep this quiet much longer.” Sam glanced apologetically at Tony. “The sheer scale of this security breach… I’ll have to bring the rest of our people in on this.”

Tony sighed. “That’s fine, Cap. Appreciate the initial discretion. But there’s no point hiding it now that we know what we’re up against.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, linked his fingers together and unlinked them again. Fidgeting as his mind was fidgeting to string the sentence together. “A Hydra cell just launched a cyber attack on the Avengers,” Tony finally said, slowly drawing out each bitter word. “And they used Peter Parker to do it.”

-----

“Looks like I missed the party.” Rhodey looked over the setup in the otherwise abandoned warehouse—where computers, panels, and communication equipment had once stood, there was now nothing but a pile of smashed hardware. His AI sent a quick notification on his suit’s HUD: no one in the building but him. And yet from the trace they’d left behind, it was obvious this had been an important Hydra outpost until only minutes ago. Rhodey sighed. “We’ll be lucky to salvage any info from this scrap heap.”

He heard Tony curse over the comms. “FRIDAY lost the tracking signal. God. We were so close.”

Rhodey noticed one panel still blinking under a pile of scrap, and he walked over to inspect it. “Something must have tipped them off,” he continued as he shuffled through the scattered equipment. “A certain… Peter tingle, maybe?”

“Spider sense,” Tony mumbled. “He prefers to call it spider sense. And it doesn't work like—never mind. Point is, they're gone.”

“Stay there, Rhodey,” Sam’s voice instructed. “Buck and I are en route, we’ll handle the perimeter. They can’t have gotten too far.”

“Hydra? Yeah, yeah they could have,” Tony replied despondently.

“Tony…”

“Let him be, Sam,” Bucky interrupted understandingly.

“Well, since I got here first, this proves one thing, at least.” Rhodey decided to keep up the conversation and, hopefully, the team’s long-fragile morale as he leaned over the blinking panel. He paused for dramatic effect. “War Machine flies faster than Captain America.”

Even through the earpiece he could hear Tony’s snort. Rhodey smiled. “It’s conclusive, Wilson.”

“Nah, man, don’t do that to me,” Sam protested. “We came from the Compound. You were already downtown.”

“I keep suggesting a race.” Bucky’s voice. “And you two never race. Just get it over with…”

“I have wings, it’s not the same! Wind conditions are never…”

“Oh, wind conditions are the problem—”

As his team continued the good-natured bickering, something on the panel suddenly caught Rhodey’s eye. Pushing away a broken computer screen that covered half the panel’s surface, Rhodey saw that beside the blinking indicator LED, the panel contained a small glass case with multiple wires branching out.

And inside the case was a shining piece of black metal. A spider emblem.

“Falcon—” Rhodey didn’t get to finish.

The warning on his HUD registered at the same time as the kick. Rhodey keeled over in his heavy armor; when he turned around, his attacker was already crouched over the panel and removing the spider emblem from its case.

He wore a black stealth suit and mask. He was lanky, but apparently strong enough to knock the War Machine to his knees. He moved swiftly, too, tearing the spider emblem off, storing it somewhere in his suit, and aiming his wrists towards Rhodey all in a matter of seconds. Rhodey put an arm up in defense; the webs shot out and wrapped around it.

“Shit.” Rhodey scrambled up. “Peter!”

He barely registered his teammates’ voices through the comms, echoing the name in relief, in shock, in fear. Rhodey shot an electroshock bullet but the masked man dodged expertly, leaping up and latching onto the rafters.

“Hey, gray Iron Man!” the unmistakable voice of Peter Parker called down. “Don’t have any glasses in that fancy suit?”

“Peter Parker! Peter, stop!” Rhodey tore the webs off his armor and took off, flying after Peter, shooting three more shock bullets in succession. All three bounced off the metal rafters harmlessly. Peter darted around pillars, bounced off the walls, evaded Rhodey at every turn until he was mere feet away from the exit. “Spider-Man!” Rhodey yelled in frustration.

Peter turned. That split second was all Rhodey needed; he crashed into the kid and both of them tumbled to the floor. Rhodey used his armor to break the fall, and then he rolled Peter off of him until they were lying side by side, coughing and groaning. “Spider-Man?” Rhodey tried, getting up on his elbows. “Kid?”

Peter only moaned weakly.

“Sorry I have to do this.” Rhodey loaded another electroshock bullet. “But we have to get you back to May. And Tony—”

For the second time that day, Rhodey saw the hit coming too late. Peter flipped upward, connecting his knee with Rhodey’s chin, and kicked the older man away with his other foot. As Rhodey fell backwards, Peter landed squarely on his feet and shot a web towards the door.

By the time Rhodey recovered, Peter was gone.

----- Chapter 2: The Lake House -----

The lake house looked beautiful in the late afternoon light. Golden rays danced off the surface of the water, painting its green surroundings with a warm glow. Calm, idyllic.

None of that mood was reflected in its inhabitants, however. The woman’s shoulders sagged as she loaded a bag in the trunk of their car. Then a little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, followed the woman out of the house, holding a red and blue stuffed toy tightly to her chest as she got in the back seat.

Worst of all was the man. He limped slightly as he walked, shuffling forward like he wasn’t even trying to keep his head up. The sunlight glinted on his prosthetic arm and on the glasses hanging on the front of his shirt, but it seemed only shadows reached his face. He stopped by the trunk where the woman was still standing and she said something to him. After a few moments he kissed her cheek, then got in the front seat. The woman went around the driver’s side. And they were off.

Just in time, Peter Parker thought, lowering the binoculars. Now he could proceed with the mission.

-----

"Peter Parker. Peter Parker.” He clung to the words like a lifeline.

"Still repeating that shit?” A kick to the back.

Peter curled tighter around himself. “P-Peter… my name—Peter Par… Parker…”

“Ah, let him,” another voice replied. “He can keep the damn name. He’ll forget everything else, anyway.”

“We can’t risk a trigger!”

“Peter Par—” A sharper kick. He whimpered.

“We can’t lose time!” the second voice hissed. “Now get that miserable piece of shit back on the table.”

Arms reached out. Hands grabbed at him.

And Peter woke up. Everything rushed in at the same time, like it always did—the sound of crickets—the sliver of moonlight through the trees—the sweat that stuck his stealth suit to his back—and Peter took off his mask and buried his head in his hands. After several seconds, when he could look up again without feeling like the entire world was charging at his senses, Peter put the mask back on and began to take stock of his surroundings.

He must have overdone the nap. Damn nightmares. He’d only started getting them that day at the warehouse, and now they were growing worse.

No matter—it was still early evening. He couldn’t strike until the family was at least several hours away, in case he accidentally tripped their alarm, so he’d decided on the nap. But now he really needed to move.

Peter crept around the edges of the lake, always keeping behind the treeline. He couldn’t screw this up, too, not after his last mistake, forgetting the spider-shaped core in the rush to evacuate the old base. This was Peter’s chance to make it up to his team.

Besides—he didn’t think he could take another round of punishment.

He reached the edge of the paved driveway without incident. On this side he was closest to his target, the lake house’s garage; he could see it about a hundred yards away. But the trees ended here, so Peter moved more carefully, keeping in mind his team’s stern warnings about the AI that guarded this property.

It was lucky, though, that the AI was all Peter had to deal with tonight. Unlike his first job at the Compound, there would be no humans for him to have to sneak around. It had been a point of contention back when he first received this assignment; Peter’s team had insisted he simply take out the lake house’s residents, but Peter pushed back, suggesting he attacked when no one was home. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about it—strongly enough to risk punishment by challenging orders. Satellite scans had shown there was no time in the family’s regular schedule when the house would be empty for several hours, so at first it had looked like Peter had no way to make his plan work.

Until today’s date had fallen from his lips. Peter had been so confident: the family would not be here tonight. They would be driving to the city, to Queens. Peter had no idea how he’d known any of that. He still didn't. But something about this date had just felt right, and after a quick check, his commander had allowed the slight change in schedule. And now here Peter was, sneaking up on an empty house. On the night of August tenth.

Peter reached the garage at last. He flattened himself against the wall, waiting, and when he heard nothing except the chirping crickets, he broke the lock on the door with his bare hands and stepped inside.

Hacking into the computers was easy. Soon Peter had started the transfer to a hard drive concealed in his suit, and he chanced a closer look around the room while the files loaded.

The place smelled like motor oil. There were a couple of sleek metal cylinders against the wall that could hold a grown human each, but besides that it was all worn benches, scattered electronic components, and half-finished projects. Well lived in, comfortable, familiar.

Peter startled. Familiar? He’d never been here before.

A small robot like a claw—no, two of them—three—stirred to life in a corner, whirring and snapping their claws at Peter. His senses gave him no trouble over the little guys, though, and Peter dismissed them as harmless. Besides, he doubted they could set off any kind of alarm at him. Then looking up from the robots, Peter’s eye caught on a plushie lying on a shelf—probably another of the girl’s. This one was red and gold, and Peter immediately recognized it as an Iron Man toy.

Huh. Iron Man. Peter’s team had told him this garage was another Avengers-related target, like the Compound, but they hadn’t specified much beyond that. Was Peter hacking into Iron Man’s systems right now? He smirked. That was pretty cool.

Hey, you wanna hear a thought I just had? Iron Man’s retired, right?

Peter blinked, and involuntarily took a step back. What was that? He couldn’t be having nightmares while he’s awake… could he? Crap, this place was messing with his senses. Peter disconnected his hard drive the second the transfer was complete, and turned to go.

Peter froze at the door. He could have sworn he’d taken out that lock just minutes ago. But now, even applying his full strength at the handle, the door wouldn’t budge.

Then a hissing sound came from the other side of the room. Peter spun back around, fists clenched in preparation for a fight. One of the metal cylinders slid open, an Iron Man suit glided out—but it was a female voice that spoke from it.

“Good evening, Peter,” it—she—said softly. “Leaving so soon?”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted around the room—no escape except the door—he could rip it from its hinges if that’s what it came to, but he needed a distraction. Peter decided to entertain the suit for a while. “You’re the AI security guard,” he deduced. “Though not the same one I disabled back at the Compound. Driving this suit—you’re much more complex, aren’t you?”

“That’s correct,” the suit replied. “Compound security tried to keep you out. But that’s not my objective tonight… Spider-Man."

Spider-Man. Peter clenched his fists a little tighter and backed up against the wall. Spider-Man. War Machine had called him that, too, back at the warehouse. But it didn’t make sense.

Peter knew Spider-Man. He knew the Avengers, Spider-Man was one of them, and they were the target, they were his team’s—they were his target. What kind of game was this robot lady playing?

Robot lady powered down the suit and landed a few feet away from Peter. “Boss was right about the reaction that might elicit.”

"Boss," Peter muttered. He found a headache starting to grow at the AI's words, and his heart pumped faster, but curiosity won out. "Your boss, you mean Iron Man?"

"Tony Stark, yes. You could call us a team." The suit stepped closer, one arm outstretched. "You were part of that team, Peter."

Team. His team— "Stop right there," Peter hissed, thrusting a hand out. "Alright, look. You—you can unlock the door, right now, or I can bust it open. I bet your boss wouldn’t like that, huh? Your call, FRIDAY."

The suit lowered its arms. "You remember my name."

Remember my—

"No!" Peter growled. His headache was raging now. The ambient cricket noises from outside pounded like drums in his ears. "No—"

Remember my name.

"Peter Parker. Peter Parker.” He clung to the words like a lifeline.

They tried to wring it from him, they really did. Tried to beat, shock, drown it out. But Peter held tight.

He remembered his name.

“—member your name. What else do you remember, Peter?” the AI prompted in that same gentle voice that didn’t make sense.

Peter brought fists up to press against his temples. Not another nightmare, not a waking one, not now. He took a breath. “Okay.” Peter swallowed. “Okay, this was your call.” He leapt up. And tackled the suit to the ground.

“Word to the wise, Pete: when fighting a super-powered robot, go for the core.”

Arc reactor technology, in the center of the chest, powered all Iron Man suits. Peter went for it.

He smashed the metal inward—surely that would cause some kind of damage—and FRIDAY grabbed at his arm. Peter felt the sting of the needle that penetrated even his stealth suit.

“That’s only to get you to sleep. Peter, calm—”

Peter struck the head. Arm. Chest again, in quick succession. Then the original hit to the reactor must have taken its effect, because the suit loosened its grip, and Peter broke free.

“Use your strengths, kid. The bot’s intuition is artificial, yours isn’t.”

We webbed FRIDAY down before she could recover. Then Peter lunged at the door. It took a few good kicks for it to fly free of its hinges, but then Peter was free, leaping out into the night air.

FRIDAY caught him mid-jump.

“We stocked your web-removing formula—”

Another punch to the chestpiece. As FRIDAY carried him upwards, Peter curled into a ball and fell, rolling on the grass. FRIDAY turned back and hovered over him.

“Peter,” she pleaded. “The drug will take full effect in seconds. Please. Don’t get yourself hurt.”

Peter shot another web. Whatever FRIDAY said about web removers, it would surely take some time with all that sticky material criss crossing its arms and legs. He sprinted toward the lake.

“Water. Last resort. It’s all electronics, after all—”

“Didn’t you make your own suits waterproof?” Peter said.

Peter halted.

He was at the edge of the pier, staring at the dark waters below. A wide-eyed, panting, shaking reflection stared back.

“Yeah, well, nothing’s indestructible, so listen up. If you’re going on this mission, I need you going prepared—”

That voice. His voice. His own heartbeat, drumming in his ears. That voice. Repulsors starting up behind him. That voice.

For the first time that night, Peter closed his eyes, and he didn’t run from the nightmares, from his thoughts.

He listened.

“I’m listening! I’m listening.” Peter grinned, perched on the edge of the table. “Need the good robot’s expertise if I’m gonna go fight evil robots.”

An orange hit his head. Peter laughed.

“Don’t call me a robot.” That voice.

“Peter?” That voice.

Peter turned. The suit stood at the other end of the pier, webs hanging from its arms and legs like white strings waving in the breeze. The suit’s glowing eyes stared at him intently, but when it spoke it wasn’t with the AI’s female voice anymore. It was with the voice from Peter’s head.

“Pete—” a man’s voice choked out. “I’m sorry, I should have—seen FRIDAY’s call sooner, I—damn it.” The suit began to walk toward him. Peter tensed as it got closer, and the man must have noticed, because he stopped a few feet away and put his hands up. “Peter.” He sounded tired. He sounded gentle. “You—when you were fighting, FRIDAY injected you with something, it’s just to get you to sleep, but your metabolism’s fighting it. I—I know you don’t remember me. You don’t know me, but—I’m not going to let you go. So, could you stop fighting, ‘cause you’re only going to get hurt.” The suit lowered its arms. “Please.”

Peter didn’t move. He just stood and stared. For a long, long time.

Then he stepped forward. Another step, and—

“Stop fighting. You’re only going to get hurt.”

They wrestled him onto the table. Peter fought. Peter screamed.

He fell into the suit’s arms.

“Peter?” a metal hand patted his back tentatively. “Buddy?”

Peter screamed, and the current only coursed more painfully through his brain. Peter screamed, and no one answered.

“T-Tony?”

“Peter,” the man answered. Even through the suit’s speakers Peter heard the man’s breath catch in his throat. “God, are you—”

“Tony Stark?” Peter frowned. He pulled himself back on his feet, the suit’s arms still around his. “Tony Stark. Iron Man?”

“I—yes,” Tony said haltingly. “Do you re—”

Peter rushed forward and caught the suit in an embrace.

Iron Man.

Iron Man, the voice in his head. The metal arms wrapped loosely, hesitantly around him. Peter, on the other hand, gripped the back of the suit with all his might.

The voice in his head, nightmares. Nightmares, pain. Peter swayed towards the edge of the pier, taking the suit with him.

Pain, punishment. Complete missions, avoid punishment. Peter’s thoughts clicked together, not neatly, like a solved puzzle, but harshly, like a lock on a cell door.

Iron Man, Avenger.

The Avengers, his mission.

Iron Man, his target.

Peter leapt off the side of the pier, taking the suit with him.

“Water. Last resort—”

The suit was already damaged. The arc reactor caved inwards. The suit let go of Peter in the water.

And Peter sank, down, down. It was so cold.

“FRIDAY injected you with something, it’s just to get you to sleep—”

The suit sank with him, its lights flickering out. Then Peter saw other lights shine above the water. He smiled. Lights were pretty.

“You don’t know me, but—I’m not going to let you go.”

Peter felt the splash rather than heard it. A metal hand found his, and Peter was pulled up.

Peter gasped as he broke the surface, sucking in air. A suit was carrying him, and it landed on the shore and lay him on the ground. Another suit, a purple suit. He’d barely registered that fact when Peter’s eyelids closed of their own accord. He sank into the darkness.

“Peter?” came a woman’s voice.

Zap, came the electricity.

And Peter slept.

-----

Peter woke up in the dark. He was lying on his back on a hard surface. The remains of a headache was still throbbing between his ears, when the lights suddenly came on, and Peter recoiled painfully.

“So you’re finally awake.” Peter turned his head slowly towards the source of the voice. He forced his eyes to pry open.

His commander stood over him, glowering. Another two members of Hydra—of Peter’s team—stood behind the man.

Peter couldn’t explain the sinking despair in his stomach at the sight of them, where there should have been relief instead.

“Welcome back, Peter Parker.” The commander leaned over the table, over Peter. “Mission report."

-----

It was cold, so cold.

Peter lay stripped to his shirt and boxers, but the cold of the lake still seeped into his skin. And he had to give his report that way, arms stiff at his sides inside their metal restraints, his voice still shivering.

He told them about the operation. He told them about the hard drive, and the data, and the mission’s success—

The commander scowled at that word. Peter shuddered and moved on.

He told them about the AI. And about the suit, and Tony Stark remotely taking control. He told them how he wrecked one Iron Man suit and got rescued by another. And then he stopped, shut his mouth like a good soldier, shivering.

It was so cold.

“Both suits were remotely operated,” the commander spoke after a long silence. “We had to destroy the second by electrocution. When we rescued you. By jet.”

Peter braced himself before asking, “What about the house?”

“And why is that your primary concern?” the man snarled. “Good old Captain America arrived just as we loaded you on the jet, so the damn house is safe, soldier. We are not!”

Peter swallowed. “I’m sorry, sir.”

A fist slammed on the table. “Do you have any idea! Any… your missions call for stealth.” A hand grabbed Peter’s chin, forcing his face to the side. “I thought that was made clear. Ten times. A hundred times. That is why we send you.”

Peter swallowed again, but this time it caught in his throat. “Yes, sir,” he croaked meekly.

“You have one assignment left. Until then, think on how to avoid your ever-increasing mistakes.”

The hand released him, and Peter stretched his jaw. The men had just reached the door when Peter remembered to call out, “Wait!”

His commander walked straight out. The other two soldiers turned back instead. “What?” one asked sharply.

“I—I can’t…” Peter struggled to get out the words. “I can’t thermoregulate.”

“What?”

“Thermoregulate,” Peter rasped. “I—I don’t know why. But I’m still so… cold… please can I—” Peter tried to lift his arms. The restraints didn’t budge.

“What—what the hell? You think this was just another mistake? Like leaving the spider core microchip behind at the last base?” His teammate reached for the door. “You fucked up, kid, so you stay where you are. And be thankful we aren’t sending your brain back through the fryer. Yet.” And the door slammed shut.

-----

Peter lay shivering on the table, hour after hour. No amount of shaking made the heat flow through his body, but the room was significantly less cold than the lake, and Peter knew he wouldn’t die. Just lie shivering, hour after hour.

He knew he couldn’t bring his own temperature up, except ever so slowly. He knew that. He couldn’t explain how he knew that, though.

He couldn’t explain how he knew about a lot of things.

Like Spider-Man. And FRIDAY. And Tony Stark.

And the fact that, as he shivered in the cold, Peter’s thoughts drifted to an image of a couch in front of a fireplace. Of a thick blanket, and a woman with gentle hands and a cheeky smile that draped it over his shoulders. And the warmth of her arms when he sunk into them.

Peter held on to that thought even if he didn’t understand it; he needed all the warmth he could get. It was going to be a long night.

-----

Many miles away, another group of people were having a long night of their own.

May Parker sat glued to the holo-screens of the Compound control room. The others had drifted in and out throughout the night, sometimes keeping her company, sometimes taking care of other important matters. Sam and Rhodes had just returned from the lake house a couple of hours ago. After a while, Tony and Pepper excused themselves to the Compound living quarters, to tuck Morgan in for the night. Dr. Banner, May knew, was still awake in the lab, with Barnes working closely beside him.

It was nice knowing how the team pulled together after the night’s distressing events. But that comfort was dampened in May’s mind, knowing the contrast to Peter’s current situation. Her kid was alone, he was cold, and his spider DNA meant he couldn’t thermoregulate as well as other humans. May knew every shaky breath that her nephew took.

Because displayed on the screens in front of her, were Peter’s vitals.

“Hey,” a voice greeted, and Tony walked in, two mugs and a plate in hand. “Care for company?”

May nodded at him. “Only if you brought coffee.”

Tony handed her one of the mugs, and they sat in silence for a while, monitoring the screens.

After a few minutes Tony offered, “You can turn in, you know. I’ll take a shift.”

May clenched his jaw. “Not tonight.”

Tony nodded understandingly and took a sip from his own mug. “Pep and Morgan are sleeping, but I couldn’t. I kept thinking… anything else we could have done tonight…”

May shook her head. “You and Pepper piloted the suits as soon as you could, Tony. And this microchip, I'm thankful you had the foresight pre-programming FRIDAY to inject it in Peter’s arm along with the sedative.”

“It could be giving us more than this. I’ve been trying the whole night, May, but the tracking signal’s still being deflected. These vitals are all we can get for now.”

“More than we had yesterday. Tonight’s not a night for beating yourself up.”

Tony sighed. “I just need to clear my head.” He traced the line on the screen, tracking the slow rise and fall of Peter's heart rate. “And I don’t want him to be alone.”

May didn’t answer, only gazed at the monitored vitals—such impersonal graphs, and yet the only connection they had to Peter now.

After another long pause, Tony held out the plate he’d brought in, and May noticed for the first time what it contained: a few slices of cake, the remains of their interrupted party in May’s apartment earlier this evening.

Tony handed her a fork. “Happy birthday, Peter,” he said sadly.

May sighed as she reached for the plate. “Happy birthday, Peter.”

----- Chapter 3: The Tower -----

There are moments in life that change a person, even if they don’t realize it until later. That night at the lake house changed Peter Parker. He knew, even before they marched him into the debriefing room for further questioning, he was no longer fit for his team.

Peter had slept fitfully that cold night, but in what snatches of sleep he had been able to grab, he dreamt of that woman by the fireplace. Peter woke up fully convinced he had been dreaming of his mother.

And when he couldn’t sleep, he thought of the man from his flashbacks—nightmares—whatever they were. The man who gave him advice on how to fight killer robots. Who sent a suit to save him from drowning. Tony Stark, the Avenger, the enemy.

That was all Peter knew for sure: the enemy, the mission, the team, Hydra. Nothing beyond that. For the first time, Peter asked himself why.

Why he had nightmares of being held down on a table, electricity coursing through his body, screaming. Why those thoughts always left him shaking, when the echoes of Tony Stark’s voice in his head did not. Why the War Machine at the warehouse, and the suits at the lake, took more care with him than his team ever did.

Peter must have had a life before this. Before missions. Before electrocution sessions and cold nights lying alone. Before Hydra.

And that night, Peter knew he had to leave.

-----

He held on to that resolve all throughout the questioning.

"Last night you said the suit stopped you at the pier. But you had a considerable head start. Why were you not able to get away?"

"The sedative had kicked in by then, sir," Peter lied.

"But you told us the drug's effects only started to take hold as you were drowning."

"I misremembered, sir," Peter lied.

On and on it went. Peter dodged, and maneuvered, and hoped it was enough to keep him from punishment. Or worse, from being reprogrammed, and having to start clawing his way back up all over again.

Just when he thought the interview was over, Peter's commander took a small black spider emblem out of his pocket. "Do you know what this is, Parker?"

"A hidden microchip, sir." Peter gulped. "I made the mistake of forgetting it at the old base. I was punished."

"This microchip came from a suit," the other man continued, circling around Peter. "A very expensive piece of Stark tech. With very impressive capabilities. You are helping us rebuild the software to control it, and many others like it. That was your mission."

"Yes, sir."

Peter caught the exact moment when his commander's eyes darkened. "You lost sight of your mission, soldier."

Without warning, the man slapped the metal spider on the back of Peter's head. The legs extended, wrapping around the sides of Peter's face, and he shouted in pain as a burst of electricity shot out of them. Peter fell to his knees.

His commander continued circling him like a hawk, unbothered. "You need to be reminded."

-----

Bucky and Bruce ran into the control room where Tony was waiting. The holo-screens with Peter's vitals displayed irregular peaks in his brain activity, the implications of which the three men knew very well.

"How long has this—"

"Ten minutes," Tony answered quickly. "Not stopping."

Bucky stared closely at the graphs. "Doesn't seem to be a high voltage."

"Bursts of current, too, not steady," Bruce added.

Tony braced himself to ask. "So this isn't reprogramming?"

"It looks closer to—to torture, Tony," Bruce replied.

Suddenly Bucky turned to the other two men. "That's good," he realized. Tony stared daggers at him, and Bucky put up a hand. "Hydra doesn't double back. They wouldn't be doing this if they could simply wipe Peter's memories instead."

"So they torture him for what? For punishment?"

"It's severely affecting his brain, Tony," Bruce said in a neutral voice, eyes still locked on the screens. "There are other ways to punish a guy. No, this is a calculated move."

"When brainwashing doesn't work… There are other ways to make people do what you want," Bucky said darkly.

"That's the second time you said—brainwashing not working, not wiping Peter's memories," Tony said, deep in thought. His head snapped up when he realized the answer to his own question. "Because it takes too long."

"I think so, too. This—this is a desperate move," Bruce said. "They still need Peter, but they also need to strike soon. I mean, we're closing in on them from all angles, Rhodey's still hounding their decryption signal, Sam got some good shots at their jet last night."

"My best guess?" Bucky pointed at the screens. "Mind control. The brute kind."

Tony clenched his shaking fists. “How do we combat the brute kind?”

Bucky took a breath before responding, “Head-on.”

The three men fell quiet, watching each other, watching the screens. Tony could almost imagine Peter’s screams with every peak of the tracker. And yet in this room it was eerily, almost completely silent.

Finally it ended. Peter’s neural readings returned to normal. Everyone took a collective breath.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Where do we start? We have a good guess where they’re hitting next.”

Tony exhaled as he stood up. His mind was in a whirlwind, save one grounding point, one last hope, and he let that thought steady his feet. “Keep an eye on the kid for me. There’s something I need to do.” And he strode out of the room.

-----

“Keep an eye on the kid.” The quinjet door shut, and they were off.

Peter sat clad in his usual black suit and mask. Beside him, three of his teammates checked and double-checked everyone’s parachutes. For the first time on a mission, Peter was not going alone. Because for the first time on a mission, Hydra no longer trusted him.

They had good reason not to.

The metal spider was still attached to the back of Peter’s head, under his mask. How his teammates reacted to the new implement was fairly revealing. Gone were the intimidation tactics, the threats, the constant reminders of his past mistakes. Now the Hydra agents ordered him about without even pretending he was anything more than an expendable asset, with no choice but to obey.

They had good reason to.

“Two minutes from the drop zone. Get up, kid.”

And it was “kid” now, not “soldier.” Peter delayed one second before standing up.

Zap.

The electrocution from the spider emblem wasn’t strong enough to incapacitate him, but hell did it hurt. Peter stumbled and barely caught himself from falling to his knees.

“Fuck, commander,” the agent spoke into his comms. “It was only a second.”

“Just a little reminder.” Peter heard the voice in his earpiece, too. “But he won’t be needing much reminders once the mission starts. Will you, Parker?”

“No, sir.” Peter grit his teeth.

Zap, came a second shock. Then a third, fourth, fifth, in quick succession.

“A primitive solution. But fast. And effective.”

Peter was on his hands and knees in the interrogation room, the commander circling him like he was prey.

“You will not disobey. You will not even think of disobeying.”

Another wave, stronger this time, and Peter screamed on the floor.

“What is best is you comply.”

Peter shut his eyes at the memory, at the pain. “I’m fully compliant, sir.”

Ten seconds into the drop zone, they jumped. Peter gaped at the twinkling lights of New York City only for a moment, then focused his mind on the task at hand. Namely, not dying. Using his senses, Peter adjusted his course and that of the three Hydra agents with him, avoiding the overhead sensors that only he could detect. Soon they all landed smoothly on the rooftop of their target skyscraper.

“First phase, good,” his teamma— one of the Hydra agents, said. “Now the security, kid.”

Peter had a hunch for this, knowing just where to strike, what codes to input into his tablet to disable security. Almost as if he were intimately acquainted with the source program itself. It was how he had snuck into the Compound on that first mission. However—Peter stared at the red alert on the tablet screen—this wasn’t the same as the Compound.

“What the hell?” another agent looked at the error message on the tablet over Peter’s shoulder.

“It—I—this must be the other program,” Peter stammered. “The one from the lake house. I can’t get in.” Peter braced himself, but no electric shock came from the spider-metal on the back of his head. So the commander knew he wasn’t lying.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the on-screen alert disappeared. “Security disabled” flashed on Peter’s tablet.

“There you go. What did you do?”

“I—nothing,” Peter answered truthfully. Something pricked at his senses. A feeling of being watched, and not just by the man controlling an electrocution machine on Peter’s head. Strangely enough, that feeling of someone else watching him gave Peter a sense of assurance more than danger. But he fought those thoughts down and took a deep breath. “Alright, we’re clear. Let’s go.”

The cold night air blew around them as they made their way across the rooftop. Peter typed in some more commands, unlocked a door, and in no time at all, the four Hydra agents had breached the Avengers Tower.

-----

Something was wrong.

Peter led the team through dark halls, weapons at the ready, but they encountered no one in the whole building. Just like they’d encountered no one on the ride down the elevator. And saw no one in any of the multiple rooms they passed.

Something was wrong.

“I see your heart rate picking up,” the commander’s voice said in Peter’s ear. “Even from my comfortable seat, this is all starting to look uncomfortably like a trap. If you had any part in this…”

Peter didn’t. He could swear he didn’t, but he kept silent, continuing to lead the agents down the hall, and bracing for another burst of pain to his skull. The commander never set off the device, though, and Peter breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Until they reached the building’s main control room. Peter unlocked the door. One man stayed posted outside as a lookout, and Peter and the two other agents entered.

At first the room seemed like the rest of the Tower, empty, dark. But that was just the problem. Too empty. Too dark.

“Something’s wrong,” barely registered in Peter’s mind, when the attack began.

The bullets came from out of nowhere, shooting straight for the three other Hydra agents, and electro-shocking them to unconsciousness. The lookout recovered quickly and made to enter the room, when the door automatically shut in his face. Then, for good measure, another round of shocking bullets was fired at the two agents lying on the ground. And Peter was left alone with their attacker.

At first, not knowing where the firing came from, Peter merely braced himself in the middle of the room, ready to dodge the bullets when they came. But nothing ever shot at him. Now with the other agents knocked out in the dark, Peter faced the unknown enemy, relying only on his senses. He had just located the new figure in the room, and readied his web shooters to strike back, when the lights suddenly turned on.

A high-pitched tone came on with the lights. Peter crouched on the ground, arms up to protect both his eyes and ears against the sudden onslaught. He felt all his senses torn apart, compromised. And then the unknown figure stepped in front of him.

The high-pitched sound stopped. A faint whine remained in Peter’s ears, but through it he could just make out a man’s voice speaking to him. That man’s voice. The one from the lake house, from his dreams.

“Peter?” Tony Stark repeated, holding out a metal hand.

Peter shoved it away and leapt back, getting shakily to his feet. Holding out both arms in a defensive position, Peter caught his breath, and for the first time took a good look at his assailant.

It looked like the first red suit, the one from the garage. The one Peter had destroyed in the lake. But this one was undamaged, and still holding out a hand to Peter in what was probably supposed to be a calming gesture.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” Peter panted, his chest still pounding. “New suit?”

“I have a lot of suits. One of them saved you, if you recall, right after you ditched the first one in the lake.”

Peter grit his teeth. Of course he knew one of the suits—of course he knew Tony Stark, and the woman driving the purple suit, had saved his life that night. But things had changed. He couldn’t afford to think about it, to think about that fateful night at all, not with an electric killing machine stuck to the back of his brain.

“Look, man. I’m getting what I came for, and you can’t stop me any more than you could last time. Just throw in the towel and walk away now.” Peter’s voice shook.

“Tonight’s not gonna be like last time,” Tony replied determinedly.

“Walk. Away. Or I’ll wreck this suit, too, just like last time—”

“Tonight’s not gonna be like last time,” Tony repeated louder. And then he did something Peter never expected.

The suit retracted. Nano-tech particles moved in waves, draining like water in a sink towards the reactor casing in the middle of the suit. Until the only thing left standing in front of Peter, was not a metal suit, but a person.

“Peter Parker,” Tony said, taking a step forward, “tonight we’re taking you home.”

-----

Peter froze. The night he spent dreaming of the woman by the fireplace raced through his mind. Yet now, being offered the exact thing he had wanted then, Peter had no idea how to respond.

“Take me home? I want to, but there’s a killing machine on my head.”

“I want to, but there’s a Hydra jet nearby that could attack any second.”

“I want to, if I knew where home was.”

“I want to.”

“I want to, but...”

Peter’s lips seemed to move of their own accord. “I can’t,” he said in a small voice.

Tony’s eyes widened at Peter’s change in demeanor. He took another step closer. “You… okay. Okay, you know that high tone earlier? Messed up your comms. Hydra can’t hear us, at least for the moment. Peter… let me help.”

Peter ripped off his mask, and threw it to the floor between him and Tony. His hands shook, his lips shook. “He’ll kill me!” He turned his head, showing off the metal device stuck to the back. “If either of us tries anything, he’ll kill me.”

Tony took one good look at it and cursed. Then he stopped, as if listening to something on his own comms.

“I’m supposed to kill you,” Peter said. Tony’s head snapped up. “Those were my orders, if—if anyone interfered. And he can make me do it, too—”

“Kid—”

“He can make me do anything, I know, he tested it out—”

“Calm down, we’ll think of something—”

“I take you down, or my damn brain is toast!”

“You’re not dying!” Tony clenched his jaw, hand still outstretched towards Peter. “Not tonight, not on my watch.”

Peter shook his head. The familiar ache was starting to build again, the humming between his ears. “I don’t feel so good,” he choked out.

Tony froze. And then the older man must have said something in response—his lips were moving—but suddenly all Peter could hear, all he could focus on, was the commander’s voice in his ear.

“You know what to do, soldier.” The threat in his tone was clear.

“I’m sorry,” Peter rasped. And then he lunged forward.

-----

It was never a fair fight.

Tony summoned his suit back, but not before Peter got a couple of good hits in him. Knocked down on the floor, he saw his own electroshock bullets hurtling towards him from Peter’s gun, and Tony rolled away with milliseconds to spare. God, retirement had taken its toll.

“Peter…” Tony groaned, getting up on his knees. He was met with a kick to the chest.

“Tony?” Bruce’s voice echoed in his helmet. “Tony, you need to get close enough to—”

“Yeah, I know, I’m trying!” He rolled again, and the chair Peter swung crashed into the floor where Tony had just been.

It was never a fair fight.

Tony flew up and around Peter. “FRIDAY, lights out!” As darkness fell, Tony approached from behind, his targeting locked on to the device behind Peter’s head, it was within his sight—

Peter turned and fired a shocking bullet straight at him.

As Tony fell to the floor, shaking with the electricity, he realized just how close Peter had come to killing him, if he had really tried. But the electroshock bullets—a few kicks—a damn chair—Peter wasn’t really trying, was he?

It was never a fair fight.

“No,” Tony heard Peter say, as the kid stepped closer to his prone form. “No, look, Stark’s out, I swear that shock was strong enough, I—”

And then it happened. Through his HUD, Tony saw the sudden heat signature that exploded behind Peter’s head, the electronic signal, the way the kid’s body convulsed. Peter fell to his knees.

“No!” Tony screamed. Peter turned, his eyes met Tony’s—and for the first time Tony saw all the fear behind them.

It was never a fair fight. Tony was battling Peter. But Peter had to fight both the Avenger and Hydra.

Slowly, Tony got up. And he did the only thing he could think of to help his kid. He leaped forward and tackled Peter to the ground.

Peter rolled with the hit, pinning Tony under him—he’d really forgotten how strong the kid was—and Peter sent punch after punch flying. Never to the head, though—even Tony realized that. But as their fight continued, as Tony got pummeled, the shocks to Peter’s brain stopped. And for now that was all Tony wanted.

“Sam, how’s it going on your end?” Tony hissed.

“Almost there, keep him busy!” Sam replied through the comms.

Another solid hit to his suit. “Sure as hell trying to!” Needing a break, Tony turned his thrusters on and slid off from under Peter, hovering some way above the floor. Tony heard the whoosh of web shooters and he narrowly dodged Peter slamming into him mid-air.

“Hey! Flying is cheating!” Peter hollered as he passed. Tony recognized it for what it was, though—a call to keep Tony aware of Peter’s location in the darkness.

Tony wondered, not for the first time since that night at the lake house, how much of the old Peter was starting to come back. And whether it would take sooner than anticipated to restore the rest of him.

Assuming they could Peter through the night at all.

Keep the kid safe now, worry about the memories later, Tony chided himself. He turned the lights of his suit on, a beacon for Peter to spot. “Just trying to keep the fight fair!” Tony called out, and he braced himself for impact.

-----

“Rhodey! Your 3 o’clock—”

“I see him,” Rhodey said through the comms. “Coming in hot.”

Sam locked the quinjet on his targeting system and increased speed. “Approaching from the back end.”

“Good. Let’s get this son of a bitch, Cap.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll race ya.”

-----

Tony dodged yet another of Peter’s swinging kicks. “Sam! Update?”

“They’re almost at the jet, Tony!” Bucky answered for him. “The rest of us are preparing to storm the base. When we get the commander, and Sam and Rhodey get the quinjet, it’s over. Just you and the kid now, Stark, hang on.”

Peter swung again; Tony decided to let this one hit. They’d been playing this cat-and-mouse game for a while now, with fewer and fewer shocks coming to the device on Peter’s head. Tony could only hope Hydra would buy the facade to the end.

“You hear that, Pete?” Tony whispered to himself. “Just hang on.”

-----

Hydra held out to the end. But the Winter Soldier, and the team of Avengers he led, captured the base eventually. Bucky stormed into their control room and pinned the commander to the wall without slowing a step.

“Kill switch!” he demanded. Too late; the commander popped a pill, and died foaming from the mouth.

“It’s gotta be here…” Bruce scoured the panels and screens. “Tony said he had a finger on Peter’s button the whole time, it’s gotta be here!”

Then the screens blazed red. An alarm blared throughout the captured base.

And up on the main screen, the countdown started.

-----

“Wilson! Rhodey!” the urgent call came through their earpieces.

“Bruce, we got the jet!” Rhodey replied. “Crew’s secure, we’re flying back—”

“No, abort!” Bruce shouted. “They tripped self-destruct on all assets! We’re evacuating the base, crash the plane in the water and get out of there!”

Rhodey and Sam made to clear the plane they’d just taken over, when Rhodey suddenly realized something. “Wait, all assets?” he said into the comms. “Self-destructing all assets?”

“Everything’s set to blow!”

Rhodey stopped dead in his tracks. “What about Peter?”

-----

“Peter!” Tony yelled.

They had just been exchanging half-hearted blows, when the kid suddenly crumpled to the floor, clutching his head. FRIDAY immediately turned the lights back on and Tony rushed to Peter’s side.

“FRIDAY, talk to me!”

“It’s a different signal, Boss,” FRIDAY replied quickly. “Current’s going steady!”

Peter curled into a fetal position, a scream ripped from his throat.

“Cap!” Tony shouted.

“Tony! Barnes deactivated Peter’s manual kill switch. But we got another problem, the device has a self-destruct too, and it’s been tripped! You’ve got three minutes to—”

Tony tuned the rest out. As Peter continued writhing on the floor, Tony knelt and placed one suited hand behind the device on Peter’s head.

“It’s locked tight!” FRIDAY reported. “You can’t get it off in time without damaging the neural links.”

“Or setting the bomb off early,” Tony bit out. Below him, Peter screamed.

Tony stared at the electrocution device. That black metal torturing his kid, cruelly and ironically shaped like a spider itself. Tony stared. Shaped like a spider.

“FRIDAY…?”

“Yes,” FRIDAY answered like she’d read his mind. “It’s from the suit he was wearing when he was captured, modified, of course.”

The answer fell neatly in place in Tony’s mind. “Then it’s a good thing I brought backup.” He held his hand out, and a smooth metal disk flew at him from where Tony had stashed it in the room.

“Tones!” Rhodey’s voice. “Two minutes!”

Tony leaned over Peter’s still twitching body. “Peter, look at me. Look at me, kid. I need you to trust me.” Peter looked up, fear and tears and pain in his eyes. “Trust me,” Tony repeated, laying the metal disk on Peter’s chest. The kid didn’t fight him, and almost imperceptibly, Peter nodded.

Tony activated the disk.

-----

Peter’s head felt on fire. Peter’s chest felt cold.

In his head, the current ripped through everything, memories and feelings and pain. On his chest, the metal disk spread out, crawling like ants but cool on his burning skin.

His head felt like it would burst. The spreading metal on his chest held him together.

Until the cool metal wasn’t only on Peter’s chest anymore—until it was all over him, covering his body. Covering the electrocutor on his head.

Fire fought cold, and Peter screamed.

He heard Tony shouting. He heard the ticking of a countdown clock on the back of his head.

He heard the click.

And Peter passed out.

-----

Peter passed out in Tony’s arms. Tony cradled the body close to his chest, listening for his breathing, feeling for the pulse that would tell him whether his world had just fallen apart in his arms.

“Boss,” FRIDAY’s voice came an eternity later, “vitals holding steady.”

Tony exhaled the weight of a planet off his lungs, and lay his head down on top of Peter’s. “I got you, kid.” Breathing in, out. The nanotech Spider-Man suit deactivated, and as the helmet retracted, the electrocution device dropped cleanly from Peter’s head. Tony held his kid closer. “I got you.”

----- Chapter 4: Home -----

The Compound was peaceful in the mornings.

Early sunlight filtered in through the windows, the gold just hitting the green of the treetops. And it was quiet. Where the screens and beeping vitals monitors had felt like intruders in the night, in the morning their presence was subdued, making it easier to hear the bedridden person being monitored when he began to stir.

The moment her nephew opened his eyes, May was right by his side.

He struggled for words, she couldn’t come up with anything to say, so between the two of them it was silent for a while. Finally Peter spoke. “You’re… you’re the woman from my dreams.” Peter furrowed his brow. “I want to say… Mom… but somehow it doesn’t fit.”

May took his hand. “I’m your Aunt May, Peter. It’s… it’s good to have you back.”

“I don’t know—I don’t know if I’m back. I still…” Peter shut his eyes. “The dreams and nightmares… and the memories… they come in pieces. I—I don’t know my whole life yet. Or even… who I am.”

“We’ll help you. The whole team will help you.” May smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Peter’s forehead. “To start—your name is Peter Parker. And you’re my kid.”

The two of them spent the whole morning together. The Compound was peaceful in the mornings.

-----

Peter pieced it together, slowly.

His aunt was named May Parker. The man monitoring his recovery from the incident at the Tower, was Bruce. And the other frequent visitor to Peter’s room was already familiar. The person who saved his life, who his aunt bantered easily with, and who always brought them both some kind of hot beverage, that was Tony Stark.

It was Tony who sat with May at Peter’s bedside, filling in the gaps. Tony who explained the kidnapping, the brainwashing, their search. Tony who always reminded Peter to take his recovery easy, and always looked at him with such warmth.

There were others on the team, too. The first time Peter was able to leave the medbay, a man introducing himself as Sam led him to the shared living quarters. Another guy, Rhodey, dropped beside him on the couch and passed him some pizza, and Peter recognized his voice from the fight at the warehouse. They ended up having a good laugh about it.

He met Pepper. And Morgan. Even got reacquainted with FRIDAY.

And Bucky Barnes. Though usually quiet, the man turned out to be among the most outspokenly encouraging about Peter’s recuperation. “It gets better, kid. I know the memories come back in pieces, and it can be frustrating.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, and Peter could tell the man made an effort to make his tone light. “It’s a long road. But… believe me, it gets better.”

-----

It did get better. But not all at once.

Along with memories of tinkering in the lab, came memories of being strapped to a table. Along with dreams of warm fireplaces in a cozy apartment, came nightmares of the burning electricity in Peter’s head.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was when Peter dreamed about the Tower, about beating the enemy up, except this time Peter didn’t pull his punches. And when he drew back he would be staring at Tony’s bloodied face. Or Bucky’s. Or Sam’s. Or May’s.

One night, suffocated by his own mind, Peter escaped to the Compound rooftop. A lone metal bench sat under the stars; Peter drifted towards it. He hadn’t been sitting there long when he sensed footsteps behind him, and turned to see Tony in the doorway.

“Just checking in,” the older man said. “Your aunt woke up and you weren’t there, she thought maybe you were with me in the workshop…”

Peter shuffled his feet. “Sorry. I sneaked away and didn’t want to disturb her.”

“Okay.” Tony lingered awkwardly. “It’s fine. Um. I’ll go. Do you want me to call May, or…”

Peter paused. He found he didn’t really want to call May, not right now. But he didn’t want to be alone, either.

“You always up this late?” Peter found himself asking instead.

“I guess so.” Tony shrugged. “Old habit.”

“Me too,” Peter replied. As he said it, he wondered if it was true about himself. Really, he was just saying what he thought might get Tony to stay.

Tony looked at him for a moment, tilting his head. Then, as if he’d read his mind, Tony sat down on the bench beside Peter. And for the next few hours, Tony stayed.

They sat quietly for a while, lost in their own thoughts, but it was a familiar kind of silence. One that made Peter feel safe. He plucked up the courage to speak several minutes later. “Mr. Stark?” Peter said. He didn’t know why the more formal address somehow felt more comfortable than ‘Tony,’ which was what Peter had been calling him lately. For some reason it just did. Tony turned his head, but if he noticed the change, he didn’t comment on it. “Mr. Stark,” Peter continued, “what happened back at the Tower? Really?”

Tony furrowed his brows. “We, uh, we fought, Pete. And then Hydra tripped the self-destruct on the device around your head, and…”

“Yeah, and you got it off, and then I passed out.” Peter fiddled with the zipper on his hoodie. “You told me. But how did you get it off, exactly?”

“Oh.” Tony leaned back against the bench. “I missed that part, huh.”

“Oh, I thought of another—why, why was that device shaped like a spider?”

Peter could tell Tony weighed his words carefully before answering. “It came from a suit. A specific, uh. Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Spider-Man?”

“Yeah.”

“So the thing you used to get it off…”

Tony nodded. “That was Spider-Man’s slightly older suit. Same signature, so the override worked.”

“He seems to have a lot of suits.”

“Yeah,” Tony chuckled. “Yeah, real tinkerer, that one.”

“It spread from my chest, felt like ants crawling on me.”

“That would be the nano-particles. I helped with that part, but the rest of it, all his handiwork. He’s very capable that way. Skilled guy.”

“Yeah.” Peter looked down. “Yeah, I bet. No wonder Hydra wanted him.”

Tony stiffened beside Peter. After a moment Peter felt a hand on his shoulder. “We were gonna tell you, Pete. Eventually. But doctors said to go slow on the whole memory thing and… I, I wasn’t quite sure how to break that gently, to be honest.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. Not that hard to figure out. My senses, plus the memories that name brought up…” He took a breath. “And, I mean, the Avengers. You guys are, you’re Earth’s mightiest heroes or whatever. Why… why else would you all be so hell-bent on saving me?”

“What do you—because you’re one of us,” Tony said firmly. “Not because of what you can do.”

Peter didn’t answer. After several weeks fighting for a team that only seemed to care about what Peter could do, he didn’t seem to know how to answer.

“Is—is this what this is about? What keeps you up at night?” Tony pushed. “You’re wondering why you were worthy?”

Peter fiddled with his zipper, with the hem of his hoodie, anything to keep his fingers moving. “I hacked into your databases,” Peter said in a small voice.

“We dealt with that damage, Peter.”

“I wrecked your garage, your suit—”

“Things can be replaced.”

“And I beat you up pretty good.”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony laughed. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

The laugh disarmed Peter. He turned to meet Tony’s eyes, but he found no unkindness or mockery there—only sincerity behind the outer humor. Peter couldn’t help but smile too.

“Hey, I should thank you. I don’t get much exercise in retirement,” Tony quipped.

“Semi-retirement,” Peter blurted. That made both him and Tony stop. “You’re… only semi-retired,” Peter continued uncertainly. “You, um. You’re my…” But Peter's burst of memory failed; it only ever reached so far.

“Mentor,” Tony supplied when Peter trailed off. “Occasional tech support. Substitute Guy in the Chair…”

“Old man?” Peter joked.

Tony snorted. “Disaster child. Never change.” Then Tony’s eyes softened, and he lowered his voice. “You are a part of this team, Peter. Everything we put on the line was worth it. Everything. Because it got you home.”

Peter breathed deeply, and let it out in a long sigh. Slowly, he leaned against Tony’s side, and Tony put an arm around his shoulders. Peter found he fit in Tony’s arms like a puzzle piece. Like he belonged there. Like he’d always belonged there.

“I wish I could remember more,” Peter admitted quietly, when he was good and settled in Tony’s embrace. “I wish I could remember faster. Or I wish… I’d never forgotten in the first place.”

Tony hugged him a little tighter. “We’ll be here to remind you.”

-----

They reminded him. And slowly, Peter recovered. Slowly, Peter remembered.

-----

They held a second birthday party at May’s apartment a few days later. Complete with streamers, red and blue balloons, and—

“Chocolate cake. Always chocolate cake, and you always bake it yourself,” Peter remembered.

May smiled as she kissed Peter’s temple, and handed him a slice.

-----

Peter eased slowly back into training, too.

“You wanna deflect the knife like this, and remember to—”

Peter broke Bucky off when he executed the move perfectly, ending with him pinning his sparring partner to the ground. Sam laughed and flashed a thumbs-up from the sidelines.

“I remember,” Peter realized, grinning.

-----

“Every other weekend? I used to hang out with the Tony Stark every other weekend?”

“Until stupid college got in the way,” Tony groused playfully. He handed Peter a wrench for the reinforced garage door they were installing.

“Still can’t believe I go to MIT,” Peter said as he tightened the screws.

“Yeah. When you’re ready to go back, treat Ned and Michelle to a big movie night or something, whatever you kids do for fun. They can't wait to see you again.” Tony looked up from his toolbox. “Do you remember…?” he said tentatively.

Peter nodded. He did remember, bits and pieces—laughter with a childhood friend, stolen moments with a girl he admired. All on their own, Peter’s cheeks began to blush.

Tony grinned. “Yeah. Thought you did.”

-----

There were some things, though, that were Peter’s very own. And that he had to rediscover on his own.

“How’s it feel?” Tony asked, as Peter donned the Spider-Man suit for the first time in months.

Peter tested it out: stretched his arms, fiddled with the web shooters, said hi to Karen. “It—it’s perfect, Mr. Stark,” he said when he was finished. “Thank you.”

Tony slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders and walked with him across the Tower rooftop. “Alright. This one you’ll have to figure back out on your own. But you did it before, and you’ll do it again.” Tony smiled. “Spider-Man.”

Peter perched on the edge of the roof, feeling the wind on his suit, the rush of his senses. The feeling of being back where he belonged.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man. This was his to remember. This was his to reclaim.

“Stay safe,” he heard Tony whisper, as the older man backed off from the edge.

Peter turned to him. “Tony?”

Tony looked up at him, and Peter paused to relish that short moment. For all the time they’d spent together lately, this was different. This was special. This was them, back in their old mentor-mentee groove. And it felt good.

“I, I just wanted to say—” Peter started, and he grinned. “I still think ‘official Avenger-Guardian of NYC’ should be a thing. And it definitely ranks higher than Iron Man.”

Tony’s dropped jaw, and his mock-offended face, was the last thing Peter saw as he shot a web and swung down over his city.

Spider-Man had returned.

#the friendly neighborhood exchange #friendly neighborhood exchange #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #fanfic #jelly's

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talesfromthesnogbox · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit of Love

Summary: Richie surprises Eddie by going on Celebrity Drag Race.

Word Count: 3,075

Notes: Hi this is so stupid but it was bugging me so I had to write it okay bye.

AO3 Link

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey Eddie, come down I want to show you something.”

Eddie raced down the stairs to find Richie on the couch, VH1 paused and ready for his surprise appearance.

“Celebrity Drag Race? I’ve spent the last week binging it while you’ve been ‘writing’, why do you want to watch it now?”

He hit Eddie lightly on the chest. “Shut up. I want to watch it with you!”

Richie had yet to tell any of his friends that he was going on Drag Race, and even more surprisingly, he was officially coming out to the world. Most of the Losers already knew he was gay, and he knew that Eddie kind of knew, but he hadn’t formally said anything to him about it.

The two of them sat in silence as the queens talked amongst themselves, wondering who would walk into the workroom first. Finally, Richie was revealed, and the queens went quiet.

Richie’s palms were sweaty, almost as sweaty as when he first stepped out behind that curtain in the loudest rainbow tie-dye button up shirt he could find.

“The Trashmouth has arrived.” He said onscreen, looking around at the pink… everything.

“Richie, what the fuck?” Eddie took the remote from him and paused the television. “When the fuck did you do Drag Race?”

“Surprise?” He chuckled seeing Eddie’s expression turn from angry to downright amused. “Alright, I signed an NDA, I wasn’t allowed to say anything!”

“Hi, I’m Richie, I’m 41 years old, and I’m a stand up comedian.” The scene on TV flashed back and forth from the usual flashy confessional screen and Richie exploring the workroom. He was the first one in, and he ogled the sequin gowns lining the walls, and the makeup on the counters. “I’ll be honest, I hadn’t watched the show until very recently. Last year I went back to my hometown in Derry, Maine for a little reunion with some childhood friends of mine, and went through a pretty traumatic experience. There’s this old abandoned house that all the kids used to tell ghost stories about and be scared of, and we, being the dumbass adults we are, decided to take a look around inside. It uh… it collapsed while we were inside, and my best friend Eddie actually ended up getting really badly hurt.”

The screen flashes from Richie, tearing up in his confessional, to photos of them as kids, and one they’d taken as a group when they arrived.

“That really fucked me up, I thought… I thought I was gonna lose him, and I never… yeah, it just taught me to really hold your loved ones close. He’s alright, he’s actually living with me now, and he’s the one that got me to watch the show.” Richie’s somber expression changes to one of joy as he talks about Eddie. “I’ve been doing a lot of work writing for my upcoming tour, but Eddie watches Drag Race every chance he gets. When they asked me if I wanted to go on the show, it was an automatic yes, I didn’t even have to think about it. We’d been through so much last year, so I really wanted to surprise Eddie, and I thought it would be a great way to introduce myself formally as a part of the LGBTQ community.” Richie on screen held up a little rainbow flag and waved it around. “Honestly I think the producers were hoping I’d say no. I’ve been kind of a piece of shit… no, I’ve been a huge piece of shit, my work was pretty disgusting, and I want to change that. The first step is coming out, so yes, I was overcompensating with my comedy to hide how far in the closet I was. Hi, I’m gay!”

“Surprise?”

Eddie paused the TV again and turned to look at Richie, tears in his eyes. “Dude, I’m really proud of you.” He brought his friend in close for a hug, feeling hot splashes of tears fall on his neck.

“I’m sorry I never told you.”

“It’s okay, you weren’t ready Trashmouth.”

They dried their tears as they watched Richie interact with the other two celebrity guests as they arrived in the workroom, casually chatting about work and their mutual respect for the show, when finally RuPaul Charles arrived.

“So, was he amazing in person?”

Richie laughed. “Oh my god he’s the most fabulous human being alive, seriously I have so much respect for him.”

Eddie was giddy as he asked Richie questions about Ru, the workroom, the Pit Crew.

“Honestly, the Pit Crew is amazing, if I had a body like that I too would be flaunting it in those tiny briefs.” He laughed. “But it’s so hot in there with all those lights, they’re the luckiest people on this show.”

Finally, the real queens were added into the mix. Eddie watched with rapt attention as Richie and the other two contestants fumbled their way into “quick drag”, giggling at Richie struggling with a tube of lipstick and a horrendous blonde wig. Luckily for Richie, their mini challenge was an improv challenge, and he absolutely nailed it, making Ru and the rest of the queens shed tears of laughter.

“I still can’t believe you’re on the show, and now you’re winning the mini challenge? What the fuck?”

“Yeah! I got to pair up everyone with their queens. I know you really like Nina West so…”

Eddie’s jaw dropped as Richie took his place beside his favourite queen on the show, the lovely Nina West. “Shut up!”

“She’s a real sweetheart.”

Richie had seen parts of the episode already in its early stages and knew when certain… uncomfortable… moments were coming up. He did quite a bit of crying in his confessionals, and even had Nina tearing up a bit too.

Their maxi challenge was a lipsync performance, and Eddie already knew Richie was going to kill it. All the celebrities on the show were (now) out, gay men, and the number was a love-letter to Pride, something Richie had never actually participated in.

The other celebrities were all taken aback as the queens were to hear Richie come out to them in the workroom, but quickly accepted him in with a hug. “Richie you’ll love it, it’s like one big party celebrating who you are, and celebrating acceptance.” At that, Richie on screen started to tear up, knowing he hadn’t experienced that kind of acceptance from strangers before. “Sorry, you’re all so nice, I just… I dunno, expected to be booed off the set or something. I’ve been such an asshole in my sets just to hide it.”

Richie was crying in his confessional as well. “All my life I grew up in this shitty little town where everyone was homophobic, and misogynistic. I had bullies throwing slurs at me left, right and center, and I wasn’t even out, hell I didn’t even think I did anything that would even give anyone the hint that I was gay. I used to joke about fucking my friends’ moms, one in particular, mostly to hide the way I really felt…”

Back in the workroom, the queens and other contestants were still gathered around him. “I know how shitty it felt to be called names, and to feel like your life doesn’t matter, to feel like you’re an abomination because assholes like me told you so. My parents were really loving, and still are, my mom cried and told me she loved me when I came out to her last month, but not everyone gets that kind of love. And I feel like some of my stand up routines just made people feel worse. Man I regret so much of what I’ve said on stage, it’s not me, it was all a front because of how scared I was to admit that I’m gay.”

Nina pulled Richie into a hug as he wiped his eyes. “You’ll always be loved and accepted Richie, it’s never too late to admit you fucked up and make amends.” The rest of the cast joined Nina in their hug, only making Richie cry harder. “I’m so proud to have you as my drag daughter.”

Eddie paused as the show went to commercial and turned to his friend, who was once again, misty eyed.

“Rich…”

“You have no idea how hard it was filming that.” His voice was quiet. “I was such a piece of shit, and they literally just pulled me into a hug and told me they loved me for who I was.”

Eddie laid his head on Richie’s shoulder. “We love you too, you know that right? All the losers. It doesn’t matter to us if you’re gay or if you’re straight, or whatever… we’re here Rich.”

“I know, thank you.”

“Nobody’s going to hate you for being gay.”

Richie scoffed. “Twitter may have something else to say about that. I’m pretty sure I pissed off enough people to be banished from the community.”

“Well they can fuck off. I’ll fight every one of them if I have to.” Eddie snickered and hit play again, skipping forwards through the commercials. His favourite part of the show was always when the makeover finally happened. Richie appeared on screen clean-shaven wearing contacts, a rare sight for Eddie, and ready to be made beautiful.

“Please don’t laugh, Eds.”

“Why would I—”

On screen Richie removed his shirt and replaced it with a heavily padded bra. “So I don’t know how keen you are on this, but I quite like my chest hair.”

Nina shrugged. “That’s okay, for the runway we can put you in something with a high collar so you’re covered up.”

Richie chuckled. “No… I… there’s a Canadian queen I like that is kind of advocating for the destigmatization of female body hair, and she keeps her chest… out in the open, hair and all. If you’re okay with it… I’d kinda like to do that too.”

Nina smiled back at Richie and discarded of the high-necked bodysuit she was holding. “Alright, tits out it is.”

Eddie sat silently beside Richie, his mouth going dry at the sight of Richie’s chest out in the open while Nina worked on his face. He’d been joining Eddie’s physical therapy exercises for support, and kept up with him whenever he was at the gym, so his stomach and chest were a lot more toned than they were in the summer they’d reunited. Eddie had never really noticed, even when Richie walked around shirtless, but now… now he was noticing.

He noticed the way the veins in Richie’s forearms stood out, how the muscles moved beneath his skin as he reached out to grab the makeup Nina pointed to, how they went rigid when he flexed, lifting a case that was clearly heavy.

Richie got up from beside Eddie awkwardly. “I’ll be… I’ll be right back.”

Eddie frowned at the awkward tension coming from Richie before he realized on screen it was time to ‘tuck’. He let out a giggle as he watched Nina lead Richie back behind a screen and try to walk him through the practice.

“Yeah just take it and…”

Richie winced on screen. “I don’t know man, it’s not… is that right?”

“Here, let me…” Nina stepped in, and Eddie was instantly cackling, watching Richie’s face change expressions from annoyance to shock to discomfort.

Confessional Richie winced, a pained smile painting his face as he nodded. “I publicly came out and less than 20 minutes later had a man touch my dick for the first time, and I’ve gotta tell you… was not a great feeling. Let’s hope it’s better the next time when I actually get to… you know… is it weird that I’m talking about people touching my dick on camera?” He asked a producer off-camera.

“We’ve heard worse.” The producer rebutted, making Richie snort a laugh on screen.

Eddie watched Richie walk back into the room and slide beside him on the couch again. “Yeah, I… I wasn’t a fan of that whole…” he waved his hands over his crotch area, “tucking thing.”

“It sounds horrible.” Eddie agreed.

Finally, it was time for them to be introduced on the runway. Richie was the last to walk, and by far, had the biggest transformation. “Our final queen is Rachelle Von Dixx.” Eddie paused before he could step out onto the stage and looked at his friend.

“Of ALL the drag names you could have chosen, you went with Rachelle Von Dixx?”

“What can I say, it spoke to me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat, hitting play once more. He hated to admit it, but Richie was Rachelle. Just as charismatic on the runway as Nina was, making faces at the judges, doing little spins with his arms wide to make his skirt flow around him. He looked totally comfortable up there and…

“You’re surprisingly good at walking in heels.”

Richie shrugged. “I used to wear my sister’s heels around the house for shits and giggles. They aren’t that hard to walk in.”

The challenge was over, it was time for the judges’ critiques, and Eddie was not prepared for them to critique Richie. But… they didn’t actually have anything bad to say about him.

“So I guess a congratulations and welcome to the family is in order for miss Rachelle. It’s hard to come out, and you’re doing it on TV.” Ru said after Richie’s critiques.

“Yeah, yeah thank you! It’s been an incredibly eye-opening experience, and I’m really, really grateful for it. The love and support everyone… oh god I said I wasn’t gonna cry on the main stage.” He laughed, fanning his eyes as the other queens gathered around him. “Whew, I’m okay. It’s just incredible, and I… thank you.”

“That’s beautiful Rachelle.” Ru blew him a kiss.

“So is there a special man in your life then?” Richie froze on stage as the question was hurled from the judges’ panel, but a timid smile crossed his face as warmth spread through his body. “Oh, I think that means there is!”

“No, it’s not… it’s not like that!” Richie insisted on screen, his smile giving him away. “I… I’ve known him forever and I love him, I think he was my first love, but, he doesn’t know any of this, I haven’t even come out to him yet.”

Confessional Richie looked past the camera at the producers. “Those judges man, they can like see into your soul. I’ve only ever really told like three people that I love Eddie, and two of them are my parents. Stan has been sworn to secrecy about it since we were like twelve.” Richie laughed. “Feels good though, finally saying it.” He nodded, deep in thought. “You’re gonna edit this out, right?”

Richie got up from his spot beside Eddie, who was too stunned to say anything. His hands were shaking as he walked into the kitchen, swearing.

“Rich, hey Rich, come back here.” Eddie followed him, catching him by the back of his shirt.

“Fuck man… fuck.” Richie raked his fingers through his hair, eyes darting wildly around the room. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t think they’d put that in there. I don’t know why I even said it, I… I’m sorry I embarrassed you, I never meant for this—”

“Hey, hey Rich, look at me!”

Richie turned, his eyes misting over with tears for the umpteenth time that night. He could hear his phone going off in the other room, buzzing with the excitement of the confession from his friends and family, the internet inevitably exploding with shock.

“I never meant for you to find out.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because Eds… we’ve been friends since we were like six. I don’t want to give up on all those years of friendship just because my heart can’t keep it in its pants.”

Eddie scoffed. “You think you’re the only one who feels this way? Dude, I divorced my wife then moved across the country to live with you.”

Richie shrugged. “Yeah, so? I offered my spare room to you, you had nowhere else to go.”

“Stan, Ben, and Bill all offered me their spare rooms too. Before you did. I turned them all down Rich.”

Richie was silent.

“I never said anything because I wasn’t sure… wasn’t sure where you stood, if you were seeing someone, or if you even liked men, but Rich… this is me saying something.”

Cheers could be heard from TV in the background of Richie winning the competition, and announcing the LGBTQ+ charity he’d be donating to. They tuned it all out as they each came to the realization of what the other meant to them.

Richie’s eyes widened as it finally hit him. “Oh… oh. So… so you… me?” Eddie let out a boisterous laugh. “Yes you, you idiot. I’ve wanted to say it for so long but… I’m saying it now.”

The sound that left Richie’s mouth was one of shock and disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah dude, holy shit.” Eddie took a step closer to Richie, coming into his personal bubble and staring up at him with doe eyes. “Richie?”

“Y-yeah?”

“I think this is the part where you kiss me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that night once the dust had settled, Richie and Eddie decided to stop playing by any rules or standards anyone had made for dating and go at their own pace. Richie hummed contentedly as Eddie snuggled further into his chest in his bed… their bed. He angled Eddie’s face up towards his, and pulled him into a tender kiss. The other man didn’t realize that Richie had pulled out his phone and snapped a photo of the two.

“What are you doing?”

Richie smiled and kissed the tip of Eddie’s nose. “Making it official.”

Dick Tozier @trashmouth

Guess I have to send a big THANK YOU to @NinaWest for being the best drag mother, and an even bigger THANK YOU to @RuPaul and the editing team of @RuPaulsDragRace for not listening to me when I asked if that line about being in love with my best friend could be cut out. I have you to thank for this.

Richie attached the photo he’d just taken and hit “Send Tweet” before turning off his phone. “Sorry about the chaos that’s about to ensue.”

Eddie giggled. “I don’t care, I’m just happy I finally have you.”

#reddie #Richie x Eddie #it chapter 2 fic #reddie fic #my writing

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sandraoledan · 4 years

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An Opinion Piece on Vis A Vis: A Bittersweet Goodbye

The start of a new decade marked the end of our beloved series, Vis A Vis. I can feel the 'post-series depression' already; in other words, that empty feeling at the pit of your stomach once a show has ended. In fact, I feel as if it has tripled for this series specifically, because of the three different time periods explored in the five seasons and the consequently different reactions I had to each period. Let me expound.

Seasons 1-2: What won me over initially

What really won my heart over with this show was Macarena's evolution during her time in prison. Initially, she was innocent, naïve, and defenseless, often finding herself at the mercy of Cruz del Sur's many villains; such as drug-trafficking Anabel, closeted pedophile Sandoval, and of course, the ever-scheming Zulema. A common theme was her constant need to be saved or protected; this was evident in almost all of her relationships - with her parents, her brother, and love interests Rizos & Fabio. We later find out that one of the reasons why she decided to be with Rizos was because she felt alone and afraid. Her feeble attempts at survival were frustrating; you wanted her to be stronger; you wanted her to push back against her bullies and win. You wanted to see a protagonist with confidence.

Because it took her the entirety of the first season to do this, her eventual dominion of Cruz del Sur in Season 2 was intensely satisfying. She became a better survivor: through boxing, she found a cathartic outlet and used her newfound physical prowess to overcome Annabel's thugs when they came to permanently deafen her with a wire in the bathroom. She became secure - or at least, so we thought - in her evolving identity, embracing her bisexuality as she fell more in love with Rizos. She bought Bambi from Anabel to put an end to the latter's remorseless abuse, and offered love and affection to Rizos upon discovering her rape by Valbuena; for the first time, we see Macarena as the protector instead of the protected. But this show wouldn't be emotionally complex if her character's development was so perfectly absolute: she was still reliant on Fabio, confusing her desperation to escape prison with feelings for him. Her shock at his deception, however in good faith, coupled with the news of her mother's death, witnessing the cold-blooded murder of her father, and becoming a murderer herself, triggered a spiral into darkness. It was a beautifully tragic display of the destruction of her initially strong moral compass. She turned to drugs, ended her relationship with Rizos in the most heartbreaking way, and isolated herself from the other inmates. This change in Maca was something I was excited to see play out in seasons 3 and 4; I wanted to see her redemption arc. However, due to conflicts in schedule, the actress that players her, Maggie Civantos, was only able to play Maca for a mere five episodes across the two new seasons. While the actress cannot be blamed for this, her departure led to a string of creative decisions that, in my opinion, slightly compromised the quality of Seasons 3-4.

Season 3: A decline in quality...

The first criticism stems from the time jump from Cruz del Sur to Cruz del North; there were many cliffhangers left unaddressed. Specifically, they were reactions we didn't get to see, such as Sole finding out her husband, Fernando, was murdered; the inmates finding out that Saray got pregnant, and of course, more importantly, the change in Maca after she decides (at the end of Season 2) to go back to prison instead of running away as a fugitive. The absence of these scenes automatically undermined our emotional investment in the show and created a misalignment between the reaction of the viewers and the non-reaction of the characters actually living out the story. Additionally, many key characters were so dependent on the development of Maca's story, that Civantos' departure from the show necessitated an abrupt end to their storylines (i.e. her brother Roman & prison guard and love interest Fabio), which felt contrived. Even more forced was the relationship between Rizos & Inspector Nerea: similar to Roman & Fabio, Rizos' character was so dependent on Maca that it seems like the writers felt pressured to "recreate" their romance with someone new. Not only did this spectacularly fail, as her short-lived relationship with Nerea felt rushed, disingenuous and random, but it also cheapened Rizos in the sense that she became one-dimensional, only capable of pursuing relationships recklessly and nothing more. This was confirmed implicitly by the writers, as throughout the two seasons, they struggled to give Rizos anything meaningful to do and gave her the most dissatisfactory ending of all the inmates in the finale. I found this extremely disappointing because I enjoyed her character's story arc in the first two seasons. In the same vein, enter Mercedes, who replaced Maca as one of the protagonists in Season 3. Her story and eventual demise was fruitless: she was not charismatic and did not form relationships with any of the inmates, the latter point I think being a crucial mistake on the part of the writers. So while they believed they upped the ante by giving her a brutal death, honestly, I don't think anyone cared much. We simply wanted Maca back.

Season 4: ...Redeemed by our favourite villains

While Season 3 was a far cry from the quality of the first two seasons, arguably Season 4 managed to redeem them. First and foremost, was the character development of our favourite villains, Saray and Zulema. While Zulema was the perfect villain in the first two seasons, I worried that her relentless need to escape prison made her predictable. By introducing her secret daughter, Fatima, and her estranged mother, this changed Zulema's dynamic entirely: whereas we once saw a cold and calculating criminal who would do anything and kill anyone to break free, we now saw a woman jaded by the injustices and traumas of her past. We could relate to her that much more. Watching Zulema fall to her knees, begging Sandoval to stop the rape of her daughter, was one of the most powerful scenes of the entire series, because a compromising Zulema seemed so unfathomable before. The chilling murder of Fatima was matched by an inflamed Zulema, and her passion as a mother finally eclipsing her need to escape was a well-developed, well-executed arc. We have a similar situation with Saray; with the birth of her daughter, instead of her sporadic episodes of violence, she channeled her passions into her newborn. The scene where she had to say goodbye to Estrella, as well as that scene where she showed her to Zulema as a way to make amends, were so tender, and beautifully contrasted with her previous tendencies to rage at the smallest things. This was of course helped by the gentle refrain of the soundtrack playing whenever Saray and Estrella were on screen together (as a side note, the scoring of this series was consistently excellent; the melancholic melodies foreshadowed the inevitable tragedies of the characters onscreen. Other standout examples include the melodies played during Maca and Rizos' intimate scenes, and Fatima's theme.) Additionally, the fact that it was Saray who had the courage and heart to mercy kill Sole, just emphasized the growth of her empathy and the change in her character.

One cannot mention Season 4 without bringing up the tear-jerking reunion between Rizos and Maca. Watching them stare at each other in disbelief after not seeing each other for eight months was an incredibly emotional scene. Even Civantos admitted during an interview that that scene was "the most beautiful scene in her entire career". Seeing their chemistry made me lament even more the absence of Civantos throughout the two seasons, as I would have loved to see that familiar push and pull in their relationship playing out under the different circumstances of Season 4, and particularly, a more hardened and jaded Maca. Nevertheless, this reunion scene was arguably the best that the writers could've given us as closure between the two, so I applaud them for this.

Ultimately, there were a number of dissatisfactory decisions made in Seasons 3-4, but they were still very entertaining seasons. It is important to note that the episodes were more or less twenty minutes shorter than the episodes from the first two seasons, so I can understand the limitations that placed creatively on the writers and directors on top of having to work around Civantos' departure.

Vis A Vis: El Oasis - A grave injustice

So what made Vis A Vis successful? The evolutions and relationships of the characters, both protagonist and secondary. How every character existed purposefully, with a backstory we could empathize with. The constant battle between morality and survival. El Oasis, unfortunately, failed to capitalize on its predecessor's strengths, bringing nothing new to the lives of our favourite characters. The storytelling was convoluted and often times confusing; at best, the episodes evoked feelings of dissatisfaction within the viewers. Ultimately, most fans will dismiss this spin-off as a consequence of being exposed to the deserts of El Oasis for too long: a mere hallucination.

My first criticism concerns how little actually happened over the course of the eight episodes. My reaction after every episode was the same: I'd process the story unfolding, then get shocked when the (approximately) 45 minutes would already be over. So much time would pass, and yet there was so little exposition. Each episode would leave the previous episode's questions mostly unanswered, and gave rise to even more questions. I realized quickly this was due to the unnecessary increase in supporting characters, with close to no development of backstory. For instance: how did Zulema know Ama? Ama's confrontation with Maca was so brief, and she ended up killing herself. As one of the villains, it made the build-up of her character pointless. What was the point of Flaca? She spent most of her screen time bleeding out only to be killed. You could argue it was to show that high-stakes heists inevitably have risks and collateral damage. Well, sure, but I don't think people cared much for her character because they gave us nothing to care about. Who was she to Maca but someone who occasionally chimed in on Maca's contributions to their therapy sessions? What was the point of the school bus full of kids visiting El Oasis if they were all just going to be let go so easily by Ramala's henchmen? You could argue it was to reveal Goya's past with bullying, when she intervened and beat up Eric's bullies; or it could be because Vivi needed to meet someone that felt isolated like her, to give her character more dimension. Either way, both reasons feel contrived. If something cannot be justified naturally, then it feels forced. Cepo, Goya and Triana were all interesting supporting characters, so it felt like such a waste that their characters weren't given anything interesting to do.

What also elicited questions was the very disjointed narrative: there was a constant jumping of timelines mixed in with flashbacks, so nobody ever really knew when anything was happening. Doing that without properly developing the events actually occuring at that present time had the dual effect of leaving the audience confused and made us feel emotionally detached from the plot and the characters. Most significantly: how did Maca and Zulema go from taking cute polaroids together and Zulema calling Maca her home, to them wanting to turn on each other? Instead of expounding on important plot points like these, the audience was given fillers with non-essential characters. What is the point of making a spin-off dedicated to the relationship between Zulema and Maca if their story was going to remain underdeveloped? Additionally, a fan online calculated that they only got 30 minutes out of over 360 potential minutes screen time together; that is only 8%. It is no surprise the fans were extremely disappointed.

Moreover, underdevelopment came in the form of stasis, or a state of inactivity. A majority of the season saw the protagonists waiting around the hotel, which was honestly boring. For instance, we saw a number of episodes where Goya and Triana were essentially just watchdogs over Kati, and nothing more. This was worsened by the use of dialogue. In earlier seasons of Vis A Vis, dialogue was one of the main drivers of the plot; in El Oasis, not unlike the supporting character fillers, not much what said, and when things were said, they didn't add much to the story (save for a few exceptions). It made the actors' acting seem flat, which is unfair to the actors as we saw their moments of brilliance in the earlier seasons. Additionally, a stylistic choice that pervaded El Oasis was the drawn out moments of every scene; for instance, when Zulema looked over Ama's dead body in the desert - that was given a whole five minutes of screentime. All these points hammer home the idea that while things were happening, they were 1) things that did not do much to drive a compelling plot and 2) were things the audience did not care about. It is clear the writers were trying to be different from the original series, and also tried to do too much. As the saying goes, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." Arguably, they failed on both accounts.

Finally, the finale itself warrants its own paragraph of criticism. The most glaring flaw was the way Zulema's death was executed. In the promotional videos leading up to this finale, we hear Zulema say to Maca: "igual en la vida, igual en la muerte" i.e. equal in life, and equal in death. This was an idea initially introduced by Altagracia in Season 3. Thus, Zulema dying while Maca got to live was not consistent with what they were teasing in their marketing materials. Still, one could argue that Zulema had to die because she had terminal cancer anyway, and this would be her epic redemption arc. To which I would I concede that yes, this finale could have been satisfactory and logical even with Zulema's death. However, the manner of her death was inconsistent with her character. Throughout the series, we are made to associate Zulema with a scorpion; as a "bad bug that never dies." Zulema had an intrinsic need to survive, no matter the cost. So even if she ended up dying, there was no way that Zulema wouldn't have plotted to at least attempt to survive, whether that be a scheme involving a fake death or even in her actual death scene itself where we saw her putting her guns down in submission to Ramala's henchmen. In the same vein, it did not make sense that, upon realizing Zulema was sacrificing herself for Maca and her unborn baby, that Maca replied with a simple "Gracias" and ran away. There should have been one of two options: a scuffle with Zulema, wherein she refuses to leave her there alone to die. Or two, a scene where she is speaking to her son about Zulema's legacy. The absence of these key scenes disrespects and almost overtly disregards the very complicated and rich relationship the two had together, as if all they had been through meant nothing.

Overall, the spin-off unfortunately did not do justice to the story, the characters (both lead and supporting), the actors and the fans, the latter insisting on alternate endings to get closure on a story we have been following for five years. It is true that when many shows end, it is not possible to please everyone. However, I believe that the majority of the negative reviews of this spin-off could have been avoided.

In conclusion...

Ultimately, the hollowness in my chest is bittersweet: on one hand, it is telling of how emotionally invested I became in the show and its moments of brilliance, and on the other, it speaks to the disappointment I felt with the spin-off, because I had such high expectations. Regardless of the ending, however, this show will stay with me forever. I have loved experiencing romances, struggles and adversities with these characters. I have enjoyed watching the evolution of our protagonists, whether it be through redemption or a gradual descent into darkness. This is a show I will recommend to anyone, over and over. #MareaAmarilla

#visavis #series #tvshow #spanish #spain #lockedup #review #opinion #najwa nimri #maggie civantos #alba flores #berta vazquez #itziar castro #mareaamarilla

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elizabeth-234 · 4 years

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The Supplejack

Previous Chapter Thirteen: A New Normal

Hi friends! Hope you are doing well.

Buckle in for some angst!

Chapter Fourteen: Encounters of the Third Kind

The door slammed.

Peter pressed his back into the wood. His hands clenched at his sides and over his harsh breathing he could hear May pacing from the other side. Her steps were heavy; caught up in her emotion.

“Peter?” She called through the wood. “Peter? Sweetheart, would you please talk to me?”

He peeled himself from the door and tiptoed to his bed. The springs groaned under his weight but nothing emanated from his mouth. The shrill tone in her voice, the desperation, made Peter flinched.

“You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. Two jobs? Why didn’t you tell me about the one in the city? It’s such a long way to go after school and then I get this call from Mr. Morita. Falling asleep for the fourth time this week?”

She paused for a moment and he could see her shadows from under the door. The way she would back away with hesitation but move forward again to try and talk some sense into him.

“Sweetheart, I’m here for you. If you need to talk, whatever it is about I’m here, but something has to give. I need you to work with me.”

Peter turned away from the door and pulled the covers over his head. She knocked on the door but all Peter did was huddle deeper under the covers.

Under the darkness he was a child again waking up in the hospital. This time when he rounded the corner and spotted May, instead of running toward her, he began running back to the empty room. The dark space welcomed him but once he was inside the door swung shut. He could see May’s shadow but bars sprouted along the door barring her outside.

He was alone and it was all his fault. He was the one who ran away. He created that distance.

Peter opened his eyes and breathed out when he saw May’s shadow remaining under the door. Maybe she wouldn’t give up. Maybe the others wouldn’t give up.

Mr. Stark did.

He whimpered into the pillow, breathing shallow at the voice winding through his head.

“Sweetheart, I know the school year is over and that you were looking forward to the summer. Well, to you know, but I promise it will be okay. I love you.”

He imagined her standing there with one hand spread on the door and the other on her heart, like she was trying to radiate her love through any barriers in the way.

Peter heard her sigh and walk away. The door to her room closed extinguishing the light under his door.

It wasn’t like he meant to fall asleep. One-minute Mrs. Brzozowski was lecturing about the importance of close reading and the next, the bell was ringing and the classroom was empty. Mrs. Brzozowski’s expression was enough to send him on his way. Looking back on it now he should have known she informed a higher authority about his repeat nap.

It was strange, though. At the time he couldn’t catch his breath. Alone in the hallway, the weight of his teacher’s stare lingering on his back, Peter stumbled into the restroom. The stall walls closed in against his body. But now Peter was floating.

After Oscorp his weightlessness came at a price of bloody apparitions and curled smiles. This sensation was so much better. He wasn’t anxious, or scared, or happy. Peter was just there in his room, and even then, he wasn’t sure if he was actually there anymore. Could he be if he couldn’t feel the very rise and fall of his chest?

He gasped, lungs heaving. His hands clenched in his hair. He became aware of the bed underneath him, how the springs coiled with the movement of his body. Peter opened his eyes, looked at the ceiling, and counted the perforations in the paint. Gravity, gone only moments before, raged its full influence on him. Kicking the covers off, Peter panted at the influx of sensations; the weight pressing him into the ground.

His phone buzzed and he turned over to read it. Hands shaking, he picked up the phone. Julia was worried about all the paperwork due for their presentation in two weeks. She wanted to go over their plan again.

He turned it over without a reply.

The message deserved an answer. The whole team had been more understanding than he deserved. Julia suggested he go to work at the library when they scheduled their next meeting. Frank and Monica gave each other a glance at their assumption of going to the Tower but Julia stepped forward and said he should email his work in for the project. Their questions brimmed just under the surface but his whole team agreed with ready ease.

Soon enough it would all be over and he would be free for the summer.

Peter shivered at the thought.

May’s door closed. He threw the covers back and got up. Clothes already on, Peter stuck his head into the dark hallway, grabbed his keys, and headed outside.

Blocks went by. He walked passed closed stores and restaurants, people waiting for buses, and parking lots empty of patrons.

Peter paid no attention to any of the other people walking on the sidewalk or to where he was going. All he knew was the space he’d been in before hadn’t been good. It was too far away from reality. He wasn’t Peter anymore. All he knew was he didn’t like the emptiness, not when his chest was so full of happiness and people recently.

The emptiness lingered on but if he walked faster maybe he could outrun it.

His footsteps echoed down the sidewalks. Arms flailing to catch up with his pace but he didn’t stop until his lungs burned. He braced his hands on his thighs and squatted down to catch his breath.

Light blinking on and off caught his eye. An old retail store, closed sign bright in neon, stood in front of him. The display windows were full of all different sized TVs.

The face of Tony Stark was plastered onto each one.

The man’s sunglasses were perched on the tip of his nose and with a smile he pushed them back onto his face. Mr. Stark walked head up through the media following him. They surrounded his person, pushing and yelling, but he never dropped the smile painted onto his face. It was the same expression he wore walking down the hallways of the Tower, the same one Peter had seen him use whenever he was on the news growing up.

It was that smile Peter’s heart clenched at because he knew it wasn’t real. He’d seen Tony Stark’s real happiness, the way his eyes crinkled around the edges and lips opened an inch as he sighed before he laughed. The face identical on each TV in the display was a performance and nothing else.

The only question was if his other smile was a performance as well.

Peter watched as he walked up to a clean, grey governmental-type building. Captain America came, followed by a man with grey hair and a mustache. They shook hands with Mr. Stark, positioning themselves in view of the cameras. With a wave all three, plus a line of security guards, went inside and were gone from their sight.

The ground rose up and slammed into his knees. The cameras were pointed at the gathered crowd around the building, all vying for a peak at the famous superheroes.

“Are you okay?” A woman with thick rimmed glasses stood beside him. She extended her hand forward and Peter got to his feet. He shuffled beside her watching as she searched through her bag. She muttered a small noise at finding her prize and pulled out a travel case of tissues.

“Here you go sweetie.” She said.

Peter realized he was crying and hastily pulled out a tissue, dabbing his face before blowing his nose. A flush spread across his cheeks at the noise he was creating. He shoved the soiled material into his pocket with a thank you and his eyes turned back to the screen which was playing Mr. Starks entrance again.

“That is an unhappy man.” She said. The words hung stiff and heavy on the night air. Peter examined the images again thinking about her comment.

Flashes of other press appearances or banquets played onscreen. Mr. Stark wore tuxedos and other expensive clothing Peter had never seen the man in before. His goatee was much the same with its original shape and crisp lines, but it was his eyes Peter focused on; How dark they were underneath and his posture was ridged under the harsh lights.

“Must be the camera angle.” He said and handed her back the pack of tissues.

“Now that might be, but if anyone has a reason to be upset it’s him.”

The back of his neck pricked at her statement. It was absurd. What did Tony Stark have to be upset about? The wealthiest man in New York, unhappy; and Peter could fly.

“And why is that?” His voice was sharp but she just tutted and pointed his gaze back to the screens.

“Who do you see up there?” She said like the answer wasn’t obvious.

Peter stared at the perfectly tousled brown hair and oversized sunglasses. It was a combination of all those things: the hair gel, formal outfit, and cocky smile that Peter answered without thought.

“Iron Man.”

“Ah.” She said and her smiled dropped. “That’s why.”

“He is Iron Man.” Peter said. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and the lady chuckled. She patted his arm and handed him another tissue before stepping back.

“Yes, of course he is young man, but is that all he is?”

She began walking away, leaving Peter alone and more confused than ever.

“I said no whip on this.”

The blonde standing in front of the counter muttered the complaint without looking up from his phone. Peter checked the order he’d scribbled down and realized his mistake.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Let me fix that.”

Cindy shook her head at him from the doorway. He ducked his head so that his visor would conceal the flush working its way up his neck. It wasn’t the first time tonight he’d made an order wrong and the line forming behind the counter was proof enough of his influence.

“Come on, Peter.” He mumbled under his breath.

The blonde took the fixed drink without a word and Peter raced back to the register.

“Hello and welcome to The Bitter End. What can I make you today?”  

“Hi, Peter.” A small voice said. Julia fidgeted with her jacket buttons but fixed him a smile.

“Uh, Julia?” he said.

“Do you have time to talk?”

He nodded assessing the line behind her.

“My shift ends at eleven. We can do it another time if that’s…”  

“No, I’ll wait.” She said and added “I’ll have a small hot chocolate, please.”

The rest of his shift went by even slower. Peter confused two more orders. Cindy yelled at him properly by the third and by the time he slid into the booth across from Julia he was ready to fall asleep.

“You look awful.” She said with an imperceptible smile.

“Thank you. This is a looked I call uniform chic.”

Julia giggled. He set a cup down on the table and pushed it to her side.

“You didn’t have to.” He shrugged. “Well, thank you.” She said after taking a sip of the new cup of hot chocolate.

“How are you feeling about the presentation? I know Monica will be the one giving it but it will be, you know, there. We’ve all put in the work. It should be fine but I’m worried about how professional our prototype will be since we’ve rushed through it all and then there will be the question time after the presentations. I know Monica will do fine but it’s so nerve wracking.”

He shrugged again and Julia leaned across the table. She rested her hands on his fidgeting ones on the table.

“Peter, please.” She said, eyes beseeching him. “Please, talk to us. We’re all worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Really,” He added at her raised eyebrows.

“You know Alex hates me.” Her eyes wandered away from him onto the different paintings hanging on the walls.

“I’m sure he…”

“Doesn’t? Yeah, well, he cries not only when I hold him but when I enter the room. I honestly don’t know what to do anymore. It’s gotten so bad dad will get up with Al when I walk in. Sometimes I’ll sit outside on the porch so I don’t have to make them move somewhere else.” Her hands trembled on his and he flipped his over. They clung to each other as Julia confided in him.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s lonely, Peter. I hate the feeling of having nowhere to go. I’m a stranger in my own home. I don’t remember mom much but I remember her always saying how lucky she was to adopt me. I thought I would feel the same with Alex, but instead all I feel is this guilt for pushing him away.”

It was too close and Peter swallowed.

“Don’t push him away.” Peter said. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about himself or her little brother anymore. “You push your way into his life. Feed him your homemade snacks and hold him whenever he cries. I promise he will love you. You’re sucks a good friend. I know you will be an amazing sister.”

Her cheeks flushed bright and she squeezed his hand. Plans of baby domination glinted through her eyes and the expression made him smile. He wished he could be that type of person. Someone who could waltz into another’s life like they were meant to be there. Someone who wouldn’t give up when there were obstacles barring every passage forward.

“Thank you, Peter. I won’t give up on him yet.”

Little did he know the extent to which she took his words to heart. A week of working mornings and nights, of school assignments and last-minute homework on the subway, and of after school library trips wishing he was in another building forty floors higher Peter was running on empty.

His life outside of everything was quiet. Almost too quiet. His phone now kept on after May forced him to promise to keep it on after not answering for six hours while at work, was dark most of the time. The group chat was silent and there were no more workplace visits.

He should have known it was too good to be true.

Peter trudged up the steps to his apartment. He shucked off his shoes and stopped when he heard voices from the other room. Like something out of one of his more pedantic dreams, he was met with the faces of Julia and Flash.

“Surprise.” Flash said from where he was standing in the corner, ready with a sarcastic smile.

“Why are you guys here?”

“What a warm welcome.” Flash said but stopped snickering with a look from Julia.

“Frank and Monica couldn’t make it but they stand with us spiritually.”

“And where are you standing?”  

“Please, don’t be upset but we’ve been doing some digging and wanted to present this as a united front. We didn’t want you to think we were abandoning you.”

Julia went to her backpack and pulled up a folded piece of paper. She unfolded the crisp lines and held it in front of both of them so Peter could see it in all its PowerPoint-like organized glory. On it was tapped, penciled, and highlighted events and information leading up to and including the changing of hands of his Weaver serum.

She launched into a full-scale presentation about what happened and how it came about, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes were glued to the poster board. Somehow, they’d got a hold of a picture of the rabbit. Maybe it was a generic photo, but Peter couldn’t help but think about what was on the other side of its white fur. He couldn’t help but see the blood dripping down the poster board, infecting all of their pristine bullet points.

Why couldn’t everyone forget about it?

He had his new life and they were insisting on bringing this up.

Even Flash was chiming in with bits he heard from his dad at Oscorp.

“Stop.” He whispered. They didn’t hear. They kept going.

“Stop!” He yelled and stood up. “Please, stop. I can’t deal with this right now or ever. Why can’t we forget about it? Hmm? It’s not a big deal. We’ll just leave it be okay. Mr. Stark said he knew so it’s all good. Everything is taken care of. Why are you even here? I feel like I’m in the middle of an intervention.”

They glanced at each other.

“It is, isn’t it? You think I’m some sort of freak?”

Sam Carlson’s face swam across his vision. The flush of not belonging. Mr. Stark’s back turned away.

I can’t work on the project anymore.

“Of course not.” Julia said.

“Well, I am. Can you please leave? I want to be alone.” His voice broke at the last word.

“Come on, man. Be reasonable.”

“You too, Flash.”

“We’re not leaving.” They said and remained in their spots.

Peter melted into the couch again.

“Please.” 

“Peter, what happened wasn’t normal and I think Julia’s right. We need to discuss it or something. It can’t just fade into the background.”

“You want me to discuss it? You want me to say how scared I was, how helpless I felt watching what I worked on, be used to th- that way. And Mr. Stark knew about it. He said they have an understanding with Oscorp. An understanding. And I knew it was all going to crumble anyway. Ben died and it’s the only reason I made the fucking serum in the first place. I had to make up for Ben and Mr. Stark saw that desperation, didn’t he? He must have because I can’t go there.” Peter collapsed back and balled his hands into his eye sockets. “The one safe place. It’s gone and I’m alone again.”

Julia moved as if he was a cornered animal. Her arms stretched out in front of her and she sat beside him, scooching closer when he didn’t stop her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Flash sat on his other side and placed a light hand on his knee.

His cries were muffled by a pillow and although his two friends sat on either side of him. Their warm touch quieted the anguish ripping through his chest but he’d never felt more alone.

“You’re not alone, Peter. We’re going to get through this.”

He was the wounded rabbit. Vulnerability on show for everyone and despite the serum’s promise, despite their kind words Peter kept bleeding out.

*Hugs all around*

Thank you all so much for reading! I appreciate each and every person who clicks.

Next Chapter Fifteen: He Returns

Taglist: @whatisthou @warmwithafewfrostymoments @demi-starzak

#peter parker fanfic #iron man #spiderman #angst #my writing #The supplejack #shy peter parker #insecure peter parker #marvel fanfiction #iron dad #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #tony stark

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silyabeeodess · 4 years

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Final Thoughts on Tangled: The Series

Normally, I don’t do many reviews, but since I’ve given my thoughts on points in the series before, I feel compelled to address certain things in the series in a full list. As I’ve already brought up in the past, I very much have a love-hate relationship with the show. This is because it has both exceptionally amazing and exceptionally terrible points that I can’t just shrug off--in part, because I’m starting to see them everywhere in a lot of cartoons these days, especially with Disney. Expect me to go over both positive and negative points, and I’ve give my conclusion on the series as a whole last. There will be spoilers, so if you haven’t watched it in full yet, please do so before checking out the cut below.

Characters

As far as building up a lot of the characters go, I think most of them are really well-developed. From a main character like Varian to minor figures like Captain Quaid, the creators seemed to have a good grasp of fleshing them out even when if they had a limited time to do so. It helped the world of Tangled feel expansive and real, with even many of the background characters having their own identity and personalities: We didn’t need their life stories to make them stand out in our minds and they weren’t treated like a choir group used to only fill up space, which can be an easy pitfall when they’re showcased with notable importance to the story. (Moana, I’m looking at you.)

My issues with the characters largely fall on a case-by-case basis--which will be brought up further below--but there is one general point that did wear on my nerves, and that’s with many of them having what I’d like to call “selective competence.” By this, I mean that the strengths of the characters seemed to shift depending on whatever narrative the team wanted to tell. One of the biggest examples of this is King Edmund: We’re introduced to him as a skilled fighter and fierce protector that could match up against not only the members of the Brotherhood like Adira because he trained them himself, but also while simultaneously holding his own for a time against Rapunzel and her friends--however, when he started being used for mostly comedy relief, he couldn’t even defend himself against the Stabbington Brothers who the group has already beaten multiple times over. For crying out loud, they let him know they were there! In no way do I think characters need some kind of point system to mark how strong they are--this is a story, not a tabletop RPG--but at the same time there’s needs to be better consistency and planning. For the point I mentioned with King Edmund, an easy fix would’ve been a sneak attack that knocked him out before he had the chance to react by making him so consumed with the thought of losing his son in that moment that he wasn’t as aware of his surroundings as normal. At least then there’d be an excuse! This happens repeatedly throughout the series and with multiple characters though that it’s far from a slip up.

Another general that focuses more on the girls is the power dynamic. Look, I’m all for strong women, but not at the sacrifice of things like story or characters, and the show made a bad habit of leaning into that with their selective competence. Think I’m wrong? Ok, then explain this to me: How do you have two famed criminals with a known record throughout multiple kingdoms act like bumbling idiots who constantly either cause problems for the group with typically someone like Raps, Cass, or Adira having to get them out of that situation? And if that wasn’t obvious enough, you have Adira’s little “I don’t get why they named it the Brotherhood because I’m a woman” statement that couldn’t be more on the nose.

You know what? I’m gonna go ahead and get to Adira despite her being a more minor character because I couldn’t stand her. Most of the time when she showed up, I wanted to roll my eyes into the back of my skull because the primary reason she exists is to be a “strong woman who don’t need no man,” which, to be frank, we already have in spades in this show with much better characters. She’s not impressive or a good role model for young girls: She’s an obnoxious token--and in more ways than one. For no point whatsoever, she kept disappearing and reappearing in and out of episodes throughout S2 whenever the creators decided to use her--even though the audience is well aware she’s following the group and nothing seems to be stopping her from sticking by them. They were shown fine with her travelling at their side on multiple occasions, so what was the need to have her vanish off and on when we know she’s just keeping up with them in the shadows anyhow? To top that off, she insists on being needlessly mysterious just for the sake of it despite her sharing similar goals with Raps and the group. It would’ve been one thing had she just kept the potential danger of the moonstone’s affects on Raps a secret: The best lies are told with a bit of truth and it would’ve set up the mysterious angle of her much better. Better anyway than her helping them one minute and then beating them up in the next because she “doesn’t like to be touched.” It got to the point where I didn’t care whether or not she could be trusted: I just wanted her offscreen.

Going back to something positive for a moment though, Raps and Eugene are easily the best in the series (Or at least when they’re alone together, I have notes on both....) I’m not talking about the romance between them--although that was really well done: I’m talking about how they bounced off of each other. There’s something to be said about people who are willing to grow beside each other, and that growth shines in their relationship. If one of them falters, the other is there to not only pick up the slack, but help pull the first back onto their feet. Both Raps and Eugene have their highs and lows throughout the series and they’re willing to call the other back to earth and be their support when things go too far. The power dynamic issue I mentioned earlier? I never see it with them. They’re both balanced and match to each other’s strengths/weaknesses. Neither of them is a vision of perfection, a knight in shining armor, or a damsel in distress: They’re two people who work in tandem to get through the hard times and simply enjoy the good ones together.

Since I already wrote a large post discussing Raps and Cassandra, I’m going to link to that here. For Cassandra though, I can summarize my thoughts on what they did to her character in one word: Butchered. For both Seasons 1 and 2, the set-up for her was great, but everything after that was mostly an abysmal fall from grace. They focused too much on her being jealous of Raps and upset over Gothel and ignored all of the problems that had sprung up in their friendship--such as Raps pushing her to the side just as much as anyone else and taking advantage of her friendship. And then she literally had to ask herself, “Wait... am I the bad guy?” for her to consider that her actions may be unjustified. Even after that, she immediately jumps back into her “villain” mode when Varian accidentally fired at her and blaming Raps--who’s just standing there--all while knowing ahead of time that Raps signed the decree for the weapon and having already excused it. I saw glimmers of potential in the finale, but honestly, they fumbled and tripped so much with Cass that, even while satisfied with the conclusion to her arc, I’d far from call it a success.

Lance... This character just screams of missed opportunities. They gave him a great background to go with Eugene’s as these two best friends leaving a life of crime behind to each find their place in the world and then proceeded to make him the butt of a joke just about every second he was onscreen. I can’t even think of a genuine character trait he had: I just look at him and see Tangled’s version of Olaf. At least the end where he adopts Angry and Catalina was sweet, but even that felt lacking because all we got out of them were dumb jokes. We see them together, but hardly in a way that would establish a parent-child bond; more like two siblings outwitting their dim babysitter. The creators just could’ve handled him so much better, giving him and Eugene/Angry/Catalina more sincere interactions or letting him have a couple of moments to show what skills he brings to the group. They already had Shorty and used comedy among all of the characters anyway, so what was the point of making Lance a walking punchline?

As for Eugene, I don’t have much to say beyond the points where they just made him out to be a moron like they did with Lance. I actually really like how they developed them: How, personality wise, he never felt the need to change himself for anyone--he was confident in himself--but nevertheless struggled to find his own identity because of his past, family legacy, and whatever other revelations he came across in the present. It was an interesting journey, watching him find himself.

For all the bad I had to say regarding Raps in the post I listed earlier, I will admit as well that she does have some positive aspects. I liked how her character arc focused on the importance of personal freedom while balancing it with the moral choice of accepting one’s duty to others. For a time, she’s not ready to rule Corona due to her lack of knowledge/experience and never having the chance to discover what she needed in her own life. However, she doesn’t use it as an excuse to shirk away from her responsibilities. She accepts her duty to her kingdom and her people--and even to Eugene to an extent since she does love him and knows it’s unfair if she made him wait forever at her side--but she’s not willing to throw away her own happiness by rushing forward to fulfill them. It’s a balance that’s easy to struggle with, if not to the same degree as a princess, whether from a basic work/life or group/individual scenario or if you’re, for example, a young person rushed from one phase of their life to the next with certain expectations. The cherry on top is that she’s also a person struggling with her own maturity in the meantime, going from careless in some situations to a voice of reason later down the road.

Overall, Zhan Tiri was a pretty good villain, particularly because she was actually, well, an honest villain. After years of show after show, movie after movie, constantly being compelled to give their bad guys some sob story that hardly ever makes up for their actions, we’re finally back to getting to villains we love to hate. While I wouldn’t place her on the top tier, she’s still well done overall. I don’t like her more powerful forms that much--they just don’t seem to have the best designs--but the child form was great. The team found a good balance of conniving and creepy with her look. My main complaint is that she can’t learn to shut up. Now, it’s not the monologuing or even her spilling her own plans that I don’t like. Yes, it’s a trope for villains; however, it’s often used to showcase their arrogance; give the audience some more information about what’s going on in a simple, but effective way; and typically done when either the hero is at their weakest or when the villain is alone/with other villains. The problem is Zhan Tiri’s timing. It would be one thing if she monologued when Raps was at her weakest: Instead, she decides to reveal her identity and intentions to Raps well before her plans could succeed, therefore putting them at risk. Had she not outright said “I’m playing Cass,” Cass’s morality would be placed in a more questionable eye by Raps and the others--further encouraging the conflict between the two young woman, which was what the demon wanted. Her explaining that to Raps was just dumb.

Music

I have no complaints. Whoever is behind this, bravo: You made gold.

I’d dare argue that the bulk of the songs could easily be any number that you’d hear on a successful Broadway track. They're memorable, catchy, and tailor-made to perfectly fit in their respective scenes. Everyone involved seemed to put their heart into the music, making many of them extremely powerful pieces. The dialogue also meshes really well with the music, allowing the songs to flow naturally in and out of the scenes. The only time where I’d say it doesn’t quite work would be in Through it All, but considering that the scene makes a point of joking about the musical elements of the series prior to that, you’re supposed to be aware of how unnatural it is, which can give it a charm of its own.

Art and Animation

Again, for the art, no complaints. Aside from some minor nitpicks that I’d shrug off--and I mean really minor, like a bird for the beginning of one episode that was huge in comparison to a second flying close to it--it’s beautiful. The style has a strong, painter-like quality that fits with the concept of this being Rapunzel’s story, matching to her--of course--being an artist. You have these bold, beautiful colors and the team wasn’t afraid of letting them shine at their best, like in scenes such as when Rapunzel and Cassandra are fighting as the sundrop and moonstone. There were so many nice contrasts that directed one’s focus perfectly on what the creators wanted you to see and that also made for rich, impressive moments in the show.

As for more subtle details, one that I particularly liked were some of the gradients and the way they’re applied, such as the blush to Rapunzel’s face. There’s something about that soft speckle around the edges that’s really satisfying, and--when comparing Rapunzel’s design to the flatter skin tone on most of the other characters--it gives her a warm glow that helps solidify her as the physical embodiement of the sundrop.

The animation is also super solid, and any critiques I have on it largely fall to things I think probably had more to do with the script than the animation itself. For example, there’s the moment when Cass and Raps are fighting in Gothel’s house where Cass ties Raps hair around a pole, in the next moment it’s off the pole and Raps smacks her with it, and then it’s immediately wrapped around the pole again with Raps trying to unravel it. It’s a pretty obvious and careless mistake to make--especially when you see how wonderfully choreographed a lot of the series is with dynamic camera shots that move fluidity with the characters. What makes me think it’s more of a script-based problem is that there are similar inconsistencies that happen elsewhere and--while animated beautifully--don’t make much sense. One example of this is in the finale, where Cass is dying. I tried re-watching the scene and checking the wikia to see how she got a fatal injury in case I missed something, but no: It’s never shown. It’s like the team decided to have her dying just so Raps could say the healing incantation one final time. If you want to excuse it, you could say it had to do with the moonstone, but then you’d also have to explain how neither of the girls showcase any physical weaknesses aside from their loss of powers when Zhan Tiri takes both of their respective gems. Which leads me to...

Writing

This is the hardest for me to discuss because so much of it is either really, really good or really, really bad. I guess to start, I’ll bring up a problem that I noticed mimicked another show, Star Vs. the Forces of Evil. Similarly to SVTFOE, the last season didn’t focus enough on the main plot to properly flesh it out--albeit, SVTFOE was much worse than Tangled: The Series could ever fear being. A lot of people try to blame this on “Well, it’s the last season: It’s all they’ve got left to tell the story in.” Ok... Well, yeah, we can talk about how Disney and other companies stink at just letting creators tell a good story in the time they need to in another discussion, but here’s the thing: The teams know well in advance how many episodes they have to work with. Unfortunately, they wasted some of those episodes. Did we really need to see Catalina as a werewolf? Did we really need Pascal to befriend a dragon? Even in the finale, with the more minor characters’ stumble into the Lost Realm, what was the point of it besides humor and getting them out of the way for a bit? I’d understand if they were episodes for lightening the mood, but they already put so much comedy relief in with the main plot that that isn’t necessary: The mood’s already light enough and there’s just not much time to waste on random filler. Again, filler isn’t a problem in itself either: You can have it, just don’t let it sacrifice main points that the show should address. One way to have gotten around this was to use more of a two-plot structure with some of these episodes: Plot A would focus on whatever fun the team wanted to have while Plot B could sprinkle in bits of information that the audience will need later for the main story--or they could even have done that with just a small scene to nudge some info in after the episode was done and before the credits rolled.

I’d like to bring up some of the points that I thought could’ve been covered better. First off, the whole “destiny” thing. Well, we get what all signs Raps’ destiny is pointing to, but as often as it was brought up for Cass, they hardly explained what she wanted after taking the moonstone. What was her plan? Initially, she didn’t want to attack/take over Corona. Sure, they tried saying she didn’t want to be anyone’s second, but everyone was going to hate her for taking the moonstone in the first place, so... good work there: I don’t think Cass would be stupid enough not to realize people wouldn’t think highly of her for it despite what the show tried to tell us. They even missed the chance for some friction between Cass and Eugene after the latter was made the Captain of the Guard: Come on, you know that would’ve set her off! Even the show questions this by Raps asking Cass what her end goal was in, I guess, the creators’ attempt at patching their mistake too little too late.

Then there was the oh-so-important eclipse that we’re told nothing about until it gets here... besides that fact that it’s an eclipse. The way the team tried to build it up through Zhan Tiri, you would’ve thought it was some cosmic magic on level with Avatar’s Sozin’s Comet. From what we could tell though, no, it’s just a normal eclipse. That’s fine, but then why not explain more about it when everything else involving the sun and moon was amplified to some magical involvement?

Thirdly, they brought the death incantation back: You know, that spell Raps was stupid enough to think she could control and then somehow randomly did for Varian because plot device despite it later being rendered pointless when the black rocks are then shown to be able to pierce through the amber just fine in S3, so Raps could’ve used those to save Varian’s father instead back when she had control of them? That death incantation? Yeah, suddenly it’s a bad thing again. I could probably write a whole other post on these types of goofs alone, but I’ve been writing this for hours now and I’m almost to the end of it.

To wrap up this section, I will, however, admit that I liked some of the little things they included and would bring up later: I just wish they had done it more. This is a method I call breadcrumb storytelling, in which a creator--for a specific moment--gives attention to something small that inevitably has a solid payback, often with the audience forgetting about it for a period only to resurface in their mind at the reveal. One major point I’m talking about here was the use of the Moonstone shard. Like many others, I actually did think they were going to show it as a sign of Cass’s slow destruction--that the Moonstone was a physical part of her and that by destroying it or overusing its power, it would inevitable destroy her as well. It was a pleasant surprise to see the shard used as the key to defeating Zhan Tiri, and just how it was used.

Conclusion

So, did I like the series overall or not...? Eh... I still find myself going back and forth on it. What I hate about it, I hate with a passion, but the good parts that are there genuinely moved me. The things that worked wrapped up nicely and it was nice, but bittersweet to see the characters get their happy ending because it did feel pretty earned and you do feel sad to say goodbye to these people and this world you’ve become familiar with. So I wouldn’t call it bad: I’d compare it to car that got totaled in a wreck and still somehow managed to flawlessly parallel park without any casualties after it flipped across the street. It’s a mess, but I can still smile at it by the end of the day.

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel #disney #tv show #cartoon

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