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#this horrible history between them that they keep referencing
debbeh · 4 months
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can u give me a guide to the six idiots :33 like maybe with a picture of them n their names n who they play in the Big Three shows :33 pwetty peesse :33
UM YES!?
ok, you saw me earlier trying to format all the images so it's gonna be mostly my (ehhhh) descriptions of the characters and you gotta guess what they look like 😈
Ben Willbond
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Yonderland:
Elder Vex (above): the one who says Deb-beh and has the coziest looking outfit I NEED IT RN PLZ and the Tom Cardy- esque hair and earring
Nick: the stick. Grumpy all the time cuz he's a stick >:(. Is also a portal between dimensions but whatevs
Horrible Histories
Mike Peabody :historical news reporter that wishes he were anywhere but here rn
King Henry, Alexander the Great: SkINy MaNdRiA, excellent hair, sniffed a guy
Ghosts
The captain: AKA James, makes a lotta noises, if you ever hear me going weeeahhhhhuuuueeeaaaaaahhhh, I'm referencing him, the gay one<3
Martha Howe-Douglas!
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Yonderland!!
Debbie.
Debbie's evil twin sister (bossy boobs)
I just googled it: Rita, the Negatus simp AKA us, the demon that looks like how female animals are protrayed in Barbie movies
Horrible Histories!!!
Boudica (look up the song, it's rlly good), Cleopatra, every female historical figure
Pirate lady....<33333
Ghosts!
Lady Button (present day): Old disgruntled lady that pouts all the time and falls out of windows
Lady Button (flashback)
Mathew Baynton!!!
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Yonderland!!!
Oracle: weird blue blob guy, Nigel, Darling
Nanny la roo: NUM NUMS!!!! - nanny that is also a kangaroo
Admiral Anous: Voldemort mf I hate him bc he hates Negatus>:(
Elder Choop: Croissant hair mf, says, "IDK WHY DON'T WE ASK UR MUM??"
Le Fox: French
THE BIRRDDDDD: AKA Thomas Payne, Batman but cooler
Oh yeah, and Elf: the elf shaped one, full name: Grintallin Gobscrew Crotell Fashanu F’naw Goplatz Holla-Holla, has multiple wives apparently and is in debt to the mob
Horible Histories (look all of them up, they are all hot)
Dick Turpin: play the song >:333, shot not one but two men dead!
D.I. Bones: the whakkus bonkkused
King Charles II: absolute party-er
Ghosts
Thomas Thorne, shot, dead! Absolute poetic simp for Allison, drowned himself in the lake ;( -cannot drown-
Jim Howik!!!
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Yonderland
Elder Pressley: looks like Elvis, eats christmas tree ornaments
Crone: A sLaPper *wink wink*, has apparently gotten with everyone, goes eeeerrrrrrrrrrr all the time- sounds like a doorhinge, she is amazing
Neil: lhe most normal of the demons probably
Horrible Histories
A SHOUTY MAN!!! :does all the infomercials, will try to sell you piss
King George VI (above) : "oh yesss, dad's dead, I'm king..."
King Richard III: a sweet little guy<3 -according to the song, get's attacked by whasp
Ghosts
Pat Butcher: Greatest DJ in the AAARRREEEEEUHHHHH, killed by a child, AKA Pete in the American version
Larry Rickard
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Yonderland
Detective Mounteback: very dumb detective with very large hat
Elder Ho Tan: trans Icon, doesn't like loud noises, absolute baby<3
Sue: above, the lady with the gun from the episode I showed you
Horrible Histories
Bob Hale: weather report, needs a hellicopter and a nice cup of tea, basically Bill Wurtz
Lol knight with shit on head, Aztec guy, George III friend who slays so hard; "ConGRatu-VerY-LaTiOns your... *MAgEsTy*"
Ghosts
Humphrey: keeps getting left on roofs and shelves, does NOT know French smh
Robin: 5,000 yo ghosts, once saw a cool butterfly, KNOWS FRENCH! Got stuck by lightning and now he can turn on lights
and finally... the moment you've been waiting for...
Simon Farnaby!!!
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Yonderland!!!
Negatus<333: Silly guy try to take over Yonderland but is just a lil guy, has an evil lair, uses The Font of Orris (cauldron thing that lets you see everything) as a hot tub, get's bullied by all the other overlords, wears pjs with houses on them.
Elder Flowers!!!: Long hair and lack of shirt, vegetarian hippie of the group, wants his clothes to be veGONE, "all you need is love, brothers... oh, and food"
Horrible Histories
Emperor Caligula: the wakkus bonkkus guy
Marcus Licinius Crassus: Knockoff Bassline Junkie song
Ghosts:
Jullian!!!: Died conducting an affair with his secretary!!!, is eternally sorta drunk, does the hand thing, only ghost that can interact with stuff, makes silly EEERREREEEEE noise when he's trying to move something, his name is Trevor in the American version, sad when there's no porn on da TV ;(, has no pants BTW
Thanks for coming to my TEDTALK!!!
Lemme know if I missed anything!
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My favorite novels I read for the first time in 2022
I usually do this on instagram, but since I've stopped using it, I wanted to post here
So here they are in no particular order:
1922 by Stephen King - I never read King before this year, when I went on a Libby bend before Halloween. This is story has stayed with me. I get why King is such a popular author, his writing style is so addictive that I had to read this all in one sitting. Wonderful and horrible. And though it felt inevitable, the twist at the end still gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. (Anyone know if the Netflix adaptation is any good?)
The Montague Twins #2: The Devil's Music by Nathan Page & Drew Shannon - What can I say about the Montague Twins? Other than I will read as much as Page and Shannon write. The style is so cool and the story is a perfect fusion of Scooby Doo and Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Truly I love to see a book with such a strong aesthetic and story. I can't wait to see where this series goes!
Any Old Diamonds by K. J. Charles - Another great of be gay, do crime fiction! One thing I was struck by reading this book was Charles' confidence in Victorian history. We love a historical fiction author who cares about the historical part! Plus the romance is very sexy. This was the first of K. J. Charles' extensive work that I've ever read, so I definitely plan to read more soon. Specifically there is a series whose events are referenced by a side character in this book that I am very interested in - hopefully I'll have more to report next year!
Any Old Diamonds by K. J. Charles - Another great of be gay, do crime fiction! One thing I was struck by reading this book was Charles' confidence in Victorian history. We love a historical fiction author who cares about the historical part! Plus the romance is very sexy. This was the first of K. J. Charles' extensive work that I've ever read, so I definitely plan to read more soon. Specifically there is a series whose events are referenced by a side character in this book that I am very interested in - hopefully I'll have more to report next year!
Any Old Diamonds by K. J. Charles - Another great of be gay, do crime fiction! One thing I was struck by reading this book was Charles' confidence in Victorian history. We love a historical fiction author who cares about the historical part! Plus the romance is very sexy. This was the first of K. J. Charles' extensive work that I've ever read, so I definitely plan to read more soon. Specifically there is a series whose events are referenced by a side character in this book that I am very interested in - hopefully I'll have more to report next year!
A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall - Alexis, I meant to read more from you, I swear! (Truly he just writes too fast for me to keep up!) Hall's work made it onto my list last year with he excellent Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake and the very charming Boyfriend Material, but Hall's historical fiction is just lovely. I fell in love with the main character, Viola, immediately which is a feat because it usually takes me a while to warm up to them. And my god the tension between the main characters! I went wild for the shaving scene (if you know, you know) Anyway, I plan to at least do a reread of Boyfriend Material before finally reading Husband Material and also the rest of his books, but that may take a while.
Small Game by Blair Braverman - This book, this book. I only know Blair Braverman from her appearances on the podcast You're Wrong About (I recommend the episode "Flight 571: Survival in the Andes"), but they definitely sold me on her knowledge of survival, as well as her ability as a storyteller. I will say, though this book has been billed as horror, I don't think it fits entirely in that genre, at least not for me. I was never truly frighted for the main characters during the events of the story because I was confident in their knowledge and teamwork - which is not to say it wasn't an engaging read. I found it more engaging because it didn't give into cheap scares. My best recomendation is that if you loved books like Hatchet or My Side of the Mountain as a kid, you'll definitely love Small Game.
The Husband Bluff by @kanna-ophelia - I just (jenny-slate-screaming.png, chandler-bing-hugging-a-record.jpeg) Julius and Wren my beloveds <3. I don't even know what to say here, do you love love? Romance? Tenderness? Do you love two fools in love? and meddling friends who know better? What about class and family drama? The difference between nobility an honor? Disagreeable cats and tight leather trousers? What about the best mom in the world shutting down the worst mom in the world? (I will never get over Mel calling Wren her "chick") Anyway, if you like any of these thins, you need to read The Husband Bluff immediately, which you can do because it's on AO3 right now! (see link above)
And those are the best novels I've read this year!
I'm putting together another list of my favorite short lit, so if you liked these, be on the look out for that post to come.
In the meanwhile, happy reading!
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batteryrose · 2 years
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im late but ASK GAME TIME!! 1, 9, 21, 28, 36
Hey Mo I love you!! And that's a lot of numbers!!! Fine I'll answer them
Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?
Wouldn't mind rewriting and bettering Tragedy Farce if only I have THE GODDAMN TIME
You also have to kill the perfectionist in you sometimes. I'd rather move on and make some other funky stuff
Thoughts on cliffhangers.
What about cliffhangers. I can be tricked into thinking bad stories are good if they have a good cliffhangers in every chapter or something....... So I'd say they're pretty important. You gotta make people keep reading somehow! I'm pretty bad at it myself though.
Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?
I can't really. There is some intuition in shorter ones though. Usually those one shots with only one scene that I like writing will end up around 2k words. Somehow that's just how long all of them would be without me even checking the word count. And it would be enough, too. Crazy
As for my longer fics, they always end up double the amount of what I predicted lol
Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?
I think to write often you have to be amongst writers. Have some writer friends like this, who tags you in.. Asks games.
Seriously though, it seems to work best. Reading all your friends works and throwing your own out there to be read. It's a rhythmic cycle. There's nothing else more motivating. As for writing longer fics, I have a habit of not talking/sharing wips about it to anyone until it's finished. I probably should! You probably should. You can probably get better ideas from other people. You might also catch mistakes early. Either way, Use People.
What else... Mmmmmoh I usually continue reading a book first before I start writing because then the words flows out easier. But that might just be because I'm not a native english speaker. Get the english brain going. I think it'll work for everyone though.
When I'm so lazy and stubborn to write anything, I'll use an alarm to do those 25 min writing sprints. This I rarely do. It's only for my long fics that I procrastinate on horribly. It sort of works tho and after some days I'd start writing on my own without needing the alarm.
One other thing too maybe: draft on phone and edit on computer! Especially porn!! Cannot for the love of me ever do that on computer
How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?
I like to reference things in titles basically. I'm not creative. If I'm stumped then I'll just steal some other people's titles. The Tragedy Farce one, for example, is a title of a philosophy book written by Slavoj Zizek, which is also referencing Marx's quote about Napoleon that says: "history repeats, first as tragedy then as Farce" or something like that (I think he was specifically talking about Napoleon III). 'Less than Nothing' is also a zizek book title, while also being something Leon himself said once. It's great.
Some other titles that reference things:
Sleipnir is a horse in nordic mythology who is ridden by Odin, who has eight legs, like the,,, eight princes of Rhodolite. So "Sleipnir's Second Limb" just means Chevalier. Through the pov character's view, he is seen as some sort of a God.
I know Nothing about norse mythology. I believe I was searching for just about any horse god out there to reference. I think this one is perfect.
"If the mountain won't come to Mochammad," and "God Between Us and All Harm" are both people sayings that I found by googling. I'm most proud of the Muhammad one. It fits PERFECTLY with Adam's dumb predicament there. As for the second one, it just sounds visceral with the content of the fic.
'Symptoms of Rosette Disease' is just some words. Honestly thinking of changing it. Rosette disease itself is a fascinating plant disease, that's why I used it. And it's supposed to mean the underlying prejudice and inequality that exists in Rhodolite, the kingdom of roses, or something. I'm Trying to be profound here
'The Skies Have Been Empty' is also a good one... It's just Wellington noticing that over the centuries the stars have been less visible (because of light pollution babyyyyyyyyyyyy) and since stars was how people find their way in the past, he now has lost his way in life, Something Something
That's all I have to say about titles. I just woke up.
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ficfanatictrf · 1 year
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referencing your most recent post! i definitely don't think *anyone* should be told to die or get such hate for their beliefs, and believing in such is hypocritical, you're very right! But is it still okay to be like, uncomfortable with interacting with people who hold beliefs that oppose your own? Like 'hey I see that we don't share these ideas we feel are Very Important, to each their own, but I would prefer if we did not go in each other's personal spaces'?
Honestly, there is far to much of this shit everyone is obsessed with.
Maybe it is because I have family and friends from all walk of life and such varied belief systems that when you say that if someone doesn't align with your beliefs you will kick them out of your space? Do you really believe that 1) your beliefs are so perfect and 2) that you can't have good interactions with people who believe differently than you? There is a difference between someone picking on you for the difference beliefs or being hostile towards you own ethics, but if all they do is just go 'oh, well this is what I believe' and then you freak out cause 'omg, you believe that. You are the cause of x, y, z. I can't believe you believe in that- you are disgusting'
Your question about not wanting people with different beliefs in your personal spaces. That is something you will have to work on for yourself because it is a complex answer.
You need to keep track of your own mental state, if you can handle the differences of opinion on the topic (a friend of mine had horrible history with alcoholics, so anyone that boasted about partying would trigger him too much for it to allow a close friendship).
But, you also limit yourself to a much smaller range of friendships. Some of my greatest friendships have been with people in social circles I would have NEVER imagined myself in. I learned things about the world that I had never even known about or imagined- which has only helped me grow as a person.
That questions is one that I struggle with daily at my college, so I don't say that it will be easy. Just be gentle with yourself as well, sometimes you need to put your own health first.
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tunemyart · 3 years
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ok: thoughts on S3 The Rift? I’m rewatching xena for the first time in like 10 yrs and omg…
I *clapping emoji* LOVE *clapping emoji* THE RIFT *clapping emoji x2*
(but will also qualify my love of the Rift by saying I have NO idea how so many people watch it and go "oh yeah, how could Gabrielle DO that to Xena?" rather than the other way around bc were y'all watching when Xena methodically hunted down her and her child to kill her? Right on top of the trauma that Gabrielle had literally just gone through??? JESUS XENA WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO YOUR WIFE
anyway)
I love how it goes full on Greek tragedy, which is a literary form that is ALSO bananas, just straight up fucking bananas in the best way. It's not realistic! It's not meant to be realistic! It's meant to push the characters to the very limit of human experience and their own experience with humanity! To make us question their own limits and their own humanity! And it does a pretty fuckin good job of it.
And there is also the crowning glory of the Rift which is - the entirety of the show that followed. It transformed the show in terms of form and story, it transformed the characters in terms of how deeply nuanced and terrifyingly human they are (especially when it comes to their relationship with/to each other), and it quite literally formed the foundation the later seasons stand on. No way S4 exists without the Rift!! No way S6 exists without the Rift!!! The Rift permeates the rest of the show and creates an uneasy just-off-center kind of balance that, in X/G's learned, easy, familiar navigation of it, becomes maybe the most ridiculously intimate part of their relationship. They know each other. They keep choosing each other anyway. It's incredible.
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bettekne · 2 years
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I had to take up your offer to talk about this immediately because none of my friends read comics and it's nice to talk to someone that actually knows what I'm talking about 😅
About them trying to keep Barbara's past intact despite de-aging her: 🤝 It irritates me so much. I'm like, "She either gets to have her past or she's practically Dick's age, you don't get to have it both ways!" If they want the forced ship that's based on the few flirtatious interactions Dick and Barbara had in the 60s-70s when Barbra was a mid-to-late 20s woman and Dick was a teenager then they should have to suffer the consequences associated with making it less inappropriate(/not inappropriate at all if it's actually true that Barbara and Dick's age difference has settled into being 2 years apart, which I've heard but don't know for a fact, myself). Because absolutely nothing can convince me she's still able to be as young as even her mid-20s by the time of the killing joke (which I'm just using as a useful timeline indicator) after working as a head librarian, which she had to have been promoted to first after idk how many years of working as a regular librarian, and then being a politician (which I think isn't a piece of her history that gets referenced at all but I'm throwing it in here anyway) and then getting back into being Batgirl and then retiring again a bit later, just before she's shot. I'm sure the de-aging isn't entirely about making her a more acceptable romantic option for Dick since women getting de-aged is pretty normal, but. The decision to pair them together had to have played a role in it, so I need the writers and fans to suffer the full consequences of de-aging her, by which I mean mostly scrubbing her history clean.
Also I really thought that since they de-aged her in batgirl year one that they would have gone the whole mile and unambiguously closed the age gap, so it's disturbing and ridiculous to me (but not unexpected given DC's track record) that they made the decision to have her at 16-18 while Dick was, like, 12. And re: my previous paragraph, having her graduate college so early is *such* a cop-out, like, again, either she gets her history or she's closer to Dick's age, make a decision 🙄
And, not directly a complaint about the de-aging/age difference, but I find it so frustrating that the whole appeal of Dick and Barbara as a romantic relationship, based on what I've seen of that ship, seems to be rooted in them having been "childhood friends with a mutual crush" when their supposed childhood friendship is something that was retconned in. Like, the one thing this relationship supposedly has going for it as its selling point and it had to be cobbled together after or around the same time writers started pushing their relationship forward. And I just... If you have to invent a history between 2 characters so late into their existence explicitly in order to give them chemistry and make the relationship more appealing and acceptable then maybe the relationship kind of....... I don't want to be too mean and say "sucks", but I can't think of any other way to say it. It's just so flimsy, imo - like there was this gaping hole in the logistics of their romantic relationship being viable and interesting and worth anyone's investment so the writers put a plank over it and hoped everybody would say "yup, that looks right, great job 👍😍" and most people actually do seem to have that attitude about it. And I'm sitting over here like "🙃 If I have to see them being romantic interests in one more comic I'm going to lose it". (Plus it doesn't help at all that their relationship started during the 1996 Nightwing run because I despise 90% of that run and, personally, I feel like the the late 80s-early 00s in general were a horrible time for Dick's character and that most of his content from that period had fucked over his personality, so their relationship genuinely offers me absolutely nothing on top making me uncomfortable because of the age thing.)
So yeah. That's about all the thoughts I have about that situation. I'm so sorry this is so long.
DONT BE SORRY RANT AWAY
anyways ye,the whole dick/babs thing was mainly a thing cause DC didnt like Dick being more popular with nonbat characters (ex:the titans, Kory) so they decided Babs was the best opinion...for some reason.Never mind the fact that Babs is a grown ass adult who watched Dick grow up or anything
But sadly this is normal in dc...(shoutout to them trying to normalize Slade/Terra 🤢🤢)
Girls get deaged all the time (Dinah Lance, Zatanna for YJ,ex ex)
But yes,Him and Babs relationship was turned into a "Hes a dog and needs a leash" (deadass saw a comic say that once),so Babs is supposed to be the one he always go back too?No matter how badly SHE fucked up,its always his fault (Like in Batman Beyond,when her cheating was his mistake apparently??)
Dick was done so dirty for dickb/abs
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yellowmagicalgirl · 3 years
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Juliet Survives in This Chapter One: Death
Claire sealed herself in the Shadow Realm with Morgana in order to save the world.
These are five ways she survived despite all the efforts of her worst enemy.
Hello, everyone! It has been literal years since I first posted Juliet Dies in This, and I am finally posting the parallel fic about Claire! We got Wizards and a movie that won’t have any relevance to this wonderful, horrible story that is Rated M for Death and Violence.
Content/Spoiler warnings for the chapter: implied/referenced dismemberment, temporary POV character death, suicidal thoughts, self harm, flogging
AO3
FFN
Claire steeled herself. If this went wrong at all, she’d be dead. But if she didn’t try, they’d all be dead.
As it was, Jim was already dead. The blast had been meant to kill four of them, so of course he was dead.
“Die, witch!” Claire screamed as she tackled Morgana through a portal into the Shadow Realm.
Disembodied, hollow, see-through, numb –
Claire took hold of the staff and ripped a portal back to the bridge over the canal.
“Break the staff!” Claire shouted, grabbing it from where it was slung across her back and throwing it towards her friends. Golden chains reached for the staff, but they wrapped around Claire’s abdomen instead. Blinky grabbed Claire’s arms as a second chain wrapped around her torso.
Three more golden chains wrapped themselves around Claire. One chain wrapped itself around her ankles. That one wouldn’t do as much harm as the others since Claire wasn’t kicking at Morgana in her attempt at escape. One chain wrapped itself around her upper arms and chest, ripping her arms away from Blinky’s. The last chain wrapped itself around her neck. It hovered around her, loose, more like a waiting noose than a chokehold.
Blinky was backlit by purple light as Toby destroyed the staff, and he reached towards Claire again. Claire’s lips parted, ready to scream, as the portal closed on his outstretched arm.
Her neck snapped before she could scream.
Claire closed her eyes, knowing she had several seconds left from one of Mr. Strickler’s history lessons on the French Revolution.
What’s here? A cup, closed in my true love’s hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips.
At least she’d be with Jim.
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make me die with a restorative.
Draal and Vendel, too.
Thy lips are warm. Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger, this is thy sheath. There rust and –
“Did you really think I’d let you die?” Morgana sneered at Claire.
There were chains around Claire’s arms and legs, all keeping her flush against the wall. Claire could barely rotate her wrists. She wanted to reach up and touch her neck.
Her neck must have been in better shape than Claire had thought. Whiplash, like Claire had looked behind herself as the car got rear-ended. It couldn’t have snapped. She couldn’t have died.
She was supposed to have died.
“Now, I was planning on bringing Merlin to the brink of death, over and over again, and only healing him enough so I could torture him again,” Morgana said. She floated to Claire, hovering so close that Claire was made fully aware of just how short she was compared to Morgana.
“I’d do that until I could figure out which way I wanted his final death to occur.” Morgana’s claws closed around the crystal, and she yanked. Gold cracks appeared all over Claire’s armor, and then her armor glowed purple as it was sucked into the crystal. A fearful whimper escaped Claire’s lips.
“But of course, you and your friends took that away from me.” Morgana frowned, and then she smiled. She transferred the crystal from her right hand to her prosthetic. “Now, here’s the thing. I had no connection to Merlin’s soul. His magic, yes, but not his soul. But you?”
“I… I broke the connection,” Claire stammered.
The slap didn’t hurt as much as the way Morgana’s claws raked across Claire’s cheek a moment afterwards.
“You weakened it, but your hubris has been your undoing all along. That connection between us will last for all of time. I don’t care if you remember the way it hurt when your neck broke. I will kill you every way I can, and even death will not be your sanctuary, because I can always bring you back.”
Claire had lost track of all the ways she had died. Starving, organs being ripped out, hanging from her wrists, getting slammed into large objects…
They all blurred together. Some part of Claire knew that they couldn’t have logically all have happened all at once. But, she had no way of remembering the order, or how many times each way had happened. There was Now, there was the infinite and infinitesimal moment where everything that was after losing her armor happened, and there was Before. Before Morgana had taken Claire’s armor. Before Claire had died for the first time. Before she had tackled Morgana. Before Claire had been possessed. Before she made the giant portal. Before she ever laid eyes on the Shadow Staff. Before was a million lifetimes ago.
Now was getting her back flayed open. Claire couldn’t fully remember if she had been whipped before, or if she just had déjà vu. Or, of course, there was the possibility that five seconds ago was no longer Now and had been tossed into the blur.
It didn’t matter. Her back hurt.
Her throat hurt, too. Every time Morgana had broken Claire’s neck, she had healed it. But Morgana didn’t heal Claire’s throat from screaming, because screaming had not yet killed her.
Claire didn’t want the pain. She didn’t want to scream. And so, she bit her lips together.
Whimpers escaped her bitten-together lips each time Morgana brought down her golden whips onto Claire’s back. Claire squeezed her eyes and bit her lips harder. Staying silent caused her to tense. Her muscles were all the more primed to be struck because they hurt more when taught and expecting the blow, but she didn’t want to scream. Eventually, Claire fell silent. She continued to bite her lips together. Each time Morgana’s whip raked across her back, Claire bit her lips a little tighter. Eventually, the pain on her back got so bad that she sucked her cheeks into her mouth and bit those too. She didn’t want to scream, not again.
Claire didn’t realize that Morgana had stopped flaying her back open until the Pale Lady was in front of her, grabbing Claire’s face between her clawed fingers. Claire stayed silent and glared.
“So, you’re going to be like that? Fine.”
Morgana walked away from where Claire was being kept, causing the area to go dark.
Claire peeled her lips from her teeth, blood spilling from the wounds and mixing with her saliva. There was a new source of pain, yes, but that wasn’t what caused silent tears to form in her eyes.
She hadn’t died. She had resisted, and she hadn’t died.
Some broken shadow of a smile slowly formed on Claire’s face, and with it came a faint purple glow.
Author’s note: Is Jim actually dead, or does Claire just think he is? If you have read Juliet Dies in This, you already know. If you haven't, well, just wait and see 😉 (or go find out for yourself by reading that fic.)
All the italicized paragraphs were written by Shakespeare (except for the four-word flashback).
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maivalkov · 3 years
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I have seen not long ago a post about "spain's dark side" so...your opinion about that? (I kinda have a feeling of knowing why himaruya came up with that and, if I am right, I am not sure if I like it. It's not that I don't like the dark side thing, but if the reason is what I think, then I don't fancy it)
Great question! Please excuse the length of this response in advance, and if I go off on any tangents. To directly answer your question: I have a horrible feeling that Dark Spain is inspired by the Spanish Black Legend/La leyenda negra, and I don't like that at all. You've really hit on an important topic here, so I'm going to extend this discussion. I call this upcoming piece: Why I don't like Dark Spain and why we, as fans and creators, need to be mindful of how we enjoy our beloved series.
Side note before we begin: I'm going to be talking from a writer's perspective, since this is what I mostly do. My opinion is just that, nothing more. Some will agree with me, others won't, and that's okay. If you're happy with the terms, let's crack on.
Part 1: "Dark" characters I'm not against 2P or "dark" versions of a character if it's required for a particular setting. Let me show you what I mean, using some fic plots I just pulled from my head: Example one: You've got this gritty, fantasy gangster city plot. You use a real city as your location, but the characters are human. Antonio's the leader of a huge criminal organisation and therefore he will do incredibly bad things. It's trigger warnings ahoy. Is this portrayal okay? Sure. (read on before you hit that reply button) Example two: You're writing a horror fic. Antonio's a sexy merman who's more likely to decorate his cave with your entrails, than serenade you on a beach. Is this plot fine? Absolutely. It's dark af, but you're writing sexy merman horror. It kinda’ comes with the territory. Did you see how I wrote "fantasy" and "human" in bold? And did you see that I used Antonio, not Spain? There's a reason. I personally believe in this: When your story uses Hetalia characters in their human form (i.e: Antonio is just Antonio, he does not represent Spain), there's much more freedom and flexibility. I've read many excellent works with darker themes who use real locations alongside human versions of the characters, and do so brilliantly. They're wonderful stories, and they don't cause harm. They're fiction. Fantasy. Fiction. Did I mention fiction? On the flip side: When we are writing the characters as country personifications, who represent the people and the history, we must take proper precaution. The same applies to writing about historical events. (To be continued down below.)
Part 2: Dark Spain
As someone who's been in fandom 10+ years now, my problem with Dark Spain is this: a number of creators back in the old days seemed to agree with my Black Legend theory/concerns, and yet they willingly made content for it. Not everybody did this, but I certainly saw some who thought "wow dark crazy Spain because Inquisition", applied it to certain ships because "ohh angst leads to romance, what a plot" and that is wrong on so many levels. If you know the Spanish Black Legend, then you know how bad this is. It's an incredibly difficult topic because it is, in the simplest sense, massive propaganda designed to seriously damage a country's image. I welcome Spanish input on this, but personally I think using this as some edgy portrayal of Antonio in your fics is insulting. Don't bloody well do it.
(Please note that the fandom is MUCH better now, but it doesn't change the fact it has, and could still happen. I used past tense for a reason, as I do think things are improving.)
Russia is another character which suffers this treatment, and I do think we have a responsibility to be considerate. Many countries have done awful things, mine (the UK) included, and yet our characters have escaped receiving this Dark persona. It's not fair, it really isn't. It's a poor judgment call on Himaruya's behalf if my theory is true. If I'm wrong, then this argument is void. Either way I feel like Himaruya should've specified how and why Dark Spain came about. Part 3: Historical writing
Here's where it gets interesting. I'm not saying "don't write historical hetalia fanfiction", and I never will say it because historical fiction exists. You can go in your local bookshop and boom, people are making real money off it.
I'm not one of those lucky sorts, but I am contributing to that genre myself. Despite lots of magic, fantasy and general artistic license, my story Gatito can be considered historicaI.
It's set in England, 1569. Spain and the Netherlands are two of the main characters, and yes, their conflict is referenced. It coincides with the timeline, and all the while I write them as personifications, I can't pretend that tension between them doesn't exist. If I did, that'd probably be even more insulting to their history, and no doubt confusing for the reader.
The main plot is a daft mash of Arthur misusing his magic, a vile fictional man from Antonio's court who wants his head, and poor Netherlands and Portugal get wrapped up in the drama along the way.
The Dutch conflict is featured, but not the plot. The event is occurring right in the middle of a fictional disaster which Antonio is trying to overcome. It's acknowledged, but it's on the side, to put it simply.
I use human names (Antonio and Abel) and explore that situation from an emotional, human perspective. I do not claim that Abel is a victim, and no one thinks he is either. Personal HC time here: I don't think any of the characters look back at their history and think "wow, poor me". Everyone's made mistakes, and they've all played a role in hurting someone else. My history teacher once told me this: The more you look, the more you see. There's many sides to a story, and even to this day, I doubt historians have truly, faithfully documented events so that it's fair on every nation involved. That's why we need to try and learn history from multiple perspectives, and why when writing hetalia characters during a historical event, we should show the reader as many viewpoints as possible. If you don't, then... well. I frown at you. More on this in part 4.
Part 4: Conclusion/advice
I won't pretend to be a saintly figure in the fandom, and this rant is a bit of a mess, but I hope you get what I'm on about. Thank you if you're still reading.
I'm going to finish with a bit of advice that has helped me have a positive time, and allowed me to create works for a series I really love:
1- If your story is historical, and you purposely want to paint a country in a bad light, think before you do. Don't slander another country for the sake of your comfort character or ship. If your story is set during a battle then yes, they can moan about the opposition, but don’t go hardcore. You know what I mean.
2- Research, research, research.
3- You want to write a particular character. Their human name is unconfirmed, or you don't know a part of their history, but you want to write about it. What should you do? Talk. I had this very dilemma regarding Portugal's surnames, and I just asked Portuguese mutuals on Tumblr for help. I received numerous valid responses in under an hour, and I felt better for it. 10/10 highly recommend.
4- If you've gotta' write Dark Spain: Keep. It. Fictional. If you don't believe my theory behind it, cool, crack on. But if you agree with me, then yeah, I've said it enough. Respect the country.
5- DO explore history. It's fascinating.
6- If you write historical hetalia and you feel that something might be misunderstood: PLEASE USE DISCLAIMERS, END NOTES ETC. I write number 6 from experience. There is a scene in Gatito where a significantly stressed Antonio attempts to summarise the Dutch conflict. He's being blamed for countless fictional issues, and rather than think things through, he blames himself for Abel's pain as well. He does it on a purely emotional basis. Have you ever had that really bad day, and things keep getting worse? Someone comes along and says "you did x y z and I'm mad", and rather than argue your side, you accept it?
That's Antonio in that scene. I know it is, because that's how I intended it to be read. His answer is flawed, to say the least, but in his human heart, he can't help it. I used the end notes as a warning/apology/explanation for this scene. I don't want it to be misinterpreted, and I don't want to disrespect Spanish history.
7- If someone does comment/ask about a sensitive, historical part of your work: don't rant. And don't get offended. I believe we all need to talk more. Have conversations about HCs, how we would write/imagine different scenes, and use it to improve your work.
8- Have fun, and be sensible. Thank you again for reading, I hope this helps to some extent. I know I've thrown my opinion out here, but if you strongly disagree with me, don't @. Move on, embrace what you believe, and everyone's a winner. (This really should've been number 9 on the list haha.)
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stoneswords · 3 years
Text
CHERRY MAGIC TIMELINE (DRAMA CANON)
I rewatched Cherry Magic over the last couple days as one does and thought it’d be fun to keep track of the dates/when things happen. For the most part it’s very easy as there are several very specific dates mentioned in the show.
You might notice several Saturdays where they’re at work-- this seems to be pretty standard in Japanese office culture, to work a couple Saturdays a month.
You also might notice a very major time jump that would have happened between Episodes 10 and 11-- I could write this off as a suspension of disbelief type thing, but since there are so many specific dates referenced in the show, and going off Adachi’s pain at keeping his secret from Kurosawa for so long in Ep 11 I think it might be accurate. Please let me know if I missed anything!! :)
Sometime in 2013 - Adachi and Kurosawa are both hired at Toyokawa. The dinner with President Matsuura happens and Kurosawa falls in love with the first person who's ever told him he's more than a pretty face.
Feb 14 2020 - Kurosawa gives Adachi some free chocolate he got off the street.
Oct 1 2020 - Urabe teases Adachi for never having had a girlfriend, tells him of the urban legend of becoming a 30 y/o virgin wizard.
Fri Oct 2 - Adachi's 30th birthday, he discovers his powers.
Fri Oct 9: this is the day the episode aired, and it also works with the timeline in later episodes - Adachi bumps into Kurosawa in the elevator and discovers his feelings. That night Kurosawa offers to help Adachi with his extra work, they're there so late Adachi misses the last train and Kurosawa insists Adachi stay over at his place. We get scarf wrapping, geeking out over manga, Kurosawa fantasising about Adachi in his jammies, neither of them can sleep.
Sat Oct 10 - Kurosawa makes them breakfast. At the office Kurosawa scolds Urabe for putting down Adachi's work. At the end of the day Kurosawa offers some files to help Adachi with the extra work Urabe gave him. Adachi chases after him and asks him out for dinner, but Rokkaku interrupts before they can go and tells them to come out drinking. We get Kurosawa lamenting over the lost date, Adachi helping out Rokkaku, The King's Game drama. Adachi goes to comfort Kurosawa and we have Kurosawa being sad and gay and Adachi assuring him he's just an anxious virgin and Rokkaku interrupts an almost kiss.
Oct 11-Oct 25 - Adachi avoids Kurosawa.
Mon Oct 26 - Urabe asks Adachi and Fujisaki to go buy desserts, they talk about love and life, and are harrassed on the way back to the office. Kurosawa comes to the rescue. Adachi discovers Fujisaki is the aroace queen of our dreams. Kurosawa patches up Adachi’s hand. Kurosawa has trouble with a big client and Adachi uses his power to help. Kurosawa thanks him and gives him a couple mochi cakes as thanks. Rokkaku invites Adachi for lunch, giving him a bunch of food and snacks in thanks for his help at drinks a couple weeks ago. As the two are leaving work that night they see a beautiful woman run up to Kurosawa and beg to stay the night with him. Adachi walks home in the rain and falls asleep in his wet clothes in a fit of despair.
Tue Oct 27 - Adachi is sick all day, and goes to leave work early. Kurosawa notices and insists on taking him home, and as they’re getting into a taxi the woman from the night before jumps in. She turns out to be Kurosawa’s sister and demands to stay over at Kurosawa’s again, making him go home with Adachi to care for him. Kurosawa spends the whole night nursing Adachi back to health.
Wed Oct 28: Kurosawa directly references the date, and it retroactively works for all the previous dates - Kurosawa makes Adachi porridge, and the “day one of our private sweet life!” fantasy. Rokkaku interrupts again, and asks to join Kurosawa and Adachi for the night. We get Kurosawa being adorably jealous, Adachi being a very sweet and supportive friend. Kurosawa thinks about how special Adachi is to him and wonders what he’s doing to himself and leaves in the middle of the night.
Thurs Oct 29 - Adachi is worried over Kurosawa leaving early and his distance throughout the day. As they leave the office Adachi awkwardly talks about how he’s never had anyone to take care of him other than family, and Kurosawa tells him he can’t stay with Adachi anymore. He confesses his feelings and claims the next time they see each other everything will be back to normal.
Fri Oct 30: When Adachi is confessing, he mentions “yesterday” so this does happen the next day - Kurosawa is away in Osaka for the day and reflects over his history with Adachi, and how he has to let go of his feelings. Adachi realizes how much he enjoys Kurosawa’s company and how he’s always thinking about him, and runs to meet Kurosawa on his way home. He confesses his feelings and they hug and we all cry, and as they walk home Adachi asks if he wants to go out to eat and Kurosawa teases him about going to his place.
Sat Oct 31 - Kurosawa bought a one-way ticket to flirt city this morning. He finds Adachi in the break room and asks him to spend the day together tomorrow.
Sun Nov 1 - Tsuge shows up at Adachi’s right before Kurosawa, and we have some prime clown to clown communication while Tsuge talks about how he agreed to go watch Minato dance. Kurosawa suggests they all go and we get: Tsuge being awkward around his crush, Kurosawa and Adachi giggling over Tsuge being awkward around his crush, a fight and Kurosawa blanking out for a solid four seconds over being called ossan. We get some more clown to clown communication, Adachi and Kurosawa walking home and having a very sweet conversation about taking things step by step, Tsuge catches Minato’s friend kissing him and runs away.
Tue Nov 10: Adachi refers to how they’ve been dating for 9 days - Kurosawa apparently stayed the night and they played video games together aww, they have a goofy morning together being in love. Urabe points out how happy Adachi is lately. Kurosawa and Adachi share onigiri for lunch and Rokkaku interrupts again. As they’re leaving the break room Kurosawa asks Adachi to have another go at their date this coming weekend and they see the poster for the design competition. Rokkaku later finds Adachi and angrily asks him to contact Tsuge. That night after work Adachi, Kurosawa, and Rokkaku meet Tsuge at a coffee shop and Rokkaku immediately starts a fight with Tsuge over his apparent homophobia, since he’s been avoiding Minato ever since he caught him kissing his ex. Tsuge assures them he has been avoiding Minato but not because he’s gay, and runs off to find Minato and they confess to each other, and later that evening have sex. As Kurosawa and Adachi walk home Kurosawa gives him the forms to sign up for the design competition, saying he’ll be rooting for him if he gives it a try. Adachi says Kurosawa has given him the confidence to try and they hug.
Wed Nov 11 - Rokkaku thanks Adachi for his help with Tsuge and Minato. Adachi hands in his application for the design competition.
Sometime in the next couple days - Adachi and Kurosawa go for coffee after work where Adachi apologizes for how much of his time the competition will take, and Kurosawa says their date can wait, but he’ll be expecting a reward later. Tsuge calls Adachi to gush over his relationship with Minato and tell Adachi not to be afraid of losing his magic, and Adachi starts to really think about being intimate with Kurosawa.
Sat Nov 14: Adachi mentions how there’s only three days until the deadline for his proposal. On the application form, it says the proposals are due by 5pm Nov 17th - Adachi shows his ideas to Fujisaki and Kurosawa, but Rokkaku calls it boring. Kurosawa tells him not to worry about it, that inspiration sometimes comes from nowhere.
Sun Nov 15 - Adachi and Kurosawa are hanging out at Adachi’s place, and they talk about the expectations of other people. Kurosawa suggests they get out to clear their heads and have a “practise date”. We get the sweetest montage of them having fun at Tokyo Dome, and then when Adachi gets sick Kurosawa privately worries about not being able to always keep Adachi happy. That night Adachi finishes his project proposal.
Mon Nov 16: Adachi refers to their date as “yesterday” - Adachi hands in his proposal, and asks Kurosawa to have another practice date with him that evening. He takes them to the bookstore and izakaya, and Adachi shows Kurosawa his proposal. They have a conversation about communication and how they should be able to relax around each other. As they are walking home Adachi accidentally responds to Kurosawa’s thoughts and thinks about how if Kurosawa knew they couldn’t be together in the same way anymore.
Sun Dec 13: This one is mostly speculation, but I feel it works as the conversation between Adachi and Tsuge is so fresh in his mind the next day, and Adachi also refers to Tsuge’s problems when they see each other on Christmas Eve - Tsuge and Adachi get lunch and Tsuge talks about his relationship troubles, and warns Adachi about not relying too much on his power.
Mon Dec 14: Kurosawa mentions how they have a week to prepare for Adachi’s presentation - Adachi has passed into the second phase of the design competition, and Kurosawa promises to spend all their time special training for his presentation. Adachi apologizes for how much of Kurosawa’s time he’s taking up, but Kurosawa assures him it will all be worth it to enjoy their “first Christmas together and the best date ever”.
Dec 16/17/18 - Montage of the two of them preparing for Adachi’s presentation. It’s also at some point during this week Kurosawa talks to Fujisaki about a restaurant for his date with Adachi.
Mon Dec 21 - Also known as Kurosawa and Adachi’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Kurosawa gives Adachi a bento reminding him to believe in himself, Adachi uses his power to connect with the planning and development committee and then feels guilty for cheating and then doesn’t pass anyway. Adachi tells Kurosawa about his powers and then admits he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to be in a relationship with him if he doesn’t have them, and they break up :(
Dec 22/23 - Kurosawa and Adachi are very sad and literally everybody knows. Urabe and Fujisaki both have conversations with Adachi about being happy/true to himself.
Thurs Dec 24 - Tsuge goes to see Adachi and tells him that he has to learn to communicate with the people he loves, even if it’s hard. Adachi races off to meet Kurosawa, they reconcile and hug and Kurosawa asks Adachi to be his office pal for life and fireworks go off and everyone’s cryin’.
Fri Dec 25 - First day of the rest of their private sweet life!!
Sometime over the next couple months - Rokkaku tries to suss out what Adachi and Kurosawa’s relationship and determines they’re just really good senpais to him... truly pure of heart, dumb of ass. Tsuge and Minato have a misunderstanding and then talk it out.
Feb 14 2021 - Kurosawa is in a jealous fit all day over himself, and then he and Adachi exchange true love chocolate <3
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hotchley · 3 years
Text
aaron
summary: “some of us grow up to catch them.”
ssa hotchner. former prosecutor. unit chief of the behavioural analysis unit. best shot in the whole of the quantico building. dad to jack and his entire team.
aaron hotchner. just a boy, trying to make it through the day.
(alternatively known as the backstory, the moments between, and the hotch episode we never got)
read chapter one here!
chapter two: the moments in between
trigger warnings for this chapter :  minor character deaths, death of a parent, implied/referenced child abuse, court cases involving a not guilty verdict to a charge of abuse, arson, references to cancer, references to the death of a child, vomit/sickness, references to self-harm and suicide, stabbing, canon-typical violence, blood, implied/reference drug addiction, references to domestic violence (this is between hotch's parents)
Aaron Hotchner was a lawyer full of contradictions.
He had graduated at the top of his class, but he never once referenced his own father’s abilities when he started practicing. And instead of becoming a defence lawyer- a role that would have led to him holding a position of power within weeks- he became a criminal prosecutor.
He claimed it was what called to him.
In reality, it was because he refused to let anything else be tainted by the memory of his father. He remembered the nights where his father would come home and talk about the horrible things his clients had done. He remembered how he had laughed and said he would be able to make all of those things go away with a few words. He remembered how his stomach had tightened at the injustice of it all.
But he wasn’t a scared little boy anymore. He was an adult. He was as close to happy as he could be when he spent his days looking at photos of people who had lives, and hopes, and dreams that were cut short. When an ordinary day at work meant putting some bad people behind bars whilst he was forced to let others go free.
When he was in court, he was amazing. He was cold and emotionless. People genuinely believed he had no emotions, that there was nothing that could faze him. Killers and abusers would hurl insults at him, defence lawyers would pull random laws from nowhere and he would take it. He would think on his feet and come up with something. But then there were sudden moments where he would look so vulnerable. Like when he spoke to a child, a young woman, the family that thought they hadn’t done anything to save their loved one.
The only time he would smile was when the blonde woman in his life would appear. Sometimes it was with lunch, dressed semi-casually, hair slightly messy and pen on her face from whatever it was she was doing. Other times it would be in a pretty dress. Those would be the days where he would look mildly terrified for a moment, before grinning and leading her out the office. On the bad days where they would be forced to come in on a weekend, she would come in with her own work and keep him company.
Haley had gone into teaching. High school history, although she always helped with the various productions held. She was a natural with the kids, always doing her best to be understanding and helpful, instead of confrontational and harsh. Despite this, there were still nights where she would come home, not saying anything. Those nights, Aaron would wrap his arms around her and let her cry about the injustice of the system.
Those were the nights he remembered just how lucky he was that she had taken a chance on him, unlike everyone else, who had left him to suffer. He didn’t want to think about where he would’ve been without her. Or if he would’ve even been anywhere on this earth.
So their lives weren’t perfect, and he woke up screaming some nights, but they were good. They both had stable jobs in the same area, which meant they could eat dinner together and fall asleep in each other’s arms every night. Haley liked linking their hands together so she could look at their wedding rings.
The wedding had been small, more for her parents than anyone else. He still didn’t believe he was worth loving. She had always dreamt of a wedding, but with Aaron none of that seemed to matter. What mattered was him being around. Her parents however, weren’t having any of it and even offered to pay for the wedding if that was the problem.
Haley had very kindly told them to keep their money. If her and Aaron were to get married, they would do it the way they wanted to, with their savings and their budget.
In the end, the wedding had been a compromise. Haley’s entire family, all of her high school friends and sorority sisters were invited, and everyone but Meredith attended. Aaron’s mother and brother came, as well as some of his friends from law school, but the list of people he actually wanted there was even shorter than Haley’s. She refused a seating plan for that exact reason.
After they cut the cake, they managed to sneak away for a few minutes. The wedding had been outdoors. They could see the stars. And when Aaron looked at her, he fell in love all over again. He could hear the music faintly, and so he had offered his hand and they had danced, feeling like they were seventeen all over again. That night, there had been no darkness inside him. Only joy.
And as one of his favourite authors, Joseph Campbell, had written: find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.
But when you saw the things he did, it was difficult to find a place where joy could survive. And even when it was there, it was temporary. Because no matter what he, and everyone else in the district attorney’s office did, the evil never stopped. There was always somebody else getting hurt. Another victim not being believed. A lawyer quitting because they couldn’t keep looking at the worst of humanity and surviving.
Aaron’s own last case haunted him years after he joined the FBI.
He had been on edge for a while. Christmas had come and gone. With it, the never-ending questions from various colleagues and family members about when he was next coming home. When was Haley going to have a baby? Were they even trying for a child? Was Aaron having some difficulties? Or worst of all, when was he going to let go of his grand delusions and silly ideas and settle down as a defence lawyer?
Returning to his real home- the apartment him and Haley resided in, that had come to life with their little knick-knacks- had been a relief. She wasn’t fond of going home and seeing everyone that had failed Aaron, but she loved her family and friends. Aaron could never get away fast enough. She respected that. It was why they worked.
The new year came, and with it, new cases.
Aaron wasn’t trying to bring a killer to justice with only the evidence from the crime scenes and the testimony of families. He was trying to save an innocent child and make sure the only monsters in their life were the ones imaginary ones under the bed, instead of the father they said was abusing him and his mother.
It was like looking in a mirror. An innocent child finally snapping and telling the police the truth about their home life. But where Aaron had been mocked and told to stop being a liar, the police had listened. Gathered the evidence. They had done their job. Now it was time for Aaron to do his.
He poured over the files for hours. He found every piece of evidence he could. He would not fail this child. Not the same way he had been. He would find the truth behind every hospital visit, between every tear they had ever shed and he would make sure that the old bastard’s wife and son never had to be scared for their lives ever again.
Aaron was going to do what nobody ever did for him.
It was a week before the trial. New evidence had been located. It was all important, obviously, but there was something they were missing. Something Aaron knew would make all the difference to their case. He just needed to find out.
His phone lit up. Sean was calling him. He rolled his eyes. He couldn’t be dealing with his younger brother’s complaints in that moment. And he certainly couldn’t be lending him any more money. Him and Haley were saving for a mortgage. Then they would have a real home. Somewhere to call their own.
Somewhere to eventually raise their own children.
Sean tried to call him two more times. And Aaron declined two more times. It was a bit strange that he was phoning so consecutively, but it was probably nothing. No, not probably, definitely. It always was.
He turned back to the files, making sure his phone was on silent. When the clock ticked to six, he hurriedly locked majority of the files away in his cabinet and put the ones that had just come through into his briefcase. Haley had planned a nice evening for the two of them. But if- when- he woke up in the early hours of the morning, at least he could do something productive.
There were two more missed calls from Sean. Aaron made a mental note to phone him when he got home.
“Give me fifteen minutes to shower and then I’m yours, I promise,” he said as he entered their living room, shoes already neatly put away on the porch.
There were two packed bags on the couch. Haley was sat, wearing a black dress, hands in her lap, landline next to her. Her head was bent, but her body was shaking as tears slipped down her cheek, dampening the fabric.
Aaron felt bile rising in the back of his throat as he knelt in front of her. “Baby,” he whispered.
She shook her head.
“Baby, what happened? Just tell me, it’s okay.”
“Your mom’s gone,” she said.
“What?” Aaron whispered.
“I’m so sorry Aaron. I am so- that wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you. It’s just- Sean said she was admitted to the hospital earlier, and she passed away about an hour ago. They phoned here because you didn’t answer your cell phone. I tried to explain everything, really, but they wouldn’t let me speak and-”
“She’s really gone,” Aaron said.
Haley embraced him, awkwardly wrapping her arms around his neck as he sobbed, the knowledge still not sinking in, but the emptiness in his heart was threatening to overwhelm him entirely. They sat like that for what may have been hours or minutes as his body shook. Only when his tears turned to hiccups did Haley pull away, gently wiping away his tears with the sleeve of her dress.
“You should shower. There’s nothing else you can do now,” she said.
Aaron shook his head. Haley stood and led him to the bathtub.
“All you need to do is keep your head up for me, okay?”
The shower had no effect on him. Haley helped him dress. He felt like a small child, needing someone’s assistance to button his shirt up. But he couldn’t make his body cooperate with him. He couldn’t do anything, still in shock that she was gone.
Haley put the bags in the boot. Aaron got in the passenger side. He spent the journey staring out the window. When the buildings became more familiar, he closed his eyes, not opening them until they reached Haley’s old home. He turned to her in confusion.
“Sean is staying with a friend tonight. Going back to that house is not something you need to do today. My parents already said we could stay with them.”
Of course they did. Because everyone must’ve already known that his mother died. His mother had died and he hadn’t been there because he’d ignored his brother’s phone calls. What kind of person did that make him?
Haley no longer had the key. She rang the doorbell, one arm still wrapped around him as they awkwardly stood outside. Hotch remembered the first time he had gone to her house for dinner. It had been after his father passed away. He’d spent the entire meal feeling uncomfortable. Like the Brooks’ weren’t going to approve of him.
Her mother had hugged him, cradling the back of his head, whispering her condolences, both for what had been lost and for what the town had failed to do. Roy Brooks had shaken his hand, saying that anyone would be proud to call him their son. Jessica had dragged him to one side and said they’d all known about Haley sneaking him in during the night, but nobody knew what to say.
When he got home, he crawled into bed and sobbed. For the first time, somebody loved him unconditionally.
It was her mother that answered the door. When she saw who it was, she ushered them in. Aaron remembered at the last moment that he was supposed to take his shoes off. Haley led him to the living room.
Roy embraced him. “You’re freezing,” he whispered. “Darling, put some tea on. Aaron, how are you feeling?”
He shook his head. He did not deserve kindness. Not in this moment.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to talk. Just drink some tea and then got some sleep. Haley’s old bedroom has been set up for the two of you. And we’ll both be here if you need anything. The next few days are going to be draining for both of you, so please, don’t hesitate in asking for any kind of support.”
“Thank you Papa,” Haley said, rubbing her husband’s back.
Aaron tried to smile, but it was forced and uncomfortable.
Roy was the one who drove him to the funeral home. Haley had offered, but she had already driven them from their apartment, which had tired her out because she hated driving, so Aaron had declined, having every intention to bear the burden alone. But as he was slipping his shoes on, Roy had emerged, saying nobody should have go alone.
Sean was waiting outside for the two of them, eyes red, biting his nails. When Aaron looked at him, he couldn’t even imagine him as the eighteen-year-old about to go to college that he was. When Aaron looked at his little brother, he just saw the little boy who didn’t understand that their dad wasn’t coming home. Only this time, there were no comforting lies to give him. He understood everything. Including Aaron’s failure.
“How could you?” Sean whispered the moment he saw his brother.
Aaron looked down.
“She was in the hospital, constantly asking where you were. She didn’t care that I was there. She just wanted to know where her precious baby was, and I had to keep lying and say that you were coming when in reality, I had no fucking clue where you were. It was not supposed to be me holding her hand. It was supposed to be you. But you weren’t there, and so you have no right to turn up, now looking all sad and pathetic.”
Michael Hotchner had not been right about much. But he had been right about one thing. Aaron Hotchner was his mirror. Sean Hotchner was his son.
“Sean Hotchner. That is enough. You do not get to disrespect your brother or your mother like that. Go inside, and do not create another scene,” Roy snapped.
When Sean departed, he turned to Aaron, who was shaking.
“Son?”
“He’s right,” Aaron whispered. “I should have been there. He- Sean phoned me and I didn’t answer because I thought it was stupid and I had this case and- I failed her.”
“Look at me. It’s not your fault. It was her time to go, and you cannot spend the rest of your life blaming yourself. Sean is angry and grieving, and he doesn’t mean a single word of what he said. You’re a good man, doing a good job and you make my daughter happy. Don’t ever forget that. Okay?”
Aaron nodded, not truly believing him. He followed Sean into the funeral home, where they spent the next few hours in a tense, uncomfortable silence. Aaron wanted to comfort his brother, but he didn’t know how. Not when Sean stood as far away from him as possible.
The funeral was a day later. Once again, Haley held his hand until the priest called him up to say a few words. Aaron managed to make it through his eulogy with minimal tears, but the moment he was back beside his wife, he turned away from the grave, letting the tears fall.
The people were silently judging him for what he had failed to do. Roy glared at everyone that dared tried to voice these opinions. They were wrong. Aaron hadn’t failed anyone. He’d gotten there the moment he was supposed to, and if those people were even half as religious as they liked to claim they were, they would know that.
“You take as long as you need,” Haley whispered, when everyone else, even Sean had departed.
Aaron nodded, holding the flowers he’d grabbed from the car to his chest like a baby. He watched as Haley left, going to sit in the car to give him the space he needed. He’d told them all to drive home, that the walk would do him some good. He watched on unsteady legs as the car faded from view.
And then he fell to his knees, sobbing, one hand pressed to his mouth to stop too much noise from escaping, the other blindly feeling around for the flowers left by Sean. Their mother had hated roses- somehow, she always managed to prick her finger on the thorns. The only reason they had ever been in the house was because on the days where people would come round, his father would turn up with a bouquet of them, and she would dutifully smile and accept them.
Aaron moved the roses so they were hidden by all the other flowers they had left. And then he put his own small bouquet of carnations right where the headstone would go.
“Mama, I am so sorry,” he whispered.
And then he walked away, unable to stand the sight of the grave anymore.
The defence ripped him and his witnesses to shreds.
The verdict was not guilty.
The child was sent home.
“You promised me,” they sobbed as their father stood with an easy smirk on his face.
He was sick the moment he got home. Haley didn’t say a word. She just showed him an advert for the FBI that had been posted through the letterbox. When he stared at her, she smiled. Said that she had married Aaron Hotchner the man, not Mr Hotchner the prosecutor.
Two weeks later, he was enrolling in the FBI Academy.
Six months later and he was Agent Hotchner. He liked that. It was his own, and nobody would ever associate the title with his father. He could be his own person.
Then David Rossi gave him the nickname of Hotch and he couldn’t be happier. It would’ve made his mother smile. And his father turn in his grave at the utter shame of his good name being reduced down to something so mundane.
But being a profiler was tough. Every case meant dealing with the very worst of humanity. And even among the worst, there was a hierarchy. Some cases were just more disgusting, more scary and more scarring than others. A few cases reminded him that profilers were all just a step away from becoming unsubs themselves. That the line could and would blur before any of them even realised.
Vincent Perrotta left him vulnerable. Physically and emotionally. Jason had told him to loosen his tie and undo his top button, but Aaron needed the reassuring pressure of both things at his neck in order to maintain some kind of illusion of control in spite of the damage done by the wire.
He didn’t open up to unsubs. One of the most important parts of conducting an interrogation was to make them think you understood them without giving away anything about yourself. And most of the time, he was good at doing that. He pretended to understand the hatred of children, pretended to agree with them when they claimed that all women were just manipulative bitches and he pretended to find it amusing when they thought that the person doing the act was right.
The key word was pretend.
He wasn’t pretending when he looked Perrotta in the eye and told him the one thing that only Haley and Dave were aware of. Had it been any other time, it would’ve been funny. His own team didn’t know what his father had done to him, but this serial killer did, and it was all because he’d slipped up and said us instead of them.
Hotch had never been so thankful there was a bathroom on the same floor as his office that nobody ever used. The moment Perrotta turned away, the realisation that his crimes had never been inevitable causing more distress than the murder of the woman had, Hotch had bolted.
He hadn’t eaten since the incident in the night. It hurt to swallow. Which meant despite the minutes he spent retching over the toilet seat, hands trembling because how many times had he looked in the mirror and seen the exact same look that he’d witnessed on Perrotta, nothing came out.
Morgan was stood by the door.
“I know we have a no profiling rule.”
“Then follow it.”
“Reid’s doing your paperwork. He’s surprisingly good at forging your handwriting and I’m not sure I want to know why. That means all you need to do is sign it. Go home.”
“You’re not my superior Morgan,” Hotch snapped.
Morgan didn’t even blink. “I know. But you won’t write me up for insubordination. There’s no reason for you to be here, but there is every reason for you to be at home.”
Their relationship was a strange one. They trusted each other as agents- it was the only way they were able to go out in the field- but not as individuals. But then every once in a while, Derek would do something like this and Hotch would wonder if it was his way of saying that he did indeed care.
He was right though. There was every reason for him to be at home.
The living room light was off, so he immediately headed upstairs. Jack was asleep in his crib. Hotch felt uneasy in the nursery. Both he and Haley knew this was their forever home, which was why they had a nursery- it could be Jack’s bedroom until he moved out- but after Karl Arnold, he wasn’t sure how he felt about not being able to see him in the night.
“He won’t wake up if you hold him,” Haley said from the doorway.
“You should be asleep,” he replied, feeling guilty that he must have woken her.
“No, I shouldn’t. What happened?”
“How do you know something happened?”
She shrugged. “I know you.”
He sighed. “I don’t want to burden you. You already put up with enough from me.”
She crept closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he was transported back to the bathroom, only now the scars on his back had healed but not faded and more, both visible and hidden, covered his body because profiling always damaged people.
“You’re not burdening me. I’m asking.”
“Serial killer. His dad abused him and his mom. I accidentally told him that some of us grow up to catch them. But Hales, the look on his face. It was like he finally realised that everything he did had been because of him, not because of his father and I just, I sympathised. What kind of person does that make me?”
“A good one.”
“I saw myself in him. The person I might have become if you hadn’t saved me,” he confessed, still watching his son.
Haley’s grip loosened. He realised what he had said.
“Aaron that wasn’t me. You saved yourself. You got out and you decided you were going to break the cycle. That was you. I just helped you along the way. Hey, look at me.”
He turned, tears in his eyes. Haley smiled, still as bright and good as the day they met. She took his hands and lifted them to her lips, placing a soft kiss to them before leaning past him and lifting Jack up. The baby stirred slightly, but did not wake, even when Haley handed him to Aaron.
“You won’t hurt him. Or me. You will never be like the people that you hunt down. I will die before that ever happens,” she said. There was such raw passion in her voice that the tears finally fell.
Haley would die before he hurt someone. And he had made a vow to her father the day they married that he would keep her safe, and a second the day he joined the FBI that if Haley were to die, it would not be because of his job.
“Thank you,” he whispered, putting Jack down so he could press a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” she said, like it was the easiest thing in the world for her to do. Because to her it was. She just wished he could understand that.
He didn’t know how to say the words. Not in the way that she needed. So instead he smiled, took one last look at his baby and walked away. He pretended to be fine because Haley shouldn’t have to worry about her. In reality, the moment she fell asleep, he went and checked the locks. Again.
The darkness shouldn’t have been able to creep in, but it did. It always did.
“I hope Morgan wasn’t too rough with you,” Gideon said, taking the seat opposite him.
Hotch looked at him. Gideon gave him that smile that never seemed to be aimed at him anymore. He sighed, fiddling with the pen he’d placed on the paperwork he hadn’t touched since boarding the jet. Talking to Abby’s son had been more painful than he’d expected, but somebody needed to do it. It was the least they could do for him.
“I’ve handled worse,” he replied.
Gideon hmmed at that. “That doesn’t mean you have to. I made you some tea. Herbal. Apparently it’s calming. You should drink it.”
Hotch stared at the mug like it was going to poison him. Then he carried on staring out the window. It was dark, and there wasn’t really much to see, but he couldn’t keep looking at the sympathy on Jason’s face. It made him feel sick. He wasn’t the one that had lost a father that day. He had just gotten too close, again, despite constantly telling everyone that wasn’t something they could do.
It was impossible to get the image of him burning to death out of his mind. Whilst he wanted to believe Abby’s death had been swift and painless, much like his own father’s heart attack, he knew that was impossible. He’d seen enough burn victims to know it took time for that happen. He wondered if, in those final moments, Abby regretted his decision.
“Hotch there was nothing we could have done to save him,” Gideon said gently. He wished Dave was still there. He would know what to say, what to do. Gideon had never had that relationship with Aaron. He liked to think he had that relationship with Spencer, but Aaron was different. He didn’t understand him.
“I should have stopped him. He should have had more time. If only so he could look at his son and tell him what was going on.”
Gideon tilted his head to the side. “Spencer mentioned that you had gone to see the family. Why didn’t you send JJ? She is our media liaison, that’s her job description, not yours.”
“JJ wouldn’t have understood. I had to go. It had to be me.” Hotch didn’t really know why he was telling Gideon any of this.
“It was your penance, wasn’t it? You think it’s your fault that he died, so you decided to make the fallout your responsibility. Hotch, you’re the Unit Chief now. The team look to you. You can’t tell them to do one thing and then do the exact opposite.”
He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to be SSA Hotchner, or even Hotch. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be Aaron, because even though Haley and Dave- the only people that used his first name- had always treated it like something precious, the ghost of his father made him think the only way it could be said was with disdain.
Even with his eyes closed, he knew Jason was watching him. He opened his eyes and turned slightly, watching the other members of the team. JJ and Emily were laughing at something that Morgan was saying. Reid was smiling. Hotch felt relieved. It had been far too long since Reid had smiled, and he knew he was the one to blame.
Jason followed his gaze. “They’ve all come so far, haven’t they? One day, they won’t even need us.”
That startled Hotch. His eyes met Gideon’s and he realised his mistake immediately.
“I see. It wasn’t just Abby you saw yourself in. It was his son. That’s why you went. You were compensating.”
“Please don’t profile me,” he whispered, knowing it was useless.
“I’m not. Now I know I’m no David Rossi or Haley Brooks, but I am here. However much you may not agree, I am.”
It was useless to say that he didn’t think that. Because he did, and it was written in the hesitance of his decisions. Of his constant watching. Of the pile of paperwork in his office that was meant to be Jason’s.
“I wanted- needed- to know who it was that my father had been having an affair because everyone, including my own mother, had known. But then he was diagnosed with cancer and all of that became irrelevant. I never got my answers, and it still hurts, even now.”
Nobody, not even Haley, knew about that. She obviously had her suspicions, and she knew about his lack of closure, but he had never properly told her.
Jason wasn’t saying anything. Hotch looked at him and saw that the other man was looking past him, not at him. He followed his gaze, and realised he was looking at Spencer. He swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled as Derek ruffled his hair.
He turned back, and saw that Jason was watching Spencer with the soft smile he had never managed to evoke. He blinked back tears. He missed Dave. He wanted Dave because Dave would know what to say to stop him feeling like such crap. Jason didn’t. Because Jason loved Spencer more than he loved Aaron, and Aaron couldn’t even fathom resenting either of them for that because it wasn’t either of their faults.
It was just a fact of life. But that didn’t mean it still didn’t sting when instead of replying, Gideon stood and went over to the other members of the team, intently listening to whatever it was Spencer was saying.
Haley would tell him to phone Dave. But he couldn’t disrupt his book tour like that. Instead, he kept staring out the window, trying to forget how beautiful the flames had looked against the darkness of the night or how deep down, he almost wished it had been him in there.
It was too close to the line between profiler and unsub.
He bottled up his emotions and hoped that Jason would stay. If not for him, then for Spencer. Because he couldn’t be that person. He was barely that person for Jack.
Jason did not stay. Neither did Haley. They both reached their breaking points and then Hotch pushed them too far.
Deep down, he knew the moment where they both decided they couldn’t take it anymore, the moment where they finally admitted to themselves that they deserved better and they took the steps to get there.
He just never expected they would happen on the same day. He supposed he’d bought that upon himself though. It was him that had said Jason was okay to return to work, for the purely selfish reason that he couldn’t do it alone even though he knew Gideon needed more time. It was him that had left on the case because Morgan had asked him to, even though Haley had asked him not to.
What kind of marriage was that? He didn’t know who had phoned. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know but there was no guarantee that Haley was having an affair. To suggest that she was would be cruel. It would only be because he didn’t want to have to take accountability for his part in the breakdown of their marriage.
It did take two to tango.
But where Jason took a piece of Spencer’s heart, Haley took the reason Hotch had never been able to stop hunting down monsters.
Morgan told him they would survive without Gideon. Hotch knew they would, but he wasn’t sure he could. Gideon’s departure, as much as he didn’t want to seem narcissistic, would reflect on him. He hadn’t saved him. He hadn’t been able to save his marriage- because Haley had done all she had and it had been his turn- and now the unsub’s last words were haunting his memory.
He had always taken pride in the fact that he was a difficult man to profile. A face schooled into a cautious look of neutrality, suits that hid the fact that he never seemed to have an appetite anymore. The only thing that ever gave away his nerves was the small hand thing he had never been able to stop doing.
For his own profession to be used against him in such a way, so soon after he had failed to save so many people- the six agents in Boston, Elle, Jason, Haley- was disarming. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do. Normally, he would’ve gone to the home where Haley would have left a light on for him. He would’ve watched his son sleep and just stared at him in awe. He would’ve pressed a kiss to Haley’s forehead before climbing into their bed and seeking her warmth. Maybe, if it had been too late to go home, he would’ve taken Jason to the piano night down at the bar.
But Haley had taken her warmth and the thing that made their house a home with her. All the rooms would be dark when he got back. Jack’s room would be empty. Their bed would be cold.
He hadn’t slept alone since college. It hurt, to wake up in the morning and not see Haley’s hair, messy and knotted.
He just didn’t want to be alone, but who was he supposed to tell?
“Reid. I’ll drop you home. It’s been a long few days,” he said.
Everyone else had left. Reid looked up with wide eyes. He looked so painfully young, and Hotch felt a slight pain in his stomach. What was this job doing to him? Spencer deserved better than sleepless nights and painful memories that would never be forgotten. Hotch guessed that one day, Spencer would be added to the list of people he had failed to save.
In some ways, he already was.
“I can go myself,” Spencer mumbled.
“Reid. Let me do this. Please,” Hotch said.
Spencer nodded. “Okay.”
They left, the car far too silent for either of them to be comfortable. Hotch wanted to debate something intellectual, if only to soothe Spencer’s nerves, but the words classic narcissist still left a bitter taste in his mouth. And his mind had gone completely blank regarding anything else.
“We’ve driven past the turning. The route that you’re now going down would mean that getting to my apartment would take an hour extra.”
Hotch kept his eyes on the road, subtly checking that the car doors were locked. “You’re coming home with me. I don’t think you should go home alone.”
Reid turned to face him properly. “I don’t need you to treat me like a child. I get enough of that from everyone else. Gideon left me with a letter, just like my dad. He’s not going to come back and rationally, I have to accept that, because refusal to do so won’t change anything.”
“Maybe. But you should know better than anyone that we can’t control our brains.”
He realised the moment the words left his mouth that it wasn’t the right thing to say, and he immediately regretted them. What Reid thought he was trying to imply was definitely not what he was, but the words had come out wrong and now Reid was going to hate him too.
“I do. Know that. Don’t need you reminding me.”
He sounded just like Jack. Hotch swallowed. “I know. I’m sorry, that came out badly. What I meant was that you’re allowed to feel like you’re being irrational. Missing Gideon is a valid emotion, regardless of the way he left us. You. I meant you.”
They were stuck at a red light.
“Hotch, why haven’t you transferred?” Reid asked suddenly.
He shifted slightly. “My reason for doing it is no longer a thing.”
Reid frowned, and Hotch hit the gas.
“Oh,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. Is it our fault?”
Hotch shook his head. “Haley and I made our decisions. It was never anyone else’s problem, and it is most certainly not your fault.”
Reid wasn’t convinced.
“I don’t want to be alone right now,” he blurted out. “That’s why I’m taking you to the house. Because I can’t be alone and I need to feel like I’m doing something to help someone otherwise, what is the point in all of this?”
“This is about what the unsub said, isn’t it?”
They hadn’t had a conversation like this in so long. Not since before Hankel, his brain supplied.
“It’s true though, isn’t it? I failed to help Elle. I failed to help you, and Jason and Haley and god knows who else,” he said.
Spencer looked at him, chin tilted “You said: Haley and I made our decisions. It was never anyone else’s problem, and it is most certainly not your fault. How is this any different?”
Hotch sighed. “I had a responsibility to the other members of my team because I am meant to be their leader. You, on the other hand, are still just a kid, who has no connection whatsoever to my marriage.”
“I may be young, but I am in no way a child. And no, I didn’t have any connection to your marriage but I still don’t get your point. Elle and Gideon made their decisions of their own free will and there is nothing anyone could’ve done to stop them because when somebody is that determined to do something, they will always find a way.”
They’d pulled into the driveway. Hotch still hadn’t adjusted to the curtains still being open, for everyone to see and it took a moment to adjust to the darkness. The porch light hadn’t been on for a while, yet it was still a shock to the system. Haley’s light was just another thing he had taken for granted.
“When did you get so smart?” Hotch whispered. In some ways, he felt like he had watched as Spencer had grown from the new agent, doubting his worth and his abilities, to the slightly more confident that he had a family man that was now sat next to him. He hoped Spencer never lost his softness, or the things that made him the person he was, for there was nothing sadder.
“Hotch, I’ve always been smart. When Gideon returned after Boston, you introduced me as your expert on everything and then I told the man we were interviewing that I have an IQ of 187.”
“Never change Spencer.”
“I wouldn’t know how.”
There was a short silence.
“Would you stay the night?” Hotch asked.
“I thought that was what you wanted.”
“It is. But I want this to be your decision. If you’d rather be alone, then I will take you to your apartment and we’ll never speak about it again.”
They sat for a few minutes, and Hotch resisted the urge to tell Spencer to hurry up.
“I think I’ll stay the night,” he finally decided, voice small.
Hotch breathed a sigh of relief, not even caring that the house was still littered with small traces of Haley and the life they had spent together.
The two of them ate in relative silence, and then Hotch set them both up in the living room. He wanted- needed- to keep an eye on Spencer, but he told him that when Haley and him bought their first apartment and started living together, they would camp out in the living room because there was nobody to tell them not to.
He left out the part where it was also because Aaron had never really been allowed to sit wherever he wanted and do whatever he felt like.
There was some old documentary about the Russian Revolution in the background. Spencer had fallen asleep, his head in Hotch’s lap. Without even realising, Hotch had started stroking his hair, much like he used to do for Jack.
The light in the living room was on, and not once did Spencer wake. Hotch made them both breakfast- pancakes, because the look of joy when he said he probably had all the ingredients was not one he wanted to destroy- and Spencer gave him a genuine smile.
Neither of them spoke of it again, but Hotch felt a little lighter. A little bit more like the Aaron Haley had fallen in love with again. Maybe he couldn’t save everyone, but he saved Spencer, and even if it was only a little, and well after he should’ve, at least he had done it.
That would be enough to keep the darkness out, if only for a little bit.
Megan Kane died and Aaron- not Hotch, because Hotch would say that you can’t take cases personally, no matter how much you wanted to, held her hand. He held her hand as she said thank you for staying and not leaving. He didn’t have the words to tell her that he didn’t walk away for selfish reasons. Because he couldn’t have her considering him to be the same as the other men she’d killed.
Not after everything she’d done. The chip was safely tucked away in his pocket, just waiting to be passed on.
Even when her chest stopped rising, he refused to let go, only doing so when the police kicked the already open door to her room in, guns raised. When they stepped onto the balcony, he dropped her hand, watching as it fell limply. He didn’t know how long he had been sat there, but it was long enough for the body to go cold.
“Agent Hotchner. We need you to provide a statement. You were the only person present when she died,” the lead detective said.
Aaron stood, suddenly so angry at everything and everyone. “She took the pills and gave me the card. And then she asked me to stay so I did. Then she died. What more do you need than that?”
He didn’t want to tell them what she’d said. It was stupid, but it felt private.
He stormed out the room before they could respond and stepped into the elevator with a heavy heart.
Both Dave and Emily tried to make him feel better the whole way home. It was all to no avail. Their attempts to comfort him went over like a lead balloon. The only indication he’d even heard them was the slight clench of his jaw and his adamant stare out the window, his report on the table, only the first sentence written. When Dave tried to crack a joke, Hotch glared and he backed off.
Emily sat by him. Whilst her general presence usually never failed to make him feel a little better, it was just irritating him. He didn’t want to talk to any of them. He didn’t want them walking on eggshells. He wanted them to just leave him.
But then he felt bad. Because the one person he wanted had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want anything to do with his job, and the rest were just trying to be there for him and that should’ve been enough for him.
When they got to the office, he did something he’d only done a few times before. He put the files on his desk and then he exited it. He needed to see his son. He needed to go to his real home- because now Haley was living in the house, it felt like a home again.
Haley had responded to his message about coming by with a simple: Ok. He still felt wrong profiling her, so he didn’t.
She had changed the locks. He didn’t have the key. And so he was stood there, awkwardly waiting for her to open the door whilst he rubbed circles with his thumb over the spot where his wedding ring had previously been. The tan line had all but faded. He felt pathetic for still reaching for it sometimes.
She opened the door. “There’s a birthday party that he’s been excited about for- you’re wearing a case suit.”
“I’m- what?”
She frowned. “Why are you wearing a case suit?”
“A case suit?”
“Yes. There are suits that you would only ever wear when you were on a case because they could be washed a lot more easily, and if you got blood on them, well you weren’t attached to them. How were you not aware of this?”
“I guess it was a subconscious thing. Look, we just landed but I-” he saw Jack peeking his head around the door.
On reflex, he crouched down. He remembered how he had felt when he was younger and his father would come storming in, towering over him, terrifying and threatening. He never wanted Jack to feel like that. And so he knelt down, burying his head in Jack’s neck for a moment before letting go.
“Hi buddy. How are you feeling?”
Jack stopped smiling. “I accidentally made mommy annoyed because I drew on the wall. But then she said that sometimes people feel bad emotions and that’s okay, you just need to be good about it. And then once we cleaned it up, she said that I’m not a bad kid, I just did a wrong thing.”
Hotch felt tears prick the back of his eyes. Haley was so good. Too good.
“She’s right. One act doesn’t determine who you are,” he said, voice cracking.
“Jack, mommy and daddy need to go and talk in the kitchen, so just stay in the living room, okay?”
Jack nodded.
Hotch followed Haley, noticing the last photo that was taken of the three of them before the divorce- although at the time nobody knew- was still stuck to the fridge.
“Tell me what happened,” she whispered.
Aaron turned away. “That’s not your job anymore.”
“Baby,” she said.
He closed his eyes. When was the last time somebody had called him that?
“I know what I said then. Trust me, there’s no way I could ever forget. But I was wrong. This is who you are. And I never should’ve asked you to change. I think the divorce was the best thing for both of us, because it was needed. But I still love you. And I know you won’t tell the team. So tell me.”
And he did. He told her everything. “The worst part is, she was right. I should be here every week, but Jack’s lucky if I’m here every fortnight. Haley, I always said I didn’t want to become a father because of how he hurt me. What kind of father am I if Jack is going to say the same thing?”
For a while Haley did not speak. They were just stood, a good six feet between them. And then she threw her arms around him. The force of her touch threw him off balance. When was the last time anyone had actually touched him? If he was struggling to remember, then it must’ve been far too long.
The smell of her shampoo felt like coming home and before he knew what was happening, he could taste the salt of his tears.
She stroked his hair and he relaxed into the touch, despite all the knots. He had always hated brushing his hair but loved when Haley would run her hands through it. She messed it up as he sobbed into her shoulder, and not for the first time, she wondered how many more times he could stare into the depths of depravity and come back whole.
Although, she thought to herself bitterly, he’d never been given the chance to be whole in the first place.
At some point, they’d started sitting on the kitchen floor. She was still playing with his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.”
“You don’t need to be. And I will spend the rest of my life convincing you of that.”
Aaron looked at her with such love in his eyes that she could not resist the urge to press a soft kiss to his forehead before tugging him closer.
“Sleep here. I’ll take Jack to the party, and you can rest. Do that paperwork that’s in your office. And maybe tomorrow, we can all go for ice cream.”
His eyes widened. They were so soft and warm that Haley had never understood how he managed to glare at anyone. Apart from the people that had offered their sympathies at his father’s funeral, despite fully well knowing the truth.
“Really?”
“Yeah Aaron. Really. Now go upstairs and rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She was, and it was like she had burst into his life in an explosion of light all over again.
Then George Foyet took that light and snuffed it out.
Haley once said she would die before Aaron hurt another person the way his father had hurt him. She said it because her death was so unlikely. It was an event that they knew would one day occur, but they never really thought about it. Though it was morbid, Aaron’s death was the one they had to prepare for. He was the one charging after dangerous criminals on a weekly basis. Haley was teaching.
Nothing bad was ever supposed to happen to her because he had promised, with everything he was, that he would keep her safe and that the horrors of his job would never touch her.
But he hadn’t been quick enough.
And now she was dead.
George Foyet had surrendered. He had surrendered willingly and without coercion, but Hotch hadn’t listened. He had carried on, even though his duty was to stop. To carry out a lawful arrest. But he hadn’t. He had carried on hitting a man that would not have been able to defend himself. Deep down he knew that was unfair to say. Foyet was taunting him by saying he was giving up.
Still, his knuckles ached. Morgan had pulled him off the body and he hadn’t been able to look. He couldn’t do it. So many things had already been destroyed by him. There was already so much blood on his hands, if he looked at Foyet he would never recover.
He was worse than his father. At least his father was a human. At least his father had never touched Sean. His father had never- to his knowledge- even attempted to beat his mother to death. But he had. He had beaten a man to death, and the worst part was, he would do it all again.
He would do it again because at least Jack was alive. Scared and confused, but alive. Hotch knew that if Jack had been the one to die, then he wouldn’t be here. He would’ve let Foyet kill him and vanish, as selfish as it was, because a life without his son was not one he wanted to live. After he found Haley, he knew he needed to consider the worst scenario: that Jack had not understood.
When Foyet told him that he would find Jack and show him his dead parents, something in him found the strength to survive. If Foyet was saying he would find Jack, then that would mean that he hadn’t already done so. Which meant Jack must’ve understood and was just waiting for his dad to come find him.
It was when Jack told him about how he had worked the case that the knowledge that Haley was dead hit him like a tonne of bricks. The first time he had found him, Jack had ran out and told his Mom what him and Daddy were doing together. Haley had smiled fondly before coming into the room, staring out the window instead of the desk.
Hotch had told her it was just a budget report. She looked down and did indeed see the budget sheet. But under that was the profile for a man who had recently lost his wife and was going after blonde mothers that resembled her.
There was blood all over his shirt and hands. Jack didn’t need to see that. The part of his brain not occupied with Haley knew that JJ was the best person for him to be with. She was good with children and had dealt with enough children of victims to know what to say and what to avoid.
Victims. Because that was what Haley had become. A victim of a serial killer and it was all his fault.
If he had just been quicker. If he had taken the deal. If he had transferred when Haley asked him to. They probably would have still ended up divorcing, but she would be alive. Jack would have a real parent. One that could look at him without turning away. Haley’s blood was on his hands, and every time he looked at Jack, he saw her. Because Jack had his mother’s light hair and kind eyes.
The day Aaron died- and god that couldn’t come fast enough- would be the day that the last piece of his father finally left the earth.
Haley’s hair was dark. That was the first thing he noticed when he saw her, lying on the ground. He’d heard people say that when someone died, you could kid yourself into thinking that they were just sleeping because they would look so peaceful.
Haley’s mouth was a thin line. She smiled when she was sleeping. Her clothes were not the ones she would have picked herself. Her eyes were still open. Aaron hated that she died alone and afraid. That should’ve been him. And her hair was dark. He cursed himself for being surprised. Of course it was dark. She’d gone into WitSec.
It just felt like a visual representation of everything he’d taken from her. Her light and innocence had been destroyed and it was all his fault. He hadn’t even told her Sam Kassmeyer was dead, which was such a stupid thing to fixate on, but anything to take away from the fact that she was gone.
When he pulled her limp, unmoving body towards him, needing to feel her against him one more time, she was still a little warm and he almost vomited right there. How close had they been that she wasn’t cold? He didn’t let go till Emily gently touched her shoulder, leading him away from the body.
The team were shielding him from the various people that had responded to the scene and if he had more energy, he would say thank you. But he was tired. And his hands hurt so much. They were still trembling.
Jack leant into his touch like it was nothing and Hotch marvelled at the fact that he seemed to adjust like it was nothing. He knew it was because he didn’t understand, but after everything that had been lost that day- two lives, a piece of Aaron, a place that was once home, the brightest light he’d ever met, Jack’s chance for a normal life- it felt like a win.
Before he knew it, the funeral was being held. He’d planned his eulogy, writing it whilst watching Jack because he couldn’t sleep without seeing the steady rise and fall of his son’s chest. There were a hundred different copies in the bin. How was he supposed to get up in front of everyone that looked to him and expected him to lead, and talk about Haley had made him feel safe?
Attending Haley’s funeral hurt more than either of his parents had. He wasn’t sure if that made him a terrible person. But when his father had died, he’d been relieved. Not happy, but maybe a little grateful. And when his mother had died, Haley had been stood next to him, her grip on his hand grounding him.
This time, she was the one in the ground. And the only person grounding him was a little boy, so much like Sean- not quite understanding, but aware enough to know the person they loved wasn’t coming home.
He held it together through his speech. Jessica gave him a soft smile before she took his place, reciting her own eulogy. Haley’s mother wasn’t able to attend because she was too unwell so her father recited both their speeches, voice cracking and tears streaming down his face.
It showed just how broken he was. No self-respecting Southern man would ever be able to shed tears that freely.
“Thank you for saying something,” Jessica said to him when they were all sat down. The team were far away enough to not hear, and he suspected that was why she had finally spoken to him.
“Jessie, this is all my fault. It was the least I could do. And I promise, I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you. To all of you.”
She let out a watery laugh. “Jessie. It’s been so long since you’ve called me that. Aar, I don’t blame you. I can’t. Because you did everything you could. I know that. And I heard you up there. You loved her. But you didn’t kill her. In fact, she’d kill me if I suggested such a thing. So forgive yourself. The rest of us have.”
“Jessica, why would you say something like that?” Roy shouted.
Jess flinched, unaware that her father had overheard everything.
Aaron shrunk down in his seat, unable to meet Roy’s eyes.
“You got my daughter killed. I trusted you. Even when nobody else did, when everybody said only bad things happened where Aaron Hotchner got involved, I trusted you. And when those people blamed you for what happened to your mother, I defended you. Because I knew you were a good man that would keep my daughter safe.”
“Dad, now is not the time,” Jessica said quietly.
“Yes it is! Yes. It is. My baby is dead, and it is all your fault. You promised me this would never happen. You swore. When your marriage died, I thought to myself: these things happen. They were young when they fell in love, perhaps they just grew up. But this- everything that has happened today? That’s on you. This is your fault. I wish it was you in the ground!”
Hotch flinched. “Roy, I-”
“It’s Mr Brooks to you now Hotchner. I treated you like a son. I- Haley did everything for you. Why weren’t you fast enough?”
And wasn’t that the million dollar question? Why had he not been fast enough?
“Dad, I know you are angry, but Aaron is not the person to be taking it out on! Just because he’s here and it is convenient does not make it right. Haley loved him until the very last moment. Shouldn’t that be enough to be good to him?”
Aaron just wanted everyone to stop shouting.
“She didn’t love him at the very last moment! How could she, after everything he put her through?”
“It is Hotchner going on the gravestone, not Brooks,” Jessica snapped.
Both Roy and Aaron stared at her. Neither of them had known about that, and she immediately paled, as though she’d revealed something she wasn’t meant to.
“What?” Roy spat.
“Haley called mom in the middle of the night in a panic. Said that if, somehow, this Foyet managed to find them, or if something happened, she wanted Hotchner to be on her gravestone because she loved Aaron.”
Roy’s hands were clenched at his sides and Aaron swallowed, subconsciously bracing himself for the blow that never came.
“I won’t do that to you. Ever. You may not be my son anymore, but I still would not harm you.”
Hotch exhaled, but Roy walked away before he could say anything. And the team got called away on a case.
“Did she really say that?” he asked Jessica, when it was just the two of them and their mugs of coffee. Jack had gone to sleep.
Jessica tore her gaze away from the carpet. Derek had done an incredible job of making it seem like nothing happened, but she now knew better and the thought of what had gone down made her sick. She wished she could convince Aaron to move, but she knew it would never work.
“Jess?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. She did. I was going to say something to you earlier but it completely slipped my mind. I hope that’s okay with you.”
He nodded. Of course it would be okay with him. Whatever Haley had wanted from him, he would give her. It would be too little too late, but it would still be something. Maybe it would lead to Roy’s forgiveness.
It was that line of reasoning that led to him almost accepting retirement, because what else was he meant to do? But then Jessica had offered to take Jack, saying it was the least she could do and that it wouldn’t be any trouble and he had been confused.
The gravestone hadn’t been placed yet, but he still knew where she was buried. That surprised him, because now that he thought about it, he couldn’t really remember the actual funeral. He just remembered Roy’s words. Aaron found himself talking to the air in a way he never had before, and by the time Dave found him, he’d made his decision.
Jack needed a father that could teach him how to move on and be happy. Aaron needed the team to be happy. Jessica had given her blessing, and maybe it was psychological, but everything felt a little warmer after he told his best friend that Haley already knew.
It didn’t mean he was confident that he was making the right choice. It was ridiculous, but he was terrified of how the team would respond. What if they thought he was making the wrong choice?
But on his first day in the office, they all treated him normally. Like nothing had changed. And for that, he was grateful. Emily was- as always- the only one aside from Dave with the self-destructive streak to make a comment.
Although it wasn’t the one he’d been expecting.
“I’m glad you came back,” she told him as he packed up his things to go.
There was a look in her eyes that told him she was being genuine. Her approval, deep down, meant more to him than everyone else’s, including Dave. For her to come in and say that she was happy he was there and leading the team meant more to him than he would ever be able to say. It also showed how far they had come. She had gone from insulting him every other sentence to wanting him around. He had gone from not trusting her to only being able to tell her the truth about what had really happened in his apartment.
“Thank you for letting me,” he said. If she had wanted it, she could have taken his job, no question. She wouldn’t- Derek was obviously the next Unit Chief- but she could have.
She smiled. “You keep us all safe, Aaron. How could I not?”
Emily’s hair was dark. As were her eyes. And there was a darkness that surrounded her in a similar way to him. He wasn’t sure where it came from. But she had learnt to live with hers. She had turned it into something beautiful that made people love her.
Perhaps he could do the same. Perhaps the darkness was something to welcome, not fear.
Emily Prentiss died, alone and cold, three times in one night. She died once when she told Derek Morgan to let her go because she genuinely believed Ian Doyle was still there, just waiting to hurt the people that had become her family. She flatlined in the ambulance, and Aaron had to watch as they frantically tried to revive her.
They succeeded in doing so, but at what cost?
She died a third time when Hotch had to make the decision as to whether or not she stayed. He wanted to scream at the bureau and say that it couldn’t be left to him because it was Emily’s life and if she wanted to stay and fight then she should.
But they would interpret his screaming and pleading as weakness. They would use it to deem him incapable of impartiality and then he would never know what happened. So instead of crying the way he wanted to, he kept his face neutral and argued all the reasons that Agent Prentiss- not Emily, not now- needed to be sent away and saved.
They went for it, and the prosecutor within him should have been proud. But it wasn’t. He was just tired.
Emily did not know that he had been in the ambulance and seen her die. She didn’t know that she had told him, whilst she was fading in and out of consciousness, about the darkness that she had seen and the chill that had come over her when she realised that she was dying or that he knew she wanted to believe in a better ending.
But Aaron did. It was why he found it so difficult to tell her what was happening. But he was already asking too much of JJ. JJ who was supposed to be a liaison for the state department and nothing more. But there was a haunted look in her eyes, and he so desperately wanted to comfort her, but there just wasn’t time.
He needed to save Emily before it was too late. Or maybe it already was too late. Maybe she would have survived if his own darkness hadn’t joined hers. Maybe if he’d been quicker in getting JJ or working out what had happened.
The moment he saw his own smiling face staring up at him, he should have known what was happening. But he hadn’t. And now yet another person’s blood was on his hands. When would it end? When would the people he loved stop being hurt by a darkness that should have only ever destroyed him?
His father once said the only thing he was good at was destroying beautiful things. Aaron had so desperately wanted to prove him wrong that he only succeeded in proving him right. Emily Prentiss had once been beautiful and good. One of the strongest and most resilient women he knew.
Hotch wasn’t stupid. He saw the way JJ looked at her. That was the other reason he had to be the one to tell her. Because he had seen Jason in the aftermath of the Boston bombing and Elle after she shot the rapist. He knew what Spencer’s anger and Derek’s fear looked like. He had seen the worst of each of his team members and never faltered because their darkness was nothing compared to his.
The Emily laying on that bed, broken and damaged beyond what any normal person should have been able to survive, was not the Emily they knew and Hotch was not going to let it be the Emily that JJ would remember. He would let JJ go with her to Paris because she would be stronger then.
That would be the Emily she would remember.
“Emily? Can you hear me?” he asked as quietly as he could.
She turned slightly, but even that small movement seemed to cause her pain. She opened her mouth to speak and winced.
“Don’t talk. You’re still too weak to do that. I just, I need to tell you what’s going to happen, okay? Because a lot of things are going to change and I want you to know exactly how this is going to play out.”
His hands were shoved in his pockets. One of them needed to be strong and pretend that everything was going to be okay, and it sure as hell couldn’t be her. But she saw and tried to motion to him. He shook his head. Soon she would be leaving him, and he did not want to remember her touch as being cold and almost lifeless. He wanted to remember her touch as being warm and comforting.
Without looking at her, he told her how they were sending her to Paris. His voice did not tremble and he did not break but he couldn’t face her when he was done talking. Instead, he stared at the floor and focused on the white tiles.
“I hate you,” she whispered. “How can you do this to me? I do not want to be sent to Paris whilst everyone else tries to deal with this.”
“Em. I’m trying to do the right thing,” he pleaded. He couldn’t have her hating him. Not after everything that had happened between them, and certainly not everything they had both done to gain the others trust.
“The right thing would have been to let me die,” she hissed.
He closed his eyes and it was only a few days earlier. He had told Clyde Easter that if anything happened to her, he would destroy him. The knowledge that he could do it without even flinching should have terrified him, but it didn’t. In some morbid way, it relaxed him.
When he turned his back, the knowledge that he had disarmed the other man bought him more joy than it should have, and again he was reminded of how thin the line between profiler and unsub really was.
“Mr Hotchner,” Clyde had called out.
Hotch had frozen, hands clenched at his side. How many years had it been since someone last called him that? And yet he still couldn’t hear the title without thinking of his father. He was an adult now, the man shouldn’t have held that influence over him but he was still terrified and he hated himself for it.
He’d turned, just enough so he could see Clyde’s face.
“I did my part. If she dies, that’s on you.”
And it was. It was all his fault. She had trusted him to keep them safe, but he had failed. Again. He had destroyed her, just like he had destroyed so many other good people. He didn’t deserve to be a coward anymore, so he looked up and met her eyes.
Weak and damaged as she was, she still managed to glare with a hatred he had only ever seen once. When she had been a college student, arguing with her mother. And he’d been both terrified and relieved to see that she could be so ruthless. Terrified because to him, she was just a girl and she shouldn’t have known how to hate like that, but relieved because he wasn’t the only one with such potential for darkness inside.
He left without another word. JJ had comforted Reid and Garcia because he had been too busy throwing up the single bite of sandwich he’d managed to choke down. And he knew something had happened to her whilst she was working for the Pentagon. He knew she wouldn’t be able to stay.
It was why he let her take Emily to Paris. He didn’t tell her what Emily had said to him. He just told her to ask if she could remember anything from the hospital. He spent the entire time waiting for her to respond. He was talking to Dave when there was a text from JJ. All it said was she doesn’t remember anything she said.
And it became slightly easier to breathe.
The funeral was difficult.
First thing in the morning, he had dropped Jack off with Jessica. Jack did not know it was a funeral that his father was attending, and so he was quite content to just sit in the living room and play with his toys whilst Aaron and Jessica stood in the hallway, talking in hushed whispers.
“Don’t you think he should go?” she had asked.
Hotch shook his head. “No. He already went to Haley’s. I can’t take him to Emily’s.”
“But he should be able to say goodbye to her.”
“Jessie, please. I can’t tell you why, but he can’t go to the funeral and I swear, as soon as I can, I will tell you everything but he just- I need him to not be there.”
She stared at him. “Aaron, you never need to beg for anything from me. I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, you’ll be fine. I promise.”
Jessica didn’t understand that him and JJ were the only one that knew the coffin was empty. It was the second coffin in a year that Aaron was forced to stand beside. When did it end? When would the members of his team stop losing the people they loved?
Ashley Seaver was a child and he never should have let her stay on the team after that first case. She was meant to be a training agent, who was supposed to believe that her job would make a difference and protect people from a life like the one she had been forced to live. And yet here she was, stood at the grave of a team member whilst the rest fell apart. Hotch wanted her to remain good and hopeful, but he just didn’t know how to do that.
In some ways, he resented JJ. She was able to go back to the Pentagon and get away from the looks of her coworkers. She didn’t have to look out of her office and see the empty table that had once been Emily’s, nor did she have to go through the drawers of her desk and decide what would be kept and what would be thrown.
Aaron ended up keeping everything in a box at his apartment because he didn’t have the heart to throw anything away. Not when Emily wasn’t really dead, even though her photo was still hung up outside.
He needed to talk to someone, but there was nobody. So, he ran off to Afghanistan for three months working on a project he didn’t fully understand or see the point in. The guilt at leaving his team and Jack only slightly overshadowed the relief he had that nobody looked at him and seeked comfort. They just needed him to do a job.
Everybody else had grieved losing Emily. JJ had her closure for making sure she was settled in Paris, and from what Hotch could understand, she had been pushing the boundary as much as she could regarding the no communication rule. The team had each other, but he had nobody.
Then Ian Doyle died, and Emily Prentiss came back to them, but he didn’t come back to the team. Not really. For Derek was able to forgive Emily for what she did because the relief he felt at her return was enough to overpower his anger at her. Dave had suspected the whole time. Spencer was just glad that he hadn’t lost someone else, and that JJ had also been returned to them.
They could forgive JJ because it had never been her decision to leave them. They could forgive Emily because of everything she had been through and because she had no say in what was done to her.
It was Hotch that had failed to stop the move from happening. It was him that had made the decision to fake Emily’s death and not tell the team. He had chosen to leave them, and his son, for the summer. Yes, it was unfair to blame him, and it was likely his hands had been tied, but they were angry. They needed someone to direct that anger towards.
Every time they snapped at JJ or Emily, it felt like kicking a puppy for they would just look so hurt and upset that they immediately wanted to apologise. But if they shouted at Aaron, he would just take it. He wouldn’t argue or defend himself. He just took it, the ghosts behind his eyes not ones they could acknowledge in the moment.
He maintained his façade and pretended everything was okay because if he wasn’t okay, the team would have no use for him and he would become dispensable and there would be nothing left for him. Except for Jack. But he wasn’t sure how much he wanted Jack to see him. Since Emily’s return, his nightmares had gotten worse and he woke up screaming more times than he cared to admit.
And then one night, when Jack was staying with his cousins and grandfather, the nightmares got so bad that he barely managed to make it to the bathroom before he was vomiting up the meagre dinner he’d eaten.
When there was nothing left, he leant against the bathtub and sobbed. His own team hated him and there was nothing he could do because they were right. He didn’t trust them and he had fucked up so badly there was no redemption for him.
Jessica hadn’t been able to sleep. She had let herself into the apartment to see how Aaron was because there was a pit in her stomach, like something was terribly wrong.
“Aaron?” she called out.
There was no response, which on the one hand could have been a good thing because it would mean he was sleeping, but it could also mean he was refusing to speak to anyone. She wasn’t an idiot. When Emily had come to see Jack after that hearing thing because she needed something good, Aaron told her the truth. And then lied by saying he was fine after carrying that burden around himself.
The bedroom was empty. She told herself it didn’t mean anything, that he could just be in the shower or getting a glass of water. She crept along to the bathroom. Inside, he was vomiting and she knew it would eventually turn into sobs.
Without considering what she was doing, she dialled Derek Morgan’s number. He’d given it to her at the funeral and asked her to keep him safe. She had done her job as his sister, and now it was time for his team to their job as his family.
“Jessica?”
“Aaron’s sick and I think it’s your fault,” she said without thinking.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh god, no, not like that. I just- he’s being sick and I know that it’s because he’s been bottling everything up since the funeral which wasn’t really a funeral but oh, you know what I mean. I just- nothing I do will make him feel better. He needs you. All of you.”
On the other side of the line, Derek scoffed. “Jessica, Hotch is strong. Are you sure he’s not just got food poisoning or something?”
“I don’t think he’s eaten enough for that to happen.”
“Look Jessica, I’ll get the team together but I don’t know what you want us to do. Hotch made his decisions, and we can’t forgive him at the drop of a hat. We all need time to process.”
“Derek! He lost his wife to this job, are you really going to stand by as he loses himself trying to save all of you? I have never asked for anything from any of you, but Aaron needs you now. He’s just too scared of rejection to admit it.”
“We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Morgan hung up and Jessica sighed.
“Jessie?” Aaron called out.
“Hey Aaron. What happened?” she asked, acting like nothing had happened.
“I don’t feel good,” he whispered.
She pressed a hand to his stomach. Damn him and his emotional constipation that meant all of his pain manifested physically.
“I know. I know. But it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll get you cleaned up and then you’re going to eat something.”
He nodded and let her move him around as she pleased. The weight he had lost made her cringe. The last time he had looked so weak, he was seventeen and his father was dying of lung cancer.
The team all arrived at the same time, all in their pyjamas.
Aaron saw them and turned away. “Jessie, what are they doing here?”
“You need them Aaron. Whether you want to admit it or not, you need them.”
He shook his head as the medication Jessica had made him take after weeks of avoidance caused his filter to vanish and fuzziness as to what he was doing. “Don’t deserve them.”
“Yeah you do man. I’m sorry for how I was acting. I know you trust us and I never thought about how everything must have made you feel because I was angry,” Derek said.
Hotch shook his head, tears running down his cheeks.
“Can I hug you?” Derek asked.
Hotch didn’t respond, so Derek sat in front of him instead. “You’re forgiven Hotch. I promise.”
Hotch just stared but relaxed ever so slightly and didn’t protest when the other members of the team gave him small smiles or hugged him.
And the next day, they spoke to him, not as a boss, but as their friend. For the first time in a while, he felt like he was back where he belonged. Things weren’t perfect- they never were- but he no longer felt like the villain in his own story.
He felt like he was worthy of a small amount of love, which meant the darkness had not won. Not completely.
There were cases that were difficult. There were cases that made him want to quit, or curl into a ball and forget about how the outside world existed and was constantly hurt innocent people that didn’t deserve it. And there were cases that he knew would haunt him until the day he died.
Watching Jimmy lose his fight, the one thing that kept him going, just so he would be able to see his son one last time was something he would keep seeing every time he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about how he was the first one to realise that was what he wanted.
The team had all been waiting in various places, and he knew it wasn’t really what he was supposed to be doing, but when he looked into the man’s eyes, he saw a desperate father. And he thought of Jack. If it were Jack, he would do whatever it took to see him one last time. He deserved to see his son. And his son deserved a father.
Because when he looked at Jimmy he did not see the unsub his team had been after. He saw a broken and damaged man that was doing what it took to survive. Under normal circumstances, he’d been frightened by that but so much had happened that he almost felt desensitised when it came to relating to unsubs. His hands still went cold at the sight of every crime scene he visited. The bureau therapist would say the fact that he clung to that feeling both at home and in the field was unhealthy, but the bureau therapist had also deemed Jason, Elle, Spencer, himself and Emily fit for work after their respective ordeals.
“This isn’t a trick is it? Because you’re a federal agent, this isn’t your job,” he said.
“I’m a father first. And your son is holding on so he can say goodbye to you. I’m not so heartless that I would deprive you of a goodbye.”
He pressed a hand to his mouth. “He’s really going to- I can’t even bring myself to say the word. Am I a horrible person for not being here sooner?”
Hotch still blamed himself for not being there when his mother died. “No. No you did your best and you cannot think like that. I promise, when it came to your son, you have done nothing wrong. I’ll give you some privacy.” He hated to add the second part but he had to. “And I don’t want to, but you must understand-”
“I broke the law and you need to arrest me. I know. That’s fine. Everything will be fine because you have let me say goodbye to my baby.”
Aaron watched them through the window, a single tear coursing down his cheek as that was all he would allow himself until he made it home.
Sometimes, it was not the cases that made him question the reason behind doing any of this, but these moments where there was nothing that anyone could have done. They spent so much time putting bad guys away, and for what? The universe to just throw other tragedies in people’s faces.
Ryan closed his eyes at the same time that Aaron looked away. The raw grief both parents were feeling was something personal. He already felt like an intruder. He saw the man comfort his wife, who’s sobs had died down to silent tears as she placed a final kiss to her boy’s forehead.
They comforted each other.
Aaron wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t saved Jack from George Foyet. If he would still be alive now, or if he would have just let Foyet kill him because a life without Jack was not one he was capable of surviving. He wondered if Haley had survived instead, would they have been able to comfort each other, or would she blame him for the loss of her son? If Jack hadn’t survived, Hotch did not want to think of what his response would have been because the darkness of it scared him.
No parent should ever have to bury their child, and no child should ever have to be that strong for their parent. He admired Ryan for holding on for as long as he did, but he shouldn’t have had to. He should have been playing games with the other children and worrying about his favourite cartoon characters, not how many breaths he had left.
He stood outside for longer than he should have and he was gentler with the handcuffs than he ever remembered being. The last words he whispered were an apology that Jimmy did not want. Before he returned to the hotel, he stopped to see his wife.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “And if I knew what to say, I would. But I don’t so please, just, find a reason to hold on. Anything.”
“Agent Hotchner, you gave my son the one thing he wanted. A chance to say goodbye to both his parents. That has to be enough for now.” She hugged him and was polite enough to not comment on how his own body shook with the tears he was unable to repress.
He gave her his card, and then he left her, alone, to process her losses.
On board the jet, he sat slightly apart from the rest of them, which they all took as their cue to leave him alone. Emily Prentiss had never liked listening to him, and so she took the seat opposite him. Hotch had to smile. That was the woman he knew. Not the one that was overcompensating for everything.
“I made you a cup of tea,” she said to him.
Hotch looked down at the mug and grimaced slightly.
“Jason did the same thing after the case with the serial arsonist. Do you remember? He was trying to get me to open up about how I related to the unsub.”
“Did you?”
Hotch shook his head, then hesitated. “Well, I suppose I did a little. He wasn’t really paying attention.”
Emily made a non-committal sound at that. “Look I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
He shook his head. “No. I can’t. Ryan just- he didn’t even look like Jack, but when I saw him, I just- they were a normal couple. They didn’t deserve to lose him like that.”
“Nobody deserves to lose someone they love that much like that. But they do. And we can’t stop that. What we can do is stop the bad guys who hurt other people and we do, whenever we can. Please don’t beat yourself up over this.”
He understood what she was saying, but he couldn’t accept it. Haley had been too good for him, and he deserved to have everything good taken from him because he hadn’t been able to save her when it had been his fault that she was forced into that situation.
She smirked. “And Rossi may have mentioned a woman making her way into your life. Beth is it?”
Hotch rolled his eyes. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. And it is just a bike ride.”
“You should go. Even if nothing happens, training is better with a partner. And you won’t be betraying Haley. Or Jack. If this thing works out, it will be because Beth understands that Jack doesn’t want or need another mom.”
Hotch looked at her with soft eyes. “Yeah. Maybe I should go.”
He did, and it was such a success that they ended up going on more than one date. She was excited to meet Jack, and they both loved each other. Even the team, who were always weary of potential partners, seemed to accept her as one of their own.
It momentarily convinced him that love could survive the horrors of their job.
The sound of the gun that Diane Turner shot herself and Maeve Donovan with sounded louder than even the three shots he had heard over the phone when George Foyet took Haley from him. His ear started ringing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex close hers and lower her gun.
What had been thinking? Alex had already lost a son, and every case put the one she had just found at risk. Even now, she had the sense to look away. He was still holding his gun like there was something he could do.
Before he was aware of his actions, he had dropped it. Something that he always told people not to do, especially if the safety was off because you just couldn’t guarantee anything. The sound it made as it hit the ground was still nothing compared to Spencer’s sobbing.
Reid was on his knees, eyes closed as though that would stop him from seeing Maeve’s dead body, both her and Diane’s forming a pool around them. It would be another funeral for him to attend. It wasn’t fair. Reid was still just a kid compared to the rest of them, he didn’t deserve to see all the things he had been subjected to.
Hotch knelt beside him. “Reid?” he whispered, keeping his voice as soft as quiet as he could.
Reid shook his head. “It’s my fault. I should’ve done something. There were so many different endings to this series of events and at least half of them involved Maeve living and me dying, which is something everyone could have learnt to live with.”
“Spencer. That isn’t true,” he said, a lot more firmly.
Spencer’s sobs had calmed to hiccups. “It wasn’t supposed to be her.”
“I know,” he said, and he wrapped his arms around him. He felt Reid go limp against him as more sobs wracked his body. Reid was resting his head on Hotch’s shoulder and on instinct, he felt himself stroke the younger one’s hair, the same way he did to Jack when the little one couldn’t sleep.
He knew that grief caused people to go numb. When Reid pulled away, he kept one hand on his arm to stop him from being an idiot. Only Alex was still there, hovering by the side lines. The others had gone to stop the police from coming in too soon. They were giving Spencer the space to process.
Hotch wished they hadn’t. Jason and Emily were the ones that Reid turned to when he needed something. And if not them, then Derek and maybe JJ. But Jason and Emily were gone and Derek and JJ were dealing with other things.
And he was the only one who’s partner had ever been murdered by an unsub. He just didn’t know how to provide comfort. He didn’t know how he was supposed to tell Spencer that everything was going to be fun and he would recover because the truth was that he would never be the same. Aaron still wasn’t the same. It wasn’t possible, but sometimes his lower torso still ached the same way it had when Foyet first pushed the knife in. He wouldn’t lie to Spencer, but he couldn’t tell him the truth.
“I need- I never got to hold her. I need to hold her. Hotch let me go! I need to hold her, just once. Just once so I can remember her.”
The last time Hotch touched Haley, she was barely warm, but still lifeless. It overshadowed every single casual touch they’d shared since they were seventeen and it was all he could ever think of when he remembered her. He would give anything to forget the last time he held her.
Perhaps one day he would. But Spencer had an eidetic memory.
“I can’t let you do that,” he said.
Spencer shoved him. He wasn’t strong enough to knock him over, but Hotch hadn’t been expecting it and he lost his balance slightly. They both looked down at Reid’s hands. Reid looked at them like he couldn’t believe they were part of his body. Hotch looked down at how pure they were.
Reid had killed unsubs when it was the only way to save other people, but he was still innocent in so many other ways. He’d never hit the table to intimidate a suspect because that was Hotch’s job. He was the one that played bad cop, whilst they trusted Reid to successfully empathise.
Reid had never killed a man with their bare hands.
Hotch momentarily let go of Reid, and Reid tried to use that opportunity to grab Maeve’s hand. But Hotch was quicker, and before Spencer knew what was going on, Hotch had grabbed both his wrists and was holding them in front of his chest.
Both their eyes shone with tears.
“Let me go,” Spencer begged.
“No. Spencer listen to me. You don’t want your one and only memory of her touch to be when she couldn’t respond. You know better than me that she is going to be unresponsive. You won’t be able to kid yourself into thinking that she did indeed clasp your hand. Her perfume will be tinged with the stench of blood and she will be cold. Remember Maeve as the woman that made you smile. That was warm and bright. Not like this.”
Spencer relaxed against him, the tears falling. Hotch pulled him closer, holding him tight. At some point, Alex crept forward and gave the two of them a hug. She told them they needed to go. Reid shook his head. Between the two of them, they managed to get him down the stairs.
“I want to go to my apartment,” Reid stated after they took his statement. Hotch had sat with him the whole time. Reid’s monotony scared him and he wondered if the look on the officer’s face was the same as the one that been on Strauss’ after he spoke about Foyet.
“Spence,” JJ said, reaching for him.
“My apartment. Please. Hotch?”
Hotch knew why Reid had asked for it to be him. Because if he declined, Reid could come after him. Say that when Haley died, leaving behind a young son whose memories of his father were patchy and disrupted, Hotch had refused to stay with anyone. Instead, he had sat in the darkness of his apartment in case the monsters from Jack’s dreams came to life once more.
“If you need anything,” he said with a sigh, because he was the only one that understood.
Spencer nodded. But Hotch knew he wouldn’t.
They drove in silence. Hotch itched to say something but what? He understood what it was like to lose the one person that made your life better, but at the end of the day, he hadn’t been there. He had heard it over the phone. Spencer would see the images every time he closed his eyes.
“Would you like me to come up with you?” he asked.
Reid shook his head, exited the car but did not close the door.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t quick enough,” Hotch mumbled.
Reid’s pause meant he heard him. His lack of response meant he didn’t have any words of comfort that would not be lies. Perhaps that hurt more than Jessica’s sad smile when he got him and distractedly ruffled Jack’s hair, unable to focus on what he was saying properly.
He’d made the right decision in not letting Spencer touch the body. He knew he had. It didn’t stop him from wrapping Jack up in the coat Haley had picked and going to her grave. He knew Jack was missing his mom, so the trip served a dual purpose.
Jack liked to lay flowers at the graves that didn’t have any because- in his words- it would mean everyone would be as happy as his mommy was. As he did that, Hotch spoke.
“I didn’t let him touch her. I need to convince myself that was the right thing, but what if it wasn’t? I have years of touches to hold onto. He had never met her before then. What if one day, he wakes up and resents me because he can’t even imagine what she feels like?”
If Haley were alive, she would rub his shoulder and tell him he was a good man that needed to stop doubting every decision he made because he knew his team better than they knew themselves and that Reid would never hate him.
Be annoyed at him for specific things he did and lash out because he was in the wrong, yes. But hate him? Never.
Only Haley wasn’t alive. Hotch sighed, called Jack over and hesitated slightly when Jack held his hand out. Hours before, he had been holding a gun, ready to fire. He hadn’t been fast enough, and now another piece of Spencer had been lost to the abyss.
When Spencer didn’t return to work immediately, he was relieved. At least he was taking the time he needed to grieve and recover instead of rushing back and never dealing with the pain until it got so bad he could hardly breathe without holding back a sob.
He turned up on their case. Everyone else was excited to see him, because it meant he was alive. Hotch wasn’t so sure. Reid had never known anything other than the BAU, and that was partially his fault for not putting his foot down and telling Gideon the kid needed more experience before working as a profiler.
But there were people that needed saving, so he let it go.
And then he heard Spencer tell Dave how he wasn’t sleeping because he kept seeing Maeve asking him to dance but he had never been able to touch her. It was like a punch to the gut. Spencer had never touched Maeve because Hotch had told him not to, and now he was paying the price.
He didn’t hear Dave’s response. He used that moment to tell Alex he needed the bathroom. She seemed slightly taken aback but shifted out the way for him.
When Spencer came in after that, he seemed peaceful. He had danced with Maeve. Now, even though it wasn’t real, he had his closure because he’d been able to touch her, which was all he had wanted. Maybe it had something to do with being touch-starved.
Hotch thought of Haley. What would he give to see her one last time? Just to say he was sorry?
He was telling the team about a missing girl, but it was getting harder to breathe, and he couldn’t make out what the screen in front of him was displaying.
Before he knew what was happening, the world around him was going black and the frantic shouts of his team were not enough to bring him back.
When he opened his eyes, he saw her.
“Haley?” he whispered.
She looked beautiful. Her dress shone, and her hair was the same blonde it had been the day she’d gone into witness protection. She looked like the girl that had exploded into his life and taught him how to say I love you. That had taught him the meaning of light and who had changed his life forever.
“Hi baby,” she said with a grin.
He smiled. His light had come back to him.
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vostokovasmelina · 3 years
Text
emerald stained goodbyes.
for @smallheathgangsters ‘ 1k challenge - huge huge congrats, leah and so sorry i’m so fucking late! all the love xx
pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k+
warning: substance abuse - this is really dark; i’m sorry, okay??
prompt: “i probably tore her heart right out” (cassie by chase atlantic)
disclaimer: i believe people with any kind of addiction deserve help and recovery, so this piece was not written against them. however, i have seen what it can do to loved ones and i was also heavily inspired by some other lyrics from the song referencing substance abuse, so please don’t misunderstand my intentions - it’s just a piece of fanfiction. many thanks
a/n: phew i think i’m officially back, folks; i’m lowkey not happy with the ending but ‘tis the best i can offer right now
italics = the past
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He stumbled to the front door absent-mindedly, mostly his subconscious reacting to the sharp ringing of the doorbell and Tommy just obeying its demands. He had been in a relatively good mood, which had been quite rare lately, and he didn’t even give much thought to a possible threat waiting for him on the other side. He didn’t even check if his gun was close to hand at all, something which he had always done. Tom simply swang the door wide open, frozen in his tracks at the sight that was worse than any armed rival could have been.
“Y/N-”
“Let me in,” you whispered, pulling your baggy coat as tight around your cold body as possible, all your clothes draining of water as you stood there, outside in the pouring rain.
He flicked his cigarette and watched it land in a grey puddle, a few desperate strings of smoke floating towards the sky as if they were drowning in the dirty water. Tommy felt the dull ache in his chest slowly spread around, intruding every little bit of his body and he knew he would go mad if he had to stay here any longer. He kept waiting for that soft hand on his shoulder, that bubbling laughter from inside the bar, the one that hid all your sorrows from everyone but him. Tom wished he could go back in time and make everything better, be there for you and pick your pieces up instead of stomping on them on his way out.
He watched you stumble into his living room and throw yourself into one of his most expensive armchairs. Tommy’s face jumped into a painful frown as he thought about the soft material sucking in all the water from your clothes but he didn’t say anything - he simply shut the front door and turned back to you. Your cheeks seemed even more hollow in the light and Tommy felt heartbroken and furious at the same time.
“Where have you been?” He questioned in a low voice, trying to stay calm and collected as if that would fix the mess you had become the past few months. Tommy thought he had been relatively patient while trying to look out for you but he wasn’t sure if that was still what you wanted from him. Technically, you were still a couple and you wore the ring he had given you proudly on your better days but the sight of the tiny piece of jewelry did nothing but turned him bitter now. The promise of marriage was growing into a heavy burden, pressing down on Tommy’s shoulders and he was more and more convinced that he was the most selfish man in history for wanting to send you away in your deepest sorrow, trying to shield himself from your flames.
“Why do you care so much all of a sudden?” You looked up at him from under your eyelashes, your eyelids getting heavier with every passing minute as the warmth of the fireplace flooded your whole body and your frozen limbs slowly returned to life with a sweet tingle running through them.
All of this didn’t make a difference though. You couldn’t ignore the hellfire raging deep inside of you in an attempt at burning you and everyone around to ashes and looking into its flames had become so mesmerising these past months that you simply couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Everything had shifted out of focus by now and even Tommy, the man you had loved passionately ever since you first met him was but slightly clearer a silhouette than everyone else. You had been turning in on yourself slowly but surely, leaving less and less of hope behind for those that loved you.
Tommy shook his head in the hopes that it would clear out all the memories from the night before for all eternity, providing him with a fresh start, a blank page to start his next chapter on. He didn’t want to erase you - no, he couldn’t do that. Afterall, he still loved you and was grateful you had played a crucial character in so many of the most imprtant chapters in Tommy’s life but he always knew he shouldn’t make himself believe you would stay that loving, harmonious couple you were in the very beginning - especially after you had discovered your great appetite for snow and morphine and god knows what other kinds of drugs you got obsessed with while falling down the rabbit hole.
Tom pulled out another cigarette from the depth of his pocket, suddenly becoming aware of the real destruction of this habit of his, the real damage it was and had been doing to his lungs and he rolled it around slowly between his thumb and index finger as if he was contemplating whether or not he actually wanted to keep doing this to himself. He eventually stuck it in between his lips and felt a perverted kind of excitement at the thought of pure smoke filling up and dirtying his insides, thinking he was deserving of the punishment after all he had done and said to you - even though the actual torture would creep on him slowly over the next years and decades.
He was cruelly pulled back from the downhill of self-distruction the next moment as Tommy turned to see who had intruded on his bitter loneliness and raised an eyebrow at his rosy-cheeked aunt.
“Arthur’s hosted a little bit of tasting of his best liquor if I’m not mistaken?”
Polly frowned at him as she shut the door behind herself and pulled her fur coat tighter around her shoulders, taking the burning cigarette from her nephew’s hand to take a drag. Tommy was sure that soon there would be none left for him.
“Please. Not everyone needs alcohol to have a good time, Thomas,” she remarked, raising the cigarette slowly to her crimson lips to hide a cheeky smile.
“You’re alone with that in this whole fucking town,” Tommy mumbled lowly and looked around as if he was looking down on the whole of Birmingham, seeing all the sorrows and dirty secrets, the skeletons in all those filthy old cupboards. His fingers ran around in his pocket driven by his subconscious and Tom was pulled back into reality only when they touched the tiny cold silver, the only thing you left behind after you had said your final goodbye.
He gathered all the courage hiding deep inside of himself and gave you the coldest piercing look those pale blue eyes had ever cast on you. Tommy could even see you shrink in your seat for a moment before fire lit up in your E/C eyes just again, ready to defend yourself by any means. He couldn’t recall the moment when everything took such a sharp turn for the worse but he felt like it didn’t matter anymore. There was no way he could fix it this time and it was useless dragging out both your suffering too long. However, it was high time he had finally said it all, everything that had been weighing him down.
“I’m literally the last living person who still cares about you, Y/N. When was the last time you looked in the mirror? Do you even realise what you’re doing to yourself? You look horrible,” Tommy let out a cynical chuckle as he looked you up and down, shaking his head and you could feel the angry tears swell up in your eyes, your palm itching to slap his perfect face.
Tommy felt it coming. He was trying to get himself ready for the slap but he was still taken aback by the force your numb and lifeless arms still held. As he took a few steps backwards to regain his balance, you jumped up from the armchair and headed towards him, rage narrowing your sight to your soon-to-be ex-fiancé only. All of it evaporated though when you felt Tommy’s strong hands wrap themselves around your wrists and pulling them into his chest forcefully so you couldn’t get out of his grip so easily. For a moment, you could feel all the anger and determination leave your soul, leaving only vulnerability behind and you got so scared of the possibility of crumbling in Tommy’s arms that you panicked and started trying to escape his grasp, tearing at his white shirt and pushing him with all the force you had left.
“How can you say this to me? How dare you forget that you were the one who got me high the very first time?” You were screaming at the top of your lungs at him and hit his muscly chest one last time before you felt his grip loosen as you pushed him against the wall and trapped him. Your breathing was loud and fast when you looked up at him with the familiar rage back in your eyes. Tom didn’t answer with a word and once you realised he had already ended any kind of relationship he had ever had with you, you scoffed and pulled away, shaking your head in disappointment.
“Fuck you, Thomas Shelby. Fuck your big ass mansion, fuck your cars and horses and fuck your bloody family. Only a madwoman would marry into the Shelby household.”
He looked down at his hand and watched the tiny emerald stone reflect the pale sunshine even in this gloomy Birmingham day. Tommy let out a big sigh before turning to Polly, his aunt raising her eyebrows at him in anticipation.
“I won’t be needing this any time soon, Pol,” he stated and handed the small piece of jewellery to the woman who had given it to him only a few months ago. Tommy knew his aunt was trying to hide her relief but he was too drained and exhausted to listen to Polly give him a lesson about the perfect wife and how Tommy always found the broken ones way too interesting for his own good.
“I probably tor her heart right out, Polly. Try not to look so happy about it.”
He fixed his peaky hat, gave Pol a nod before lighting the last cigarette he had on him and headed home in the dirt and fog of Small Heath, blaming the pinching cold air for the swelling tears in his tired eyes.
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jamilelucato · 4 years
Text
The History Of Wrong Guys
Pairing: Bill Weasley x reader (platonic)
Based on the song The History Of Wrong Guys, from the musical Kinky Boots.
Summary: you and Bill are co-works and suddenly you noticed you were thinking about him a little too much.
Musical Hogwarts List
A/N: there’s a little twist at the end and that’s all I’m gonna say.
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You’ve been working for the Gringotts Wizarding Bank for six years. Things were always the same — you were responsible for paperwork; contracts, international business, and client interactions. Literally, anything that the goblins didn’t feel like doing was your job.
Simple, easy and money guaranteed.
Working behind a desk was kind of boring, but you weren’t the only wizard around — there were other two working with you. Other two really old co-works who had been there for Merlin-knows how long an didn’t like to chat, but still... not alone, you know.
Jannet and Gabriel — the other two wizards around — use to say your habit of chatting, making jokes and treating work with fun ways was going to get you fired but there you were, six years of doing it and no goblin asked you to leave.
Jannet was more susceptible to talk, but she was a bore. She refused to know anything muggle-related — even though your jobs were very much like muggles — so she didn’t get any of the references you mentioned.
Rumours about the rising of He-Who-Most-Not-Be-Named were circulating around the Bank, and much to you and your wizard co-workers dismay, the goblins seemed really found of having the Dark Lord around.
The only good thing those rumours got you was your new desk neighbour: Bill Weasley.
Bill was tall and ginger, with beautiful eyes — not that any of this matters. Anyway, Bill used to do curse-breaking work, but he was having some issues with his family — as if you didn’t know about the Order of the Phoenix — and so he had to be relocated to your workplace, in Diagon Alley.
Bill was a blessing to the place.
At first, you two never talked. It was only “good morning” and “have a nice weekend”, but it all changed when, without notice, you said out loud one of the catchphrases from one of the muggle shows you were watching. 
See, this would generally pass unnoticed, because Jannet and Gabriel had no idea what that was about and they only thought you were crazy, but Bill knew what show you were referencing. He knew and he replied with the answer of the catchphrase!
And since then you two had managed to become friends, exchanging jokes and funny remarks every time you guys had a break. You even shared lunch two days in a roll because Bill’s mom didn’t have time to prepare it (yep, you made fun of him because of it).
Sometimes it felt like he was trying to recruit you to the Order of Phoenix but you were never sure because he never went through with it — he’d walk away before finishing his questions.
You never pressured him about because if he asked, you’d be tempted to say yes, but, truthfully, you really didn’t to be a part of it.
One day, you two took your break for lunch together, so you sat at the same table at the Leaky Cauldron.
“It’s nice having a co-worker,” he commented in between bites.
“You worked alone? When curse-breaking, I mean,” you asked, avoiding gazing at him for too long. You noticed you had been doing it a lot lately.
“It’s generally a one-person job,” he explained, shrugging. “Never wanted to leave for an adventure?”
“Ah,” you sighed, playing with your food. That was a sensitive matter for you. “Never had the guts.”
“What a horrible example for your fellow feminists,” he mocked, almost choking with his food while laughing.
With the fork, you threw a pea in his face.
“Hey!” he shouted, still laughing.
“Don’t ever say I’m not feminist enough, Weasley,” you warned, raising a brow, but inside you were laughing as well.
“I didn’t say that,” he smirked.
You exhaled, letting out a small giggle. He was going to drive you crazy...
“Let’s go back, or we’ll be late,” he pressed you to fast eat — which he knew you hated.
“I still need to pay, Weasley,” you pointed out, tossing food in as fast as you could.
“I’ve got you covered, y/L/N,” he said, showing you the receipts.
Without even noticing, you blushed. He was a gentleman and you didn’t deserve it. All those years complaining about Jannet and Gabriel finally had paid off.
When you arrived at the Bank, a beautiful, blond, tall and thin woman started walking towards you. She probably wanted something — the goblins left pretty girls at the door to attract customers, which was an excellent tactic, but then they never knew how to differentiate who was a customer and who was an employee.
You were getting prepare to shove her off when she reached for Bill’s arms.
“Thought we were lunching together, Bill,” the blondie said with a heavy French accent.
Bill blushed.
“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry, Fleur, I completely forgot... I was able to head out early and I didn’t...” Bill’s tone showed concerned, and you noticed he was scared of her.
You watched the scene quietly.
“It’s okay, love, I am not angry,” she said, smiling. “Do you still have time left?”
Bill looked at his watch and then at you.
“A couple of minutes,” he informed her, not daring to look back at you again.
And you understood — he wanted you to disappear. So you rushed to the lift, hoping, praying for it to open and fast.
Once the door opened, you practically jumped in and pressed all the buttons so it would close.
Why were you feeling like that?
“Oh no, you don't dare. Girl, girl, girl, I'm warning you!” you shouted aloud in the elevator, not really caring because you were alone. You facepalmed. “No! I think I have a crush. I can't. I think I'm falling for him...Oh no...”
That was why you felt weird back then. You were jealous.
You shouldn’t be felling that, but then again, women have been making bad choices since the beginning of time. Are you gonna be another one of mine? you thought, used to think he was from outer space. Who's that bright-eyed guy in your place? He’s kinda cute when he’s not so shy...
“But I've been here before. Have I come back for more?” you talked to the reflection of yourself in the mirror of the lift. It was another chapter in the history of wrong guys.
You turned around, pressing your back in the mirror. “Bill, honestly, I've been hurt like this before. Is there really more to you than what I always thought?” you whispered, groaning. “How can you surprise me anymore?”
Fine, you had a crush on him. But you were, clearly, not the only one; I mean, that blondie downstairs was all over him...
It’s okay, love, her voice echoed in your head.
“He's got a girlfriend, you flake!” you slapped yourself, really hard. “Why are they only nice when they're unavailable?!”
You didn’t wanna be another star-crossed lover, you knew how that ends.
“I’m better off without him. We’re better off as friends,” you said aloud, hoping those words would fix in your mind.
It was definitely another chapter in the history of wrong guys. After all, yesterday, no spark, no heart aching allure. But today you felt something impossible to ignore.
Let me clear the history of wrong guys for all of those wondering:
Chapter One - He's a bum;
Two - He's not into you;
Three - He's a sleaze;
Four - Loves the girl next door;
Five - Loves the boy next door;
Six - Don't love you no more, makes you insecure, makes you so unsure, is so immature, loves his mother more
Or
He has a girlfriend named Fleur.
The elevator door opened when you rushed out of it. You sat down at your table but you were unable to find a good position. After all, all of them faced Bill’s table.
How were you going to look at him now? Merlin, you had spent most of the time flirting with him, openly! He probably knew you liked him, and even if not, he would find weird if you suddenly stopped.
And if you didn’t stop, you were going to fall for him deeper than you had already.
It was funny how he needed to have a pretty girl around to make you realized you had feelings for him. And funny how you thought he’d pick you.
“Where are you going?” asked Jannet.
“Home,” you answered, gathering your things from your table.
“What? Are you—”
“I’m feeling sick, Jannet. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay, don‘t be a bore,” you said, rolling your eyes, before hurrying to the lift again. You just hoped Bill wouldn’t pop out of it.
***
You stared at your ceiling for the whole afternoon. And after eating dinner, you kept looking at it.
What were you going to do? You couldn’t keep taking leaves.
Perhaps this was a sign from the universe for you to get the hell out of there. 
You hated that desk job, you hated the temperatures in London, you hated your flat...
***
Arriving at the Bank, you rushed to your supervisor before even saying good-morning to the goblins around.
“Is Bill’s old job still available?” you asked the boss goblin who didn’t even look awake yet.
“I’m sorry?”
“Bill Weasley’s old job. Curse-breaker,” you said as if you were in a hurry. And you were, because, if it didn’t do it today, you wouldn’t do it ever. “Is it still available?”
“Yes, but—” the goblin looked around his office, maybe he was looking for some paper.
“No buts, I want it. I’ll go, wherever you want me, just say.”
“Are you sure about that, miss y/L/N?” he asked, taking off his glasses.
“Yes, I am. I’ll go right now if you want.”
“Okay, okay. I see you are committed. I’ll work things out.”
You smiled and sat down at the chair in front of you. The goblin didn’t seem to like, but he said nothing else and you waited there for your further directions, pressing your purse against your fast-beating heart.
***Months later...
In your hand was a letter that you did not expect to receive.
They really had given you Bill’s old job, so your new home was now Egypt. It was hot in the day, cold in the night, exactly the type of weather you liked.
Also, the adventures couldn’t be better. There was always a new curse to break — at first, it was hard because you had lost the hang of things wand-related, but soon enough things were exciting as ever before in your life.
But, coming back to the letter in your hands...
William Arthur Weasley and Fleur Isabelle Delacour, together with their families request your presence at the celebration of their marriage.
It followed with the date and place but it wasn’t that part that you were rereading non-stop.
Bill was going to marry and with blondie from work. Oh my, Merlin.
That was definitely another chapter in your history of wrong guys.
***
“You came!” shouted a happy Bill Weasley, wrapping you around his arms. Such strong arms... Again, not the point.
“I replied the invitation, didn’t I?” you said, with a sad smile that he thankfully couldn’t see because your face lied on his shoulder.
“Yeah, but I just...” he put you down, letting you go from his embrace. “You left with just a note, y/L/N. Not very friend-like.”
You pressed your lips together, raising your brows.
“Sorry, Weasley. They offered me the job—”
“—my job—” he interrupted.
“— and it was then or never.”
“I bet it was my conversation. When I said you were a bad feminist—” he looked down at his feet.
“Hey,” you reached his chin with your hand, raising his face. “You didn’t offend me. I needed that wake-up call.”
He smiled, blushing and you started to feel nervous. What were you doing, making a married man blush? You took a step away just for precaution.
“So, how do you like the ceremony?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful, so enchanting... You are crazy to get married at times like this, but I’ll give you credit for the decoration,” you ramble. “Although, I’m pretty sure the credit goes to Fleur.”
“Fleur,” he corrected your pronunciation but then smiled. “And yes, the decoration was all her.”
You smiled back, embarrassed for having said her name wrong.
Another red-head appeared all of a sudden next to Bill, and he had a beautiful smile. He was shorter than Bill, but not at all uglier because he had strong arms and a well-taken-care-of hair.
Sure, Bill had lost part of his charm because of some scars — a werewolf attack that didn’t work out, he explained — but he was charming in the tux. Nonetheless, the man at his side was even hotter.
“Who’s the pretty girl, Bill?” he asked, showing a voice that only completed the package. “Thought you already had a pretty girl for yourself.”
Bill sighed, half-smiling, half-serious. Only he could do such a thing.
“Charlie, this is y/N,” Bill made the honours. “Y/L/N, this is Charlie. My younger brother.”
“Younger, but hotter,” said Charlie, giving you his hand. “Nice meeting you, y/N.”
“Can say the same, Charlie,” you replied, noticing how calloused his hand was. That boy was not only a pretty face but also a hard-working man? Was that family a pot of gold?
Bill coughed, calling the attention back to himself.
“Well, now that you two know each other—” but Bill was never able to finish because Fleur pulled his arm and took him to dance floor, not even saying sorry to you or Charlie.
“Now what, brother?” Charlie asked making you laugh with his easy humour.
He then offered you his hand and you didn’t understand why until he tilted his head towards the dance floor.
“Oh, I don‘t really...” 
“Come on,” he grabbed your hand anyway, and since you stopped complaining, he took it as a yes.
You smiled at him and passed your arms around his neck while he embraced your waist. It felt completely natural like you two had done it many times before. From where you were standing, you could see Bill and Fleur having fun, but the image didn’t seem to bother you anymore.
“So, how come I didn’t know you?” Charlie asked, trying to make conversation.
“I’m living in Egypt now— long story,” you added when you noticed he raised his brows. “Well, actually, I’m now in Romania, in the country’s capital. Haven’t memorized it yet.”
“No way!” he dropped your waist and stopped dancing.
“What?” you asked confused.
“I live in Romania,” he explained, stepping next to you again and grabbing your waist as if he had never stopped.
“Well, then maybe you can be my tour guy,” you said, smiling to him. “I’ve been just organizing an apartment; I know noting of the country yet.”
“Of course! Well, I’m more in the North, but I can pass at the capital at any time.”
You two stayed talking all night. It was nice to know that, although he worked with dragons and you worked with charmed objects and goblins, you two had a lot in common.
He didn’t have much knowledge around muggle’s TV shows, but lately neither have you. It was hard watching things in Egypt because it was generally in a language you didn’t speak and you hadn’t had the time to even find a TV in Romania.
Charlie managed to distract you all night, and if it weren‘t for the terrible silence that fell upon the party when a magical announcement happened, you wouldn’t have noticed how in danger you were.
“You need to Apparate out of here,” you screamed at Charlie who was now up next to you and you grabbed his hand. That made him gasp, surprised for a second but it was an automatic reaction for you with all those months undoing curses, you knew your safety instructions.
“You are the one who needs to run,” he shouted over the noise.
“I’m not going anywhere — I’m gonna help them fight,” you said. “It’s nothing I haven’t done at work before. Only ten times worse, but I can handle it.”
Funny how before changing jobs, you would have run away as quickly as possible.
“You need to go, Charles, now!” you shouted, before exploding a spell in the face of a masked wizard.
“I’m not going anywhere, y/N!” he yelled back, using his wand against another couple of dark wizards.
You two quickly exchanged looks, both raged with anger, but not at each other. 
Even though you two were fighting facing a number way bigger than just the two of you, neither of you dropped each other's hand during the whole thing.
“Watch out!” you shouted, before attacking a man behind Charles that he did not have seen.
Charlie ducked just in time and the other wizard fell in pain.
“Charles, follow me,” you requested, squeezing his hand and running out of the wedding tent.
“When this all ends, woman, I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth,” he replied with a smile. You looked away but not in time for him to not see you blushed. And that simple reaction made his night.
It was definitely a new chapter for the history of wrong guys. But, perhaps this time it was going to have a happy ending.
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redstaratmorning · 3 years
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Amnesia: The Dark Descent - Astarion
Ahoy there me hearties! It is time to embark on yet another long voyage into the seas of discovery and character exploration, to fill in the details of the blank map with speculation and musings alongside the occasional sea serpent drawing! Tonight we are once more focused on Astarion from Baldur’s Gate 3, and we set sail with navigation logs that include Scents And Sensibilities, or more specifically how both taste and smell might impact Astarion as a vampire and his perception of the world. The second major topic of speculation would be the one that gave this post its title: amnesia possibilities with speculations on the influence of torture and starvation for induced memory loss. This is of course all speculation based on early access content, so beware of spoilers upon the horizon! Content warnings include discussion of food items, consumption of food, consumption of rotting food, graphic descriptions, maggots, insects, emetophobia, vampirism, blood, dark backstories, abuse, torture, horror, and other themes typical of the Baldur’s Gate 3 setting. Spoilers for both Baldur’s Gate 3 and some spoilers for Amnesia: The Dark Descent and Amnesia: Justine included. Google story details of the Amnesia series at your own risk, these tags are intended to be reflective solely of mentioned elements in this essay, not of all potentially disturbing content in those games.
So with the starting fact of how closely the senses of taste and smell are in real life, what does this mean for Astarion and other vampires in DND when it comes to how things smell versus how they taste? Referencing another of Pjenn’s fine posts regarding everyone’s favorite local vampire spawn, Astarion has a line regarding consuming a treacle tart from Auntie Ethel’s cottage: “Hell’s teeth! Was solid food always so foul?” [click here for a link to said post]  Now this could just be because Auntie Ethel is a hag and cooks horrible food, and according to tumblr there are poisonous apples to be found at her place as well. [Alas no post citation to confirm the poisonous apples.] If Astarion’s reaction isn’t due to Ethel being a terrible cook, and is more to do with the fact that he’s a vampire, then that’s a horse of a different color. Presumably, through speculation based on his surprise and lack of disgust prior to consumption of foodstuffs, standard humanoid foods likely still smell or at least smell similar to how they used to smell to him when he was alive. An apple still smells like an apple, as it were. It may just be that instead of Astarion feeling hunger at the smell of an apple, it might be more akin to smelling pleasant like apple-scented perfume or such though for him...curiously, that would suggest that he did not try or more likely could not try to eat anything of the sort under Cazador’s rule. On that note, it would be a certain flavor of tragedy for regular humanoid foods to still smell appetizing and edible to Astarion but taste like ash in his mouth, or worse. But how does food fit for vampires smell to Astarion? Namely, blood, of course. Though one might wonder at rare steak or other cuts of meat still bloody to the taste—could he eat beef tartare and enjoy it, for example? Sashimi or other raw seafood? That’s straying into headcanon territory though. Back on topic, in the one camp scene where everyone is feeling ill with the beginning sensations of ceremorphosis, he mentions “I can smell the blood in your mouth” on one dialogue branch. It could be that the two are standing awfully close together while discussing matters, and/or the MC’s bleeding a pretty significant amount and the scent is quite noticeable, or Astarion’s got a pretty keen sense of smell, or a combination of the above. It probably smells pretty good if it tastes as good as Astarion’s reactions and comments would strongly suggest, and if we’re going to go wild with fun fantastical interpretations, I’d put forth the idea of Astarion being able to smell the difference between different people’s (or animals’) blood at close range. If Larian puts the following datamined not-present-in-game-yet scene in, the former idea would tie in very nicely with how Astarion speculates on how the different companions’ blood might taste, from this datamined text post once again kindly provided by Pjenn. [click here for text post link, bottommost “tastingparty” section] Transcription of some of the possible lines in question (not in the game at time of writing, and possibly may not appear in the final game): “Take Gale, for example. He strikes me as someone whose blood is rich, refined like a well-aged brandy.” “Take Wyll, for example. A man of the people, very palatable, like a sweet cider.” Above lines chosen for their more descriptive wording, thus why the other party members (both current and future as of this time of writing) are not added in the above examples. Astarion is quite colorful in his descriptions of how he thinks some of the companions’ blood would taste, based off of their personalities. So what does everyone’s various MCs’ blood taste like? There could be delightful variety based on the details of the various MCs’ personalities and personal life histories, I’ve seen some explorations on the dash here and there which is delightful, and I’d shan’t say no to seeing more. It is a beautiful opportunity for character exploration regarding the MC, Astarion’s perception of them, the reality of who they are (and perhaps Astarion shifting said perception of them), and all around a great potential moment to have some fun writing descriptive prose if one is so inclined. One internet search later, I will say that it appears that reddit and other google search sources do seem to suggest that in real life the blood from various different species of animals looks and tastes different from one another, even without going into factors such as age and health’s impact on blood. If we as normal humans are able to tell the difference in that, it seems reasonable to think Astarion would be able to do that and more with supernatural augmentation as the basis for that line of thinking. What do people smell like to him? Different from one another one might suppose. Is that part of what informs his imaginings and wonderings about how their companions’ blood might taste? Individuals tend to smell unique to some degree, due to body chemistry among other factors. One would expect blood to be a factor in that, seeing as that’s how many hormones and such get sent about the circulatory system—which might mean Astarion (and our potential future weregnome companion) may have more of a time having to deal with the whole party foregoing soap for better or for worse, unless Gale or Shadowheart have a Summon/Conjure Soap spell, or perhaps the MC is a ranger who can find a soap plant. Not a great time to have a sensitive nose potentially, though foregoing soap and thus additional layered scents like floral infusions and such might be beneficial. One can only imagine hunting might turn out better for the entire party’s dinner-scrounging efforts by not alerting the local wildlife that there’s someone about who smells like a potpourri bowl...though that’s another idea, does Astarion volunteer to go hunting moreso for the party in order to be able to drain blood from the kills? One would bleed and gut a carcass anyway as part of the processing, so who would know if he drank it dry versus bled it out with a knife from a tree? Moving on though, imagine what it must’ve been like the first time after he rose up from being turned and he smelled another living person’s blood, only to feel his mouth suddenly start watering. Was he confused? Repulsed? Horrified? Startled, but accepting? There’s potential ripe for the picking to interpret that in any number of ways, including conflicted and complicated in multiple directions all at once, which his actions and emotional depictions might suggest so far in early access. Imagine the torment of being ravenous every night—and I am personally impressed that Astarion actually can keep his mental faculties and presentation together well enough to seduce someone given potential speculation of his physical state,—and knowing only a meager portion of the most putrid, rotting rat flesh awaited him back at Cazador’s mansion, while he had to interact and seduce with people who smelled just so good to his vampiric senses. Consider the added twist of the knife in Cazador’s torment of Astarion with the fact that one can consider saliva to be filtered blood—if one headcanons Astarion as actually being quite physical with his seduction up to and including kissing of any kind. Consider also, the fact that if Astarion has shared a kiss with one of the unfortunate victims-to-be, he might have more of an idea of what they might taste like but must also now sit and SMELL their fresh-spilled blood right from the vein, right there in front of him, and watch while Cazador enjoys his own supper, while being forced to down a disgusting rotting carcass under threat of punishment. [in-post content warning: Graphic description of rotting dead rat carcass, food, maggots, etc in the next paragraph] Did Astarion throw up the first several times? Cazador would’ve surely punished him for so “rudely” rejecting a dinner all set out especially for Astarion and everything. To get to the point where one can consume let alone look at and smell a plate of rotting food,—specifically a dead rat with the fur still attached, the guts bloating up and putrifying from within, that very well might have live, wriggling maggots in it,—and not vomit? It must be one hell of a potent cocktail mix between primal hunger-driven desperation and fear of punishment applied over a prolonged period of time for Astarion to actually be able to consume that, let alone look upon it. This essay by the by will not be doing any in-depth exploration of the overarching situation relating to the victims’ point of view, as I feel that’s been implied in previous meta posts by both myself and others on Astarion, in the “Clearly The Other Victims Have It Bad Too And No One Deserves To Suffer Cazador” thread of implications.  We are however acknowledging that all of this experience for everyone else, aside from Cazador, is Fucked Up And Very Very Bad. Continuing past acknowledgements of the large moral cluster of ideas over yonder, let us move forward into the “present” time when Astarion has joined the party, and no one is as of yet aware that he is a vampire. Consider the scenario where he can smell their individual scents, but it’s nothing he hasn’t handled before, even if he seems to be...curiously free of the immediate need to get back to Cazador right away, while still wrapping his head around this bizarre new reality of walking in the sun. The inescapable reality of how different everything looks bathed in the all encompassing colors of sunlight, compared to moonlight and lantern light. Be it the blinding yellow, white, and blue of the noon time sun, or the violent golds, oranges, reds clashing against the violently deep blue shadows of night’s approach during the fall of twilight, or the brilliant and mellow pale grandeur of all the world’s color coming to life as the dawn breaks forth...it has been so long since last he saw any of that. Do you think he sat up specifically to watch that first dawn, while the other companions slept? It’s a beautiful thought. But I would follow that with the unfortunate potential consideration that he is starving—and when hunger eats away at one’s mind for long enough and in a demanding enough fashion, it can be remarkably difficult for a person to feel much of anything save very faint echoes of emotions or on the other extreme end only the strongest emotions, and more often than not those emotions are very likely to be the negative ones. Just about nobody’s happy when they’re starving after all. Astarion may very well feel awe at seeing the dawn again, but how deep does that feeling go, when instinct is screaming and gnawing at his very bones to insist that he is hungry? Famished. Starving. Appreciation for beauty is a privilege that is hard to enjoy at all in any degree of depth when the basic needs are wailing inside one’s head so loudly.  And he can smell his companions’ blood, even when they’re not bleeding. He has also smelled their blood spill out into the open air too, during fighting. How does that eat at him, how does that sharpen his appetite so? Does it make his stomach twist in pain to smell what his senses are clamoring for and labeling as food so close, so near, as he slowly loses his mind waiting all day for the party to break camp so he can try to slip away and hunt? Does he catch anything? He does find some animals canonically in some encounters, but there is no guarantee he will find enough without expending strenuous effort, assuming he finds anything at all on a given night. And his luck does run out eventually it would seem. One night he just doesn’t have any reserves left in him to go hunt down another animal, to take another gamble that’s stacked even higher against him with how badly off he is. Does he feel an uncomfortable chill set in, cooling his blood and rendering his flesh even colder than his normally low body temperature standards as his undead form slips just a little bit closer to a semblance of true death, whether or not he can starve to death as a vampire? Do his hands shake? Can he think at all as thoughts fade in and out from hunger-induced weakness? Can he think through the haze of sensation and awareness if he breathes in through his nose, his open mouth, inhaling a lungful of the smell and taste of living blood right there? The smells that he’s grown familiar with over these last few days? The companion origin for Astarion definitely seems to spin it towards needing to know if he can resist Cazador’s orders now, but consider this thought: imagine the progression of realization that Astarion might have as he considers the idea that he could resist Cazador’s rules, with the lack of magical-compulsion to return to Cazador’s side right away. That if Astarion himself is no longer bound by those supernatural, unyielding, magically-enforced laws, he can also drink the blood of thinking creatures. He can drink the blood of people. He can drink the blood that he’s been smelling the enticing scents of this entire time. The blood that is right. There. And he is starving. Imagine how that must feel, that pupil-dilating moment of realization as muscles tense and the next breath comes in as a sharp inhale at the instantaneous, primal understanding that you can have food, real food, good food, right then and there when you feel like you’re dying for something, anything to stop the hunger from eating you alive from the inside out. And all you have to do, is take it. Humans in real life can potentially have very predatory responses to hunger at times, especially when it comes to hunting down prey animals, and when it comes to spotting an easy meal when one is working on empty reserves. Imagine how that can scale up for a vampire...and for Astarion, this is the first time he’s been free to actually choose to act on those instincts. Cazador’s rules have always been the backbone holding him in place as surely as the mindflayer prison pods kept everyone well and truly trapped—until our merry lot was broken free. Now though? The only thing standing between Astarion and his sleeping, delicious-smelling companions’ blood, is his own will and choice. That has to be equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. He’s never been free like this—free, with vampiric needs clamouring for his attention. Free, as a vampire, spawn or otherwise. But does he want to? I would actually suspect he feels conflicted about that on multiple levels, given a possible line Auntie Ethel might say should you fight her. ”You’re one thirsty night away from betraying everyone!” [One of Auntie Ethel’s taunts when using Vicious Mockery during her potential fight, linked here in astarions-ears’s post.] On the one hand: the power to take what he wants, what he needs, is at his fingertips. Much like how the power of the tadpole is. It could help him protect himself, be stronger, do whatever he wants...just like the tadpole power. This whole situation is a mess of temptation in the long term for Astarion in so many ways. On the other hand though...I suspect based on that line from Ethel above, assuming it makes it into the final version of the game, given that it’s used during a casting of Vicious Mockery, I would say there’s fair grounds to assume Astarion does have at least reservations about betraying the party, at the very least with the hesitation given rise from self-serving desires such as wanting to have a group of people in his corner. I would say though, it wouldn’t cut so deep, and wouldn’t be so vicious a mockery, if he didn’t care that it was betrayal. I think it safe to say that if he truly didn’t care in some shape or form, Ethel would’ve ended up mocking some other aspect of Astarion’s personality or insecurities, likely something along the lines that everything he does is futile as he will still end up killed or enslaved by either Cazador or others (such as the party and MC having so much sway over his life and choices), rather than needling him about betrayal of all things.  Another reservation he might have from lack of experience is that he’s never hunted other people for his own food before. He might never have hunted for someone personally of his own free will before this point, either. That little nuance could be a hook on which he hangs onto for dear life—or unlife—in order to keep what remains of his perceived identity. Who does he want to be, and among those details, what must he be, in order to survive? What can he avoid doing? Does he want to be what he perceives as a monster? Is he hoping not to become a monster, to validate that he isn’t one already, based on his conversation after you catch him trying to steal some of the MC’s blood? “I’m not some monster!” There’s also the line from the post-Raphael first meeting, “If I keep the tadpole, I risk turning into a monster.” which all seem to imply that Astarion draws a line between what he thinks is and isn’t monstrous, much like in the first meeting with Astarion where if you tell him about the tadpole, he laughs bitterly and goes, “Of course it’ll turn me into a monster.” Isn’t that an interesting turn of phrase? It implies so much fertile ground for speculating on what he thinks of both his own vampirism, and what precisely makes someone or something a monster. The MC has come into Astarion’s life at such a fascinatingly crucial point in time, beyond just Astarion’s sudden new freedom, however fragile, from Cazador. Because of that freedom, this is also the time of exploration and self-definition for Astarion to decide who he is, and who he will be, a coming-of-age if you will, which is hysterically ironic and well-played by Larian Studios in my opinion given that he is almost assuredly going to be the chronologically oldest member of the main party. This dovetails so very neatly into the MC’s already obvious potential influence on how Astarion views his condition, other people, the world around him, his own self and morality...it’s really just so rife with potential. This particular part is nothing too new, just added detail and layering on top of previous musings in past posts, but there are elements of interest to examine I think. Personally, I was inclined to guess Astarion as being older, even as elves go, based largely on the fine lines one can see upon his face when he’s emoting, some elements of his attitude and dialogue—(“A fine effort, but I’ve seen it all. I was walking this land while your ancestors were learning to crawl.” - said if you fail a skill check during his recruitment scuffle)—but looking at some of these other elements has me reconsidering that. Perhaps he was more on the young adult side of the elven age range, rather than middle aged prior to being turned? If he can retain scars as a vampire under the living conditions Cazador subjected him to, perhaps he also has stress-related aging tells, since it seems from other DND materials (Curse of Strahd I believe has a vampire locked in a basement that’s largely starved of blood if I recall correctly? I am uncertain of the details regarding the situation unfortunately) that vampires can at least show physical deterioration when it comes to being starved for blood. It would be an entertaining take in my personal opinion to see an older character having a coming-of-age growth type arc, since those are almost always strongly associated with a relatively narrow range of ages from teenaged-to-middle-twenties-ish protagonists and characters. Whichever way Larian goes with it though, it is looking quite promising just based on the overall quality of the various game elements so far. To build on that possible theme interpretation though, there is another element that I think ties into Astarion’s uncertain age as well—how much he remembers of his life before Cazador, and how much life there was to remember to begin with. One might generally presume that the older a character is, the more time they’ve had and thus more opportunity to learn, to be exposed to life experiences, to garner wisdom. Often, this also tends towards a certain amount of cementing of a person’s outlook, personality, and other core traits along with potential varying levels of self-awareness regarding those elements. It goes without saying that people do still change sometimes dramatically other times gradually over the course of their lives, but typically the more easily-influenced vibes commonly go with younger and/or more naive character builds, though not always of course. Without addressing significant or otherwise notable exceptions, specific nuances or variations though, there is something of a vague expectation and template starting-base that older characters and personalities are typically more “put together”, “collected”, and less likely to be outright mutable. Astarion though? As a character in an RPG that is built upon the foundations of choices, in a DND world where choice IS the defining feature in both character expression and storytelling? His core will remain as himself I’m sure, but by the very nature of the game attempting to make this an enjoyable experience for the audience, odds are very good that Astarion will be heavily influenced in his outlook into a set number of branched endings based on what the MC chooses to say and do. But I have some potential suspicions now that Astarion might actually be a touch more malleable in some parts of his outlook and manner beyond the influence of just the aforementioned elements above. Consider the following lines Astarion currently has in Early Access, including one mentioned previously: “Hell’s teeth! Was solid food always so foul?” [Said in the previously posted link above when eating a treacle tart for presumably the first time, stolen from Auntie Ethel’s before illusion is lifted.] “I’ve seen so little of the world. Still, there’s time now.” [Looking at a globe, post linked here, from Pjenn’s blog] “I haven’t spent much time with helpless old ladies. Was that normal?” [If you kill Mayrina’s brothers and Auntie Ethel disappears into thin air. Video from Danaduchy on youtube linked here] “Probably wise. No one gets that old and crooked playing by the rules.” [Same conversation as above mentioned in the video regarding Auntie Ethel if the second option “I’m not sure. We should watch ourselves around her.” is chosen in response to Astarion’s question.] While one could certainly retain youthful or what one might call immature or dramatic inclinations even through to one’s golden years, I am on the fence on how far Astarion’s presentation is strictly personality-based versus influenced by a possible lack of diverse life experiences. Nature versus nurture, as it were. The first of the above quotes seem to suggest he hasn’t done much traveling, and may have some wanderlust in him (potentially hinting at moon elf wanderlust leanings?), but then why wasn’t he out traveling? Why did he become a magistrate? There is much life to be lived in great depth and diversity when one stays in one place, true. But we really know so little about Astarion’s past before Cazador, all in all, and that intriguingly puts him back in step with most of the other companions at this point of backstory reveal, I’d say. If we include Cazador’s influence, I’d say we’ve seen quite a bit more of his story than most of the others because there’s a lot more visibility and immediately-threatening emotional tension in his story, even when compared to Gale’s, surprisingly, followed by Wyll’s, Shadowheart’s, and then Lae’zel’s as of what I personally have seen of their stories (my knowledge may be lacking, even as far as Early Access content goes.) To be fair though, Astarion is the one who thus far shows the most visible, dramatic expressions of fear and trauma regarding his backstory than all the rest, so that would be a major factor as to why it feels like we’ve seen more of his tale, among other factors. Regarding life experiences within a more geographically limited area though—that puts some of Astarion’s comments as even more markedly odd to me. Specifically those comments of his after Auntie Ethel poofs away into thin air, should the party slay Mayrina’s brothers for Ethel, “I haven’t spent much time with helpless old ladies.” Perhaps his specification is the helpless part, but even if he was spending time with powerful old ladies, who asks “is it normal for the elderly to disappear into thin air like that?” He must have met some older people, ladies included, as Baldur’s Gate is not a strictly elven city, according to the wiki its demographics are mostly human but widely diverse. [Link to wiki page here.] This is especially strange if he’s of a noble background and was ostensibly working with other government officials, one would expect a range of ages with plenty of older individuals present both in his work and social circles, even if only in passing. That’s just not adding up, especially if it’s a genuine question, which his expressions and tone of voice during his inquiry in addition to his responses afterwards to the MC’s various dialogue options all seem to suggest if not confirm. If that question was coming from a young character who hasn’t seen the world, one would assume they were just incredibly sheltered. What does it mean coming from Astarion? What’s even stranger is that Astarion is the one who baits the MC into a trap using a similar disception upon meeting—”Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered!” One would think Astarion would recognize a ruse like that as one of the oldest tricks in the book: pretend to be helpless to get someone else to do the dirty work for you. Such a trick often is pulled off well especially when the pretender is either a) pretty/handsome, b) innocent looking (young or otherwise), c) dressed in a uniform or clothes that have helpful connotations for snap judgements in one’s favor (e.g. wearing good-aligned clergy garments), d) helpless looking (young, old, specific subgroups depending on culture, disabled, etc), or has other elements to their advantage there. If Astarion doesn’t recognize that particular ruse, which he doesn’t seem to, that has additional implications going on for him. If he did recognize the ruse, one would expect his reaction to be much more in line with Shadowheart’s. If he recognized it and was hiding it, one would think he wouldn’t want to play stupid, if only for pride’s sake—for all that Astarion has done things that have unquestionably humbled him, his penchant for verbal wit and criticism (various insults aimed at the MC and others regarding their intellect/stupidity) and touchy ego makes playing stupid seem like a very emotionally taxing and potentially painful thing for him to do, and thus not worth the mental/emotional effort in what looks like a very low-stakes situation. He seems too impulsive and reactive to be planning out a long-term con of hiding his intelligence, he makes far too many quips to pull that off at this point. Assuming Astarion does indeed not recognize the ruse beforehand, some of the possible implications for that could speculate on his overall awareness of his techniques when it comes to deception and manipulation. He definitely can spot it on occasion based on a narrated internal monologue line presumably from his origin— *I gave her a hard look. Never play a player.* [Linked to the audio of this line here from scionsandsinners’s blog] That he spots it in the potential origin line above, but presumably not with Auntie Ethel, might suggest that his experience is likely limited to within certain restricted lanes of behavior, likely seduction were one to guess based on what we know of his backstory and some datamined emotional directions/descriptions for voice acting, along with speculation based on his in-game behavior and demeanor. That would potentially push him moreso towards appearing when being manipulative to be doing so out of either self-perceived need (e.g. defending personal interests, inquiring after information of interest, etc), learned response, social norms, and other short term motivations that are more situational than long-term planning. I admit I’m still personally not of the opinion he’s playing a long-term game, and is playing it by ear as he goes—both honestly and not-so-honestly, as mentioned in previous posts on the subject. [Mentioned past essay post of mine linked here] In regards to short-term machinations, I think they’re all largely emotion or survival driven, as far as we’ve seen. I would include the voice acting direction for the romance scene where it’s noted that this is a power game for Astarion and that he’s an old hand at seducing others. Specifically from the synopsis: “For Astarion, this is a game of power - one he’s played many times before in the taverns of Baldur’s Gate, trying to lure people back to his master. He’s an old hand at seduction, very self-assured at first, but the player might not go along with the script he expects them to follow.” [Link to Pjenn’s post here.] I’ve seen intriguing, angsty, and fun takes on what this might mean all around tumblr, so allow me to offer up an additional one that might either compliment some of the already circulating pre-existing ones, or stand on its own depending on personal preference. Consider what power means to Astarion in the context of seducing someone specifically when it’s to lure them back to Cazador’s mansion under orders. It truly isn’t power in the sense of anything one might consider meaningful even under broad definitions. It’s a short-term deception, appealing to someone enough to get them to do what he wants for a short time, likely just enough time to flirt and then bait them back to Cazador’s estate (we’ll be skipping over speculation of anything else Astarion and company might get up to between point A and point B in this essay for simplicity’s sake, though there is much to consider on how it might impact his behavior and outlook there.) One of the specific words of interest I would say is the use of “script” in there. I’m sure others can hear it too when they listen to his dialogue during the party romance scene, but it really does sound like he’s putting on a tried-and-true act that might come across as a little over the top in romantic-dramatic-flair. One potential inference that can be gleaned from this might be some of Astarion’s expectations regarding how people perceive him, and most specifically how people perceive him in a desirous way. I will admit, Astarion’s romance scene makes me laugh, I'm impressed he and the MC both can avoid laughing at his lines in-scene, no disrespect intended. To me, he sounds like he ripped those lines straight out of a torrid romance novel, the kind where women might have a momentary description of heaving, delicate bosoms barely constrained by their bodice laces, while the men have had their shirts ripped open to display rippling muscles in a moment of romantic daring do. It makes me wonder if someone will go with a modern AU idea of BG3′s main crew that includes Astarion moonlighting as a much beloved romance/erotica writer under a nom de plume—the man has lines and characteristics that would shift well in such a verse-transposition. With that comparison in mind, I would suggest that Astarion is very, very used to playing the role of the illicit lover, the tempter of passions and other archetypes wherein he is the one confidently enticing people to cross the line of propriety with him for the implied, unspoken promise of a night filled with unparalleled ravishment. It might be he is fully, intentionally playing up to people’s fantasies about the passionate lover who falls madly in love with them at first glance. The fantasy of being so madly desired, as put forth by some romance stories. Then we have this other portion of the acting direction for the scene, “... very self-assured at first, but the player might not go along with the script he expects them to follow.” Isn’t that interesting? “Very self-assured at first,” why only at first? What changes? Does he have little doubts springing to mind then, because the realization that he knew, but didn’t really know until this moment when he feels the difference, that this isn’t just another routine night like all those other countless nights over the past two centuries where he had to tempt some poor, unfortunate soul back to Cazador’s waiting clutches? That this is someone he’s picked to spend the night with, solely for his own motivations, with no one else pulling the strings? Is it another moment of the realization of freedom, wherein he feels a touch terrified? Suddenly there is no script, there is no expectation of what he’s seen happen time after time after time after time to each person who’s looked at him the way the MC is looking at him now. Is it anxiety? Is it trauma? Is he feeling a moment of distant, cognitive dissonance that this time, this time, this person whom he’s picked, won’t be dead at the end of this? That he doesn’t have to hold them at arm’s length with the they’ll be dead soon or worse mentality he may have had previously...but can he afford to care? Does he dare? Whether he does or does not, it could be such a scary little moment of epiphany, that he even has the option to do so without immediate, horrendous repercussions. But can he really care, even without Cazador looming overhead as an immediate threat? Even if Cazador is slightly more distant now...there’s still the matter of the tadpoles. There is so much uncertainty potentially. Could this be the last chance he gets at having as close to a normal night of fully consenting, fully aware, mutual passion with another person as he can ever have, as a vampire spawn? Astarion could be interpreted as a character who is very strongly ruled by his emotions, in particular his fears and his desires. Does it befit his fears or his wants more to engage as he does in the romance scene? I’d guess moreso his fears, but it’s a fun back-and-forth he’s got as a character, zigzagging between those two extremes. He fears trusting as denoted in the dialogue from him if you fail the persuasion check asking him to trust you and to talk about who he dreamed about, but since you can persuade him...does that mean he wants to trust? If he speaks truthfully in this following scene, he does trust the MC to some degree out of necessity and/or the want to trust, as mentioned if you use the illithid powers in the camp bite scene where he’s revealed to be a vampire. He has likely been alone among the crowd of Cazador’s other spawn, given the lack of mention of anyone else, friend or otherwise, in his banter with Shadowheart regarding if there was anyone waiting for him back in Baldur’s Gate and other general conversations and discussions. That’s rather concerning truth be told, to go two hundred years with what might be a complete lack of positive or healthy social connection. Another thing Cazador has ripped away intentionally, it would seem. Does he want connection, meaningful friendship or otherwise? The fact that his approval rating has an impact on his manner of address of the MC or other selected origin character seems like it could be read as a suggestion that he does show whom he likes and dislikes openly in fairly standard socializing behaviors. That he does want to spend time around people whom he likes, who like him back. What would’ve been terribly clever of Larian (said without being able to compare all the different levels of approval shown via dialogue general greetings from the different companions), is if they had a character whose greeting was still amicable, polite, and most importantly friendly even when their approval of you was low. What if such a theoretical character’s greetings never changed, or changed very little aside from some variation at higher approval levels? That could be a great little twist of game mechanics to show either Something Isn’t Right, or that the character is a great liar, through meta knowledge on the player’s part of comparing all these disparate little details to compare and contrast. That kind of tell could be used to show that a character lacks either a degree of empathy and care for the main character, or that they are keeping the MC at arms’ length regardless of what the MC does (barring some potential high-approval impact and side-quest-completion that leads to influencing such a character, who might otherwise be a betrayer, into remaining loyal.) Seeing as Astarion lacks those major tells as of yet and that he does engage honestly either through persuasion or eventual revelation (such as if you fail the first dream-convo persuasion check, you find out from when he wakes up from nightmares regarding Cazador “reading poetry” what his dreams really were about), one could assume he does, in spite of all he’s been through, despite all the reasons he’s been given to fear, all the repetition beaten into his head to never trust another person ever again or to ever be trusted ever again... ...in spite of all that, perhaps a part of him still wants to reach out and engage with others. That some part of him still wants to interact as most if not all people do, in an emotionally meaningful and honest way. He says to the MC that he thinks they want to be known—and as I’m sure many of you clever lot who are in the shipping business alongside the rest of us have already thought or written out into fic, it very well may be that Astarion wants to be known too. Not just in the romantic or impassioned-love-affair manner of speaking, but simply for who he is, with both the MC and the rest of the group too. Accepted. Does he enjoy the little quips and barbs (assuming he actually is allowed to drink humanoid blood) such as from Shadowheart regarding his vampirism? Does that feel like a new, pleasant normal to him that he likes after a while? A joke between friends? Like the line “You know? I’m a little proud none of you were stupid enough to trust him!” [Linked here from scionsandsinners’s blog] while definitely still sporting his current insultingly low bar of expectations, it could be a nice potential build towards actually getting attached to the group on the whole as friends. Did he have that before he turned at all? Did he want that before? It seems likely given what we’ve seen of his raw emotional drive, that his potential desire for meaningful connection however obscured behind quips and barbs, that those elements were always a part of him in some way, shape or form. Does he remember, though? Or is it potentially something he’s forgotten, to some extent or other? Does he remember vaguely what friendship was like as another hollow memory among many, after so many years of torment wearing away at his mind? Do his friends from life if any still live? That could be bittersweet, if he did leave someone behind from when he was alive, that we might meet in Baldur’s Gate. He calls that Before—that time when he was still alive, before he lay dying and accepted Cazador’s offer of eternal life and was thus turned into a vampire spawn—so long ago it’s ancient history. “Everything before that is so long ago it’s ancient history and everything that came after…well uhm–I’d rather not reflect on it.” [Link here, from scionsandsinners] In some lines, tentatively guessed as post-vampire-status-reveal casual dialogue regarding his past before Cazador, relating to his days as a magistrate, he says he can’t remember what happened too clearly. “I…can’t remember much, truth be told–centuries of torment will do that to you.” [link from scionsandsinners blog]  According to google searches on the internet for DND rules regarding the turning of vampires and vampire spawn, they do seem to retain the memories of their life even into undeath. Astarion certainly could be obfuscating and lying about how much he remembers from back then...but consider this alternative as a possibility: What if he isn’t? [Spoilers for some of the Amnesia game series ahead, specifically Amnesia: The Dark Descent, and the DLC Amnesia: Justine.] What if he does have a certain degree of memory loss? Enter the comparison of Daniel and Justine both from Amnesia: The Dark Descent and the game’s DLC. Astarion, unlike the main character for Amnesia’s main campaign Daniel, did not technically volunteer for memory loss...unless one counts agreeing to take Cazador’s deal as volunteering, specifically without full and knowing consent of what he was getting into. Daniel in comparison knowingly and willingly ingests a potion to erase his memories, and leaves a note to motivate himself and thus the player to follow the course of ensuing events that make up the game. Justine does so in a similar fashion to Daniel, but her memory loss is intentionally temporary, whereas Daniel seems to have meant for it to be of a more permanent fashion. What if part of Cazador’s intentions regarding torturing his spawn, including Astarion, was to break down memories of happier times until those spawn could only remember that they had ever been happy once, not the actual memory, not the actual feeling—only the bitter, hollow forgetfulness and knowledge that they had known, once? Starvation is devastating in many, many, many ways. Ways that are so rarely fully explored in fiction beyond the feeling of extreme hunger. Few, after all, would consider the impact of malnourishment or a constant caloric deficit upon mental faculties unless they have observed it, experienced it, or studied it. It is possible to suffer actual physical brain damage from starving, so one must ask is it so surprising that the ability to think, comprehend, and process information, memory or emotion also falters when under the very real physical stress of prolonged famine? The brain eats up at least a fifth of the baseline caloric intake required for the average person’s bodily needs. It does not compromise well for less without the person in question suffering consequences for most if not all individuals. We know Astarion has not had more than enough to barely survive under Cazador, and the quality has been well below subpar at best. What if, after all he’s been through, with the exhaustion of constant fear and extreme pain, of unending ravenous hunger, and so much more...what if Astarion can’t remember much of before at all? What if he has forgotten chunks of his past? He does remember large, broad brushstrokes yes, the shape of ideas and what he once knew. The home he might long to see that he has not laid eyes upon in centuries [mentioned in the conversation with the Ornate Mirror if Astarion is the one talking to it (or does it require he be the chosen main origin?) I have no source available at this current time alas.] How much of that home does he remember in full? I’m sure he can recall some details...but are they the abstract knowledge of those details of what he knew they were like, or the actual memory?  Can you imagine the added layer of pain for an elf, if Larian is working with any of the racial features involving trancing, or the Reverie, if it’s built based off of the 2e DND Complete Book of Elves excerpt as mentioned in the following linked thread? [Posted by Remathilis, key word phrase is “The Reverie” or “The reverie is akin to sleep”, linked here] Specifically if these elements are at play:  “The reverie is akin to sleep, yet is very much unlike it. When elves enter this state, they vividly relive past memories, those both pleasant and painful. Like the dreaming of humans, elves have no control over which memories rise to the fore when they relinquish their bodies to the reverie. Occasionally, elves do actually dream, but this is not a frequent occurrence and mostly occurs only when they truly sleep.” “Although the reverie provides rest, it is primarily an important memory tool that helps the elf maintain a strong sense of identity. Since their lifespans are so great, elves must periodically recall the events in those hundreds of years that were integral to the making of their personality.”  This is from older versions of DND rules it’s true, but if it still applies, and applies to Astarion? This man has had over two hundred years’ worth of memories full of suffering and torment that, if he’s having traumatic PTSD nightmare episodes also helping to induce a higher frequency of recalling his torment at the hands of Cazador both during those centuries and afterwards, are potentially shaping his personality not only through the channels we can recognize in both fiction and the real world in psychological and physiological terms, but also supernatural or magical influences due to his being an elf and potentially shaped by the influence of what memories his reverie might dredge up. And the larger the number of traumatic, dark, fearful memories he has, the more likely he is to encounter them, especially if they’re coupled with a constant, ongoing fear of knowing these memories will be made anew each night unto infinity if he is stuck bound to Cazador’s service forever. Who wants to bet Cazador knew about this aspect of elven psychology/biology? Or at the very least speculated it, as far as having elven vampire spawn went? It will be interesting to see if there are other elven vampire spawn among Cazador’s underlings—either for the route of Cazador taking a particular extra pleasure in breaking elves because they are supposedly harder to influence in such a manner if he had others before Astarion, or if Astarion was the first elf Cazador turned, then perhaps Astarion received particular, special attention for being seen as an added challenge due to being an elf. Alexander from Amnesia however had to use a slightly defter touch to manipulate Daniel, having not so concrete a hold over him as Cazador over Astarion. But the torture of others, of fleeing to Alexander’s or Cazador’s promise of safety from an impending horror or threat of death, followed by a descent into the dark, unyielding despair of what Daniel or Astarion have done to survive? They do have potential parallels enough to make for a possible AU exploration in fics, certainly. One question that arises in this scenario of comparison though, is how much is Astarion aware of? How much of Cazador’s insidious influence does he recognize, in particular the more subtle parts that have seeped in over the years? Consider then the added layer of stark, blinding contrast, that he now has new memories, of new people, new experiences, in particular ones that are not torture or the anticipation of said torture, and it’s all in the daylight. Memories of daylight the likes of which he’s not had in two hundred years. Consider the mere color contrast from the lighting difference of daylight versus night time, like in the line where he asks  “Was the sky always this blue? It’s magnificent…” [Link here to the audio, presumed triggered after vampire status reveal] If he dreams in reverie and the memory that comes to mind is set in the daytime...would he feel a bit safer in hoping that it will be a safer, better dream, than if it’s set in the night time? Consider how much of a horrible, terror-inducing surprise it might be to dream of a sun-filled garden, only to see an idealized version of Cazador show up, a la the tadpole. That has to be the meanest surprise-twist Astarion could have for a dream setting there. But on other nights if he does not have memories of Cazador or tadpole dreams plaguing him, does he dream of the camp, the companions, the MC, the actions their group has undertaken? What does he think of those dream-memories? Are they only relatively restful compared to the other dark memories lurking in his head, or are these new daylight-filled memories actually objectively restful for him? Perhaps one additional group of reasons he’s willing to join up with the party, is to get away from the memories. With people, there is the added unknown factor of complexity and chemistry, of lives and histories not his own added to the mix of any situation they come across. Of interaction. Of not being left alone to his own thoughts and nightmares. This group’s members aren’t victims meant for Cazador’s fangs and thirst, nor are they Cazador’s spawn, fellow damned souls and torturous devils both who alternate suffering upon the rack and potentially being the ones to turn the rack’s wheels for whoever is tied down upon it that night. Mayhaps Astarion wants to remember more of the things he’s forgotten in the darkness of all the years he’s suffered under Cazador—to make new memories of things he would associate with living, with being free. To fill in the hollowed out abstract memories with fresh, new details of life lived in the sun, in the here and now. Is he aware of just how much he’s forgotten? Even if he isn’t fully cognizant of the full tally of all that he’s potentially lost...it must still hurt to have an idea of how much he’s lost even if he’s only partially aware. In this, he might hold more comparison to Justine from Amnesia’s DLC moreso than Daniel, depending on what choices Astarion makes if he’s the chosen origin, or on the MC’s choices if it’s a custom origin playthrough—with Justine, her choices are all setup and intended to be an exploration of who she is as an exploration of character, to find out if she is capable of mercy and compassion still—while exercising a great deal of monstrous cruelty for her own amusement. With Daniel there is still the solid comparison of thematic elements in that his quest is a desperate pursuit of revenge while trying to outrun a great evil, all while acknowledging that he himself is horrifying as well. Justine’s story would parallel Astarion far more so on the dark path through Baldur’s Gate 3, naturally, whereas Daniel, if one selected the Revenge Ending at the end of Amnesia, has more in common with Astarion’s tentatively projected good route—revenge, while also ending a greater evil than himself. The parallel with Daniel may possibly even include a comparison to Amnesia’s Good Ending depending on what direction Larian takes Astarion’s story in. I doubt Larian would have Astarion become self-sacrificial, but I could see him potentially becoming much more inclined towards helping his friends and party members on a good-aligned path, as he seems at least not entirely unwilling to engage in do-goodery, particularly if bribed enough. There’s also certainly the idea of comparing Daniel being “tainted” as Alexander put it by the Shadow to Astarion’s potential point of view on his vampirism, given some of his expressions at times in emotional scenes relating to it. Then also the comparison of all the horrors Daniel has inflicted upon people, as have Justine and Astarion, and the fact that after the amnestic-influence of their specific story elements in this build, they are ultimately all able to be influenced towards better or worse endings dependent upon more immediate influences, namely the people surrounding them, and less so from long-standing influences of their past such as tradition, upbringing, and other core elements of identity that memory so often brings to the table, or at least helps formulate the detailing of. Justine admittedly does not really have “better” endings, but her horror story’s core could be interpreted as “was truly a monster at heart all along” from start to finish. Will Astarion prove to be similarly corrupt at his core, something that had always been true deep down regardless of Cazador’s influence on him, ultimately sowing harm and ruin upon the world and people around him, like Justine? Or will he turn out to be leaning towards being more of a good-inclined, flawed character with a bloodstained history he regrets and seeks to overcome, like Daniel? As a disclaimer though, Daniel is not a Good-aligned personality. He did many horrifying things to preserve his life, and Astarion certainly has done terrible things canonically under Cazador’s direction, though we still wait to see what Astarion did back when he was free to choose. With the attention to detail Larian Studios is applying as is to just what we’ve seen in Early Access, I would expect a fairly nuanced backstory for Astarion with murky morality, based on what we see of his opinions and character traits now. Another idea just to let loose an additional fox among the chickens: Consider the added layer of potential morality conflict in the scenario where Astarion might actually have very well been pursuing his idea of justice as a magistrate— coupled with his low opinions of others which he may have had before Cazador turned him, along with his racist/discriminatory comments and behaviors (re: Gur, Goblins, Gnomes, Kobolds, etc), likely suggests he could very well have been very biased in his perspective on how he meted out justice. I would not be surprised if Larian Studios kept the story idea that he was selling criminals off, but I also would not be at all shocked if they added details where it made what Astarion was dishing out closer to overly-harsh street-justice—he makes a fine murder-hobo adventurer as it is when the watchword of the day for many an adventuring party is “Murder Is An Acceptable Solution If Words Aren’t Working.” I also wouldn’t bat an eye should we find out he was as judgmental and cynical before Cazador as he is now, albeit perhaps with a different bend to his outlook from life experience influences. This all really ties in well with the usual game build of everyone starting at level one, as brand new, green adventurers—barring past adventuring experiences for backstory like Wyll, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart do or potentially have—at the start of their journey, off to explore the world and grow into the world-savers (or world-enders) they’re destined to be in a given campaign. Astarion fits this very well on many levels, among them given the fact how new everything is to him with this sudden change of the rules altering the very fabric of his existence. He has to deal with figuring out how to deal with his vampirism under his own agency and all the ensuing complications that come with that, has to figure out how to socially interact with others in all new ways, has to level up to go on his personal quest to save his own hide and eventually his friends’ and the world—it’s all so new and different, even the things he’s experienced before with such a drastic perspective shift and a change in power. It ties right back into his tagline so nicely too if that ends up being a possible theme of his, the whole memory-loss/memory-informing-his-identity element of being an elf: “ Astarion prowled the night as a vampire spawn for centuries, serving a sadistic master until he was snatched away. Now he can walk in the light, but can he leave his wicked past behind?” Can he leave those memories behind and forge himself into a better version of himself, if that is what he wants? What choices will Astarion make, if he does indeed have warped memories due to Cazador’s corroding influence to the point of some degree of memory loss? How will this flood of new sensory and social experiences change him as he goes forward? Who will Astarion choose to be, at the end of the day when they reach the road’s end? Will he let those dark memories twist and shape him, or will he try to make new ones among new friends, and follow their lead back into the sunlight? So many potential questions! Speaking of potential good-versus-bad-paths, this line isn’t in the game yet, but I feel it suggests Astarion might have a certain tolerance or perhaps even willingness to at least consider going out and saving the world, beyond lines we’re all familiar with already at the Tiefling celebration party: “Don’t you think we have other priorities right now? We need to save ourselves before we can save the world.” [Link here from Pjenn’s datamined post, dialogue theoretically occurs after a currently locked-off from Early Access encounter with a drow servant of the Absolute in the Underdark] It makes for a lot of intriguing possibilities, I dare say, all of which could make for marvelous variations in core character trait builds and influences for different interpretations of Astarion as a character. So many choices and gradients to play with, he and all the rest of the main cast have such nuance, it’s fantastic. The cast of characters all so far seem to have a wide variety of wants and motivations, and Larian seems like they might be quite determined to blur the line and inspire more rich exploration opportunities regarding perceived morality among many other potential topics of discussion—we have good characters with on-going flaws and darker motivations, evil characters with recurrent virtues and sympathetic appeal, and quite a few in-between when non-party-member NPCs are included in the mix. I do think Astarion along with all the rest of the party fit into those kinds of complicated-morality situations we’ve seen play out and be hinted at so very nicely, and it will be such fun to see how they grow through these experiences! It’s marvelous writing, directing, animation, acting, and just straight up work all across the board it looks like from over here. Anyway, thank you all for coming along on this literary ramble with me, I hope you had a fine time and that you all have a lovely day or night as befits your current timezone. Happy tidings to you, and stay safe everyone, and see you next time! :D
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somestansomewhere · 3 years
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Debbie Gallagher: ALL Love Interests RANKED
Okay! I tried to rank all of Debs’ love interests and it was hard to do because I am not set on that ONE PERSON that I ship her with above all else, but these are my thoughts! Keep in mind that these are all MY OPINIONS and you are entitled to yours as well! Let’s talk about it! If you read all this ILY.
Here we go:
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23. The Guy At The Pool (Season 5)
He thought Debs was special needs and she tried to flirt with him...
22. Kelly (Season 9-10)
I LOVE Kelly so much but she was not into Debbie! I really love her with Carl and Debbie should not have tried to interfere! I will however say that I really really REALLY enjoy their friendship and I wish that that would have continued on. They had some really good moments together.
20/21. Eugene (Season 6) & Board Game Guy (Season 7)
Alright so these two don’t technically count because Frank tried to set Debbie up with Eugene so that she’d be written into his will. And the Board Game Guy was from a deleted scene as one of Debbie’s “life partners” from that flyer she made. So enough said.
18/19. Tyler (Season 6) & Erika (Season 6)
Again, Frank attempted to set Debbie up with Tyler and while that “potential relationship” wasn’t as bad as what happened between her and Erika, I am grouping them together because Debbie wasn’t technically into either of them and it was set up to fail right from the start.
17. Larry (Season 6)
The pregnancy fetish guy! I’m not quite sure what the intentions were for this character in the long run but it was a funny joke in the episode he was in. Even in the beginning Larry gave off red flags, but Debbie was happy... until the truth was revealed. Weird.
16. Jared (Season 11)
Another irrelevant love interest: the gay guy that cheated on his husband with Debbie after giving her cocaine. Obvious issues with this encounter/plot line aside, I did feel that their interactions at the bar were flirtatious and I didn’t hate him.
15. Calista (Season 11)
ANOTHER irrelevant character that was used and never brought back!!! I didn’t totally hate her either, she was upfront about her ex-girlfriend and that whole situation. She helped Debbie and didn’t take advantage of her but the second she came on screen; I’m sorry but I did not give a fuck. Her last episode built up a potential friend/relationship opportunity for Debbie and they just did nothing with it. Idfk what else to say, not a fan but I did appreciate Calista trying to take care of Debbie when she clearly was drinking too much.
14. Sandy (Season 10-11)
Oh boy, everyone’s favorite partner of Debbie’s... Yeah, Sandy is so low on this list not necessarily because I didn’t like her for Debbie, or that I have beef with Elise (b/c I love her as an actor sm). I personally just hate the sheer fact that this character EXISTS in the first place. I never understood the hype, but I know that people only like her because she’s a Milkovich ie. related to Mickey. That’s the hard truth this fandom isn’t willing to admit. My disliking Sandy should be a post of its own but lemme get into her relationship with Debbie.
You could tell that Emma and Elise liked working together so the chemistry was sorta there (definitely not soulmate shit tho). Each time that they interacted in s10 I was over it. S11 was better in the sense that whether I would like to admit it or not, they did have some “cute moments” (mainly just Sandy calling Debbie babe/babes). The second shit hit the fan in regards to Sandy’s history, I immediately understood Debbie’s issue with her and why her character would not want to be with Sandy. But, with that being said, Debbie was also in the wrong because she made everything about herself throughout the entire course of this relationship! Sandy did call her out, ex: “who was supposed to take Franny to school?”, and things like that were nice. HOWEVER I am sorry to say, this relationship felt like a massive waste of time and it felt like they were trying to force something that shouldn’t have existed to begin with. I don’t have the patience to even analyze this anymore, but maybe down the line because clearly there is SO MUCH to delve into!
13. Alex (Season 9)
Omg I did not like this relationship/plotline at all. Alex had issues but Debbie was so inconsiderate! I never saw the appeal here! It was nice that Alex had the decency to go and help Debs with Ford after the fact. I just feel “meh” about this tho. They had moments but ultimately I personally wasn’t into it and Debbie’s random newfound self discovery of “lesbianism”.
12. Kyle (Season 3)
Emma Kenney’s first kiss! Kyle was a one episode character that did have the potential to be more than that. I didn’t hate the kid as Debbie’s love interest, but there also wasn’t anything special about him. He was just kinda there and then he left. Debbie really seemed to like him though, spelling his name in her peas, etc.. I do like that one line about cigarettes that Kyle had but again he was such a short lived character and when he turned out not to be related to Kevin it became unnecessary to keep him around... even if the episode alluded to him returning. They were sorta cute!
11. Claudia (Season 10)
So I didn’t like this relationship much either but there was a certain kind of stability in the relationship that felt organic and nice. Partly because I enjoyed watching Constance Zimmer and she made Claudia likeable. Do I ship it? No. Was it a problematic dynamic? Yes. Was it a tolerable relationship? Eh. I didn’t hate it entirely though. Debbie, being a Gallagher, eventually fucked it up. And while I did like the drama, Debbie wasn’t REALLY into Claudia as much as she may have believed she was. So, it totally felt like a one off that would end with Claudia not returning... and it was. So there was no time for an investment of any kind.
10. Hedi (Season 11)
Gosh... Debbie’s endgame(?). Hedi was introduced too late for me to care enough about her (At this point it would have made sense for Debbie to wind up with Calista because at least she was already introduced!). I don’t necessarily like Hedi as a character and quite frankly it was a “who tf does SHE think she is” kinda deal for me. At first I was interested and didn’t hate her (and I don’t), but then she “thought she was Jimmy” and I instantly got annoyed (LOL I GUESS it was a nice nod to him tho... I guess).
My (several) problems with Hedi as a character aside, there IS something about Hedi being presented as this “dangerous badass” who is (somehow) WORSE than Debbie, that worked well. I’m not a fan of the ship, but it is an interesting dynamic in the sense that Debbie could potentially be “living on the edge”. I fear for what trouble this could cause Debbie BUT it’s like Frank referenced: Monica vibes. I don’t think it’s “true love” like Debbie said to Franny. A constant storyline for Debbie has been “why can’t anyone ever love me” and so she falls in quickly. Maybe Hedi will leave her but that’s the thing, “she’s done worse” so idk, either way I don’t think it’s meant to last! But I guess I don’t mind them being together! Karma’s a bitch! Will Carl tell her what Arthur found? Would it even make a difference?
9. Julia (Season 10)
I would have actually rather preferred her with Carl too! It was never love between Debbie and Julia, but the relationship did create good conflict for my viewing pleasure. UNPOPULAR OPINION, I didn’t mind Julia as a character at all. She was fine for me. I also enjoyed how ultimately SHE was only using Debbie in the end. Julia does admit later on that she was experiencing with her sexuality so maybe she did have feelings for Debbie at one point, which I thought was interesting. Debbie got herself into this one. At least Julia was more age appropriate than Claudia... (which is ironic since Debbie got in trouble for being with Julia when the age gap is MUCH bigger between Claudia and Debbie LOL I love it)! I also found Julia annoying Debbie to be amusing, that’s not to say that I liked her a lot either cuz I don’t!
8. Matty (Season 4-5)
Man do I feel bad for Matty! Debbie raped him and it was horrible. From the get-go when Matty was introduced the relationship was hella awkward!! And not only that but Debbie was a MINOR! Matty did do the right thing and said they couldn’t be together but a part of me will always feel strange that he WAS INITIALLY attracted to Debbie before learning her age. That to me is still wildly inappropriate. He shoulda cut it off. He did try to be her friend and took her to that dance which was cute but ahhh this was just a MESS all around. Cringe. At least he didn’t take advantage.
7. Henry (Season 4)
Speaking of Matty and that dance, Henry was supposed to take her. He asked her as a joke in order for Seama to inflict revenge on Debbie. If that weren’t the case however... DAMN THEY WERE CUTE! The potential that this relationship could have had! If only it wasn’t all an act! It was a “day worth of love” and sure that’s not enough for two people to REALLY be IT, yet there was something charming about their connection that I wish was real. Or idk maybe Henry could have reconnected with her later and apologized and it could have been revealed that he did actually like her... but that wasn’t the case. Fuck him!
6. Simon (Season 1-2)
Debbie was NOT interested in Simon at all but at the time he was almost like the male version of her. Their banter back and forth was fun to watch and he probably would have treated her well. It’s unfortunate that we didn’t get to even see their friendship progress. Their interactions were funny and he was a good guy!
5. Batiste (Season 10)
Y’all may not understand why this guy is so high on the list but a part of me wishes this character wasn’t a one off. Batiste is the dude Debbie tried to return her “unused” shoes to. If you can recall, he wanted a blowjob to take advantage of her. While this was a dick move (and the plot went nowhere) a part of me would have liked to see more! He did have an arc where he acted like an ass and realized that it is wrong to degrade women. I just think it could have been built upon and Emma may have had chemistry with this actor. There was something here that I didn’t hate and I felt it could have been expanded upon.
4. Little Hank (Season 2-3)
Debbie’s first real crush! It was interesting to see how he didn’t like her at first and then a “friendship/relationship” slowly started to develop after he gave her flowers. IT JUST NEVER CONTINUED! Little Hank was in no way the most upstanding, but it was cool to see Carl have a friend that Debbie crushed on (when she was little she wasn’t intentionally taking something away from Carl ie. Kelly, so I support it). Their interactions were fun to watch too! The fandom definitely has a soft spot for Little Hank! And at one point everyone was rooting for them to be together. Too bad we never discovered what ended up happening to this character!
3. Neil (Season 7-8)
The bathtub scene tho! Adorable! There was a short moment within this relationship that was super cute where the two of them really did seem to care about each other and may have both been in love. It goes without saying that Debbie was only using him, but they did have SOME potential and they found a common ground where they each benefited each other’s needs. Debbie once again was TOO controlling and self absorbed to make it work, but I don’t think she was entirely happy in a relationship with him. He deserved more respect!
2. Derek (Season 5-8)
Baby Daddy! I really did enjoy them together until Debbie took advance of him and Franny came into the picture, but at the same time that’s one of the reasons that Derek, as a character, has a deeper connection to Debbie and the audience. I always enjoyed their flirting back and forth and the relationship they had (the deleted scene with the card/push up game ahh my heart)! Debbie really did mess up due to her desperation to “belong to a family”, which is another one of her consistent character traits. She just went too far and tried to trap him. Then shit got messed up between their families. Derek did eventually ask for parcial custody and did have a desire to be a part of Franny’s life. Debbie said no and that plot line died until s10. Pepa!! Ahh! RIP to Derek, it was sad to me that he died. Definitely a character and relationship that I wish was incorporated more because I truly enjoyed them together.
1. Duran (Season 8)
Besties with benefits! Stop! Nobody talks about my guy Duran! Sure they both said that this relationship was of a sexual nature and that they were just a couple of friends but damn! The chemistry and dynamic was palpable! It is truly a shame that we didn’t get to see more of this friendship! They were on common ground and really did care about each other! I don’t know why but I really just LOVED them together! Duran was also in her friend group with Farhad and that was a group that seemed to have a positive impact on Debbie as a person. S8 Debbie was cool! These two complemented each other so nicely! Duran wasn’t by any means the best influence on her because he almost lead Debbie down a “Monica path” but come on, Hedi is worse in that department. He was getting his life together like Debbie was with her profession. Just think of the hair convos Duran and Tami could have had Lol. Idk, I just like Debbie with him a lot! It was healthy to an extent and he was supportive of Debs with Franny.
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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years
Text
Let’s talk about: The World of Original Content (Weverse Magazine)
by Admin 1
Don’t you just love it when stan twt in particular has a giant fight victimizing the members and claiming they hate things like RUN BTS only for BH/Weverse Magazine to come through and deliver them a bitter wake up call? Because I sure do, which made reading this new article even more curious than the subject matter already is.
For those who might be intimidated by the length of the article (though I guess you wouldn’t be reading our posts in that case either), the basic gist is a discussion and exploration of how shows like RUN BTS or In the SOOP (or GOING SEVENTEEN used as comparative example) are so successful due to the fact that they give the members a place to participate in a variety show type program in an environment where they feel safe and also actively can add input to the actual things happening in the show, as well as how all this additional video content offers not only a great way for the idols to connect with fans but also to showcase different things about themselves, or even a form of self-presentation as was said about SEVENTEEN content. 
Since their start 10 years ago in 2011 until they were named the most mentioned account in the world on Twitter and through to today as the most talked-about K-pop artist, BTS have released more than 12,400 videos and related media. Their YouTube channel, BANGTANTV, has secured 43.4 million subscribers and its videos more than 8.1 billion views cumulatively since its launch in 2012, and has 1,398 videos in its archive as of January 15. BTS have posted more than 590 videos to their V LIVE channel over the past five years, and in June of last year became the first in V LIVE history to surpass 20 million followers. These self-produced videos contain the artists’ histories as well as their messages to and joy for their fanbases, and this original content serves as an opportunity to reach out to even more people thanks to increased follower and subscriber counts. 
Now those are some really interesting stats to take in, the numbers mind-blowing though in a sense not necessarily all that surprising. We’re talking about ARMY and eight years worth of content after all, but the fact that there is a lot of sincerity and a degree of genuine rawness to be found among all those videos certainly helps as well. Who doesn’t love Bangtan B*mbs showing the guys doing something fun together, like playing basket ball on the roof between filming the Black Swan MV or things like the short videos from their birthdays. Content like this is much easier to access (and free) than things like Bon Voyage and are a great “gateway drug”, so to speak, to fall even more in love with Bangtan. 
The animation dubbing, meanwhile, started with an idea from the members. “Having watched the members for so long, I was confident they would be good at voice acting,” said Bang. “They told each other they wanted to try dubbing something, so we got to work on the episode. Copyright on web-based shows is generally strict, but discussions with Disney went smoothly because it’s BTS.”
This part I find particularly interesting for two reason:
“(...) started with an idea from the members.” confirms yet again the fact that the members do get a say into what they would be interested in doing as part of RUN BTS, that it isn’t just them showing up on set and being forced to do things they don’t care about or have to make themselves pretend they’re enjoying, both things solo stans have claimed about basically each member. It’s the same thing we’ve even seen in episode 124 where the episode was centered around the members coming up with ideas of tasks for episodes with the members even going as far as saying they’d love to do something longer, something that takes up a longer period of time like learning an instrument or sport or even composing a song for RUN BTS. In that same episode we also got confirmation that previous episodes were based on ideas from Taehyung (retro village m*fia type game episodes) and Namjoon (mini game based episode with bottle flipping etc).
“(...) but discussions with Disney went smoothly because it’s BTS.” which honestly just feels like such a (extremely) justified flex, love it. If I were a company that’s usually strict with my copyrights, I’d beg BTS to take my stuff if it’s something that would make them love and they’d have fun with it, but that’s just me.
The last part of the article I’d like to touch upon is this one since, to me, it once again proves Bangtan’s sincerity in sharing certain things and moments with us out of their own free will and desire, instead of due to some skewed ulterior motivation reasoning which some like to project onto them. Of course someone could argue that they only did this to create a false feeling of connection and faux love between the artist and fan, but with that you’re not only doing yourself a disservice but also belittling the members autonomy, feelings and genuine gratitude and connection to us. Yes, they don’t know all of us and they never will because that’s not humanly possible, but BTS being where they are today is (in parts) thanks to their genuine connection to ARMY since even before debut.
When artists enjoy making their videos, they elicit a response from their fans, which in turn instills the artists with even more enthusiasm to make more content. BTS “told the producers they wanted to share with their fans a video they had of them all goofing around,” Bang said, which shows “how sincere their love for their fans is.” The video, in which the members check the Grammy Awards nominations together, was shot on November 25 after they all agreed to RM’s suggestion that they record important moments together and share them: “It would have been somewhat inappropriate to ask the members to film when the nominations were going to be announced so late at night,” Bang recalled, “but they eagerly pitched the idea first, and thanked the staff after they were done shooting.” It was “thanks to the members that I was able to capture that important moment,” Kim said, while noting that “the most important thing when producing content is the artist’s desire to connect with their fans.”
This is something they certainly didn't have to do, just like they didn’t share the Billboard Hot100 #1 night with us in such a way either, but the members knew just how grand and meaningful of a moment that Grammy nomination would be so they wanted to not only film it for themselves as a memory, but also to share it with us. Also this line is quite telling to me: “It would have been somewhat inappropriate to ask the members to film when the nominations were going to be announced so late at night,” Bang recalled”. While some claim awful things against BH, little things like this, to me, show that there are still boundaries that the staff and producers keep and won’t cross unless given explicit permission or receiving an explicit request to do so, like they did in this case. 
BH isn’t perfect by any means, they are a company after all (can we talk about the horrible shipping prices? And more general price tags on merchandise etc?) but at least when it comes to the treatment of their artists they seem leaps ahead of other agencies and BTS genuinely satisfied with working and being with them for more than a decade now, so as fan, who am I to judge that? Especially when we keep getting tiny pieces of “proof” that show that the members have good relationships with those they work with, some staff being already with them for years or even since the beginning, when Hoseok gets called “Hobi-nim” or “Hobi Hobi-nim” cutely by their stylists, when Tae’s bodyguard/manager gently fixes his hair when he notices Tae is still half asleep and his hair askew, or Seokjin sought “shelter” against one of their managers when he got shy at the airport a few years ago. 
The more fans can tell that the artists are having fun and feel safe, the happier they are to share the videos, and this can continue to spread outside the fandom, resulting in all sorts of related or derivative media referencing the original. 
Overall I’m really impressed with the level of journalism that the staff working on Weverse Magazine have exhibited so far. They could’ve just created fluff pieces with zero substance to them, wrote sugar sweet "articles” full of empty praise and phoned in the interviews with the members for the BE Comeback Interviews, but instead we got really interesting things instead, like their article about the Grammys or one of the first articles that highlighted the racism and gatekeeping BTS have experienced over the years abroad where they even called out some people by name which felt like the perfect (justified) power move. If you haven’t yet, I very much recommend looking through all the articles and interviews and giving them a read. It really is worth it and written in a language everyone regardless of their level of English can understand while staying interesting to read without appearing simplified or “dumbed down”. 
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samirant · 4 years
Text
The Saga of Backpfeifengesicht
It is August 22nd and the Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange anonymity is over! And with this, I can finally tell the tale of how I got repeatedly cockblocked fic-blocked by @ajoblotofjunk​ - because without that sly little minx, I never, ever, would have gotten to write Backpfeifengesicht. The thanks and blame lies almost entirely at her feet. 
The following is rather gif-heavy, thanks to some of my favorite shows. Brace yourselves. 
You could assume the story starts with this:
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It does not.
It really started with this:
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And then...
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And from there it took off!
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It ended up being @slipsthrufingers​, @nire-the-mithridatist​ and @firesign23​ who took the helm on the exchange. You’ll notice that I’m not anywhere in these conversations, mostly because I’d never done a fic exchange in my life, let alone run one. The decision to stay a silent supporter in the background was an easy one to make. Surely that way I could stay outside of the chaos and drama that was sure to come. 
Little did I know.
The exchange opened and the numbers ticked up. Best estimates were that fifty writers would sign up and the exchange got TWICE that. It was phenomenal, exciting, wonderful - and thus the work began. What prompts would we get, who would we write for, what would we write?
Then, an email:
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I knew @brynnmck​, or at least of her. Best buds with sdwolfpup aka @ajoblotofjunk​, lives in the States and I knew for a fact that she  enjoyed my writing in the past. This is going to be a breeze.
(Oh, I was a sweet, naive summer child.)
There were three different prompt options: rock star fic, vacation fic, and an oh-no-only-one-bed fic. I struck the last one out right away because I’d literally just done a Sansaery story utilizing that plot and didn’t want to repeat myself so blatantly. Like so many others, I went to my friends for help with planning, having one conversation in particular with @forbiddenfantasies1​ that promptly fell out of my brain.
(Three weeks later…)
The vacation prompt seemed the most inviting and I started to wonder, huh, what if Jaime and Brienne are modern adrenaline junkies and they do extreme vacations, like BASE jumping?
...I know nothing about BASE jumping.
And, what’s more, in the course of that time period, I read a fic by sdwolfpup where she referenced BASE jumping between the two of them. I chuckled to myself and tossed that idea aside. Back to brainstorming!
Inspiration struck! I decided on the vacation prompt - with a twist! I started writing! I turned to my good friend @forbiddenfantasies1 aka FF and said I HAVE SOMETHING YAAAAY: 
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And I took a second to wonder… wait. Did she tell me this three weeks ago? 
Did I...? 
...oh no. 
Oh, no no no.
I searched our Discord history and...
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I stole my friend’s prompt. I STOLE HER PROMPT.
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That’s not me throwing a gauntlet, that’s me throwing away my bit of fic in the garbage, where it belonged. THE GALL. THE FAULTY MEMORY THAT LED TO MY WORST ACTION.
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FF tried to be gracious about it, though she was in no way at fault. NO WAY. We had a long talk. And then a longer one. And then another where I said ENOUGH! You write yours and I’ll find something different, it’s the right thing to do. 
So I turned to the Rock Star Fic. Music. Guitars. Not my bag, but there’s something there. The brainstorming began again. Then, courtesy of @ajoblotofjunk :
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Wait, what?
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SDWOLFPUP AKA BRYNN’S BESTIE
IS
WRITING
A
MUSIC
AU
Not just anyone. Her best friend. A brilliant, brilliant writer. 
There was only one thing I could do. 
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So there went mine.
(Slips: TWO CAAAAKES!
Sami: HER BEST FRIEEEEEEEND! NO!)
Commence brainstorming, part… whateverthefuck, I don’t even know.
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And some more brainstorming. (And the beginning of some A+ dramatics.)
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It... was not pretty.
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My friends reminded me that it only had to be a thousand words - I could do that, it was highly attainable, I just had to find something. Anything. FF knows Brynn and said that she’s so chill! She’ll enjoy anything, just give it a shot!
I gave it a shot.
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The struggle continued. My brain was stuck on the fact that I had been a bad, prompt-thieving friend and then that whatever sdwolfpup already had cooking was surely miles ahead of what I hadn’t been able to piece together. My friends told me to stop being so dramatic. I said:
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Finally. An idea came to mind. Something simple, maybe even a single scene. The vacation prompt. Perhaps… Brienne goes on vacation. No one knows her, she doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone, maybe she decides to take a chance on that handsome man at the bar.
Yes, I told my dear @Luthienebonyx. I think that’s what I’m going to do. Brienne meets Jaime in a bar.
ONE HOUR LATER:
ONE.
HOUR.
LATER.
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And if you aren’t convinced that karma wasn’t out to get me, may I draw your attention to the acknowledgement in the notes:
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J’accuse! FF! @forbiddenfantasies1​ !!!!!!
Et tu, FF?
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INDEED, CAPTAIN RAYMOND HOLT. INDEED.
I was languishing. Suffering. Bemoaning the very idea that I should even be in the exchange at all!!!
Meanwhile, SDW:
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And I am:
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I turned to FF, all HOW COULD YOU!
She was understandably confused. 
I was back to the drawing board.
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There was a serious discussion of handing off my prompts to another writer, trading with someone so that I could get over my writer’s block - or at least stop getting fic-blocked by a certain talented author who was surely in cahoots with my friend-enemy FF.
FF tried to talk some sense into me. And she handed me, as it has come to be known: Brynnformation.
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I decided to give it one. last. go. 
And I remembered.
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Nine months later, the time had come for Backpfeifengesicht. 
I held it close to my chest. Very close. So close that I stopped checking tumblr for fear of discovering that sdwolfpup had caught the scent of my story in the air and eclipsed me yet again. When my friends asked how it was going, I was perfectly reasonable, totally chill, very:
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I was informed that sdwolfpup had gone on vacation, THANK GOD, I WAS SAFE FOR A WEEK.
After I got past the murderous paranoia, I started to put a story together. Vacations. Road trips. Baseball. And, as it said in the prompts, Brynn enjoys herself some J/B lovin’. FF pointed out that Brynn had a fondness for lovin’ that involves tables.
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And with that Friend-Enemy FF became Friend FF once more, as she should always be considered.
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All hail Brynnformation!
Yes. It was Backpfeifengesicht’s moment to shine.
(I… stopped checking sdw’s tumblr. For my own sense of self and stability. If she came up with a random german name, I was sure to throw in the towel.)
I wrote and wrote and wrote some more. I refused to let my friends see it for fear of jinxing the whole damn thing. I was nearly halfway through when I had a truly horrible day at work and the only thing that cheered me was to break my silence and share a bit of it with @forbiddenfantasies and @elizadunc - they were new to my whining in ways that Slips, Nire, Luthien and Firesign had grown immune to.
Their response?
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Though I was still in a mindset more like:
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FF: Sami, stop freaking out.
Sami: I CAN’T.
I looped in the rest of my friends, so they could beta and also convince me not to bin the entire thing all over again. It was the work of SIX PEOPLE to keep me from giving up this whole damn thing.
SIX PEOPLE.
At last, the story was done and I landed somewhere between:
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and
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Don’t believe me?
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I kept my eye out for sdwolfpup. If she was watching, she was being clever about it. 
I edited. 
My friends and wonderful betas tried to talk me down off the ledge. Repeatedly.
I made myself wait to post anyway, and not without one last freak out.
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AND
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SHE
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DID
But hey, she also said:
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Gee... I wonder how that happened?
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@forbiddenfantasies1​ - you are a filthy liar and the goddamn best <3 This story would not exist without you or sdwolfpup’s fic-blocking ways. My love and my echoing screams of despair to you both. 
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