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sheetsonfire · 2 years

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Second Chances Part 3

Fandom: Chicago Med

Characters: Connor Rhodes x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: swearing, car accident, injuries

Word Count: 2784

Requested By Anon: Hi ☺️ Could i request a Connor Rhodes imagine where the reader is his ex and also a nurse at the med. One time you get in a terrible car crash and get to the ER where Connor gets called to save you. You nearly die during the surgery but he saves you and stays with you all the time till you wake up. Then he keeps caring for you during your whole recovery and you slowly start getting your old feelings back, so you decide on a second chance. Hope this is ok ❤️

This part 3. Part 1, Part 2

You took far too long to come back to a sinus rhythm, more than Connor could stand, and he really couldn’t take a lot. Not when it came to you. By the time he’s done giving CPR, he does his best to remain in control and keep the emotion rolling through him at bay. His hands and arms feel close to numb, an uncomfortable tenseness in his veins that leaves him with the urge to give in to the shaking.

He breathes heavily, letting one of the nurses wipe his forehead. “Okay, let’s not leave this any longer than it’s already been, finish on the abdomen, then we get this fasciotomy done. We cannot let her wait any longer, not without great risk to her leg.” His jaw is set tight, even Zanetti who was quick to make comments and barbed jokes couldn’t bring herself to do that right now.

“You heard him, let’s get this finished.” She reaffirms, giving Connor one more glance before deciding it was better to just let him push through and get it over with. The chance of her getting Connor to leave you now was near out of the question.

However, she did have one suggestion, “Dr Rhodes, your input is always of sincere value, but could I suggest you see the rest of the surgery through in an advisory role? That CPR was a lot of energy taken out of you.” It was a gamble to be sure, with such a strong feeling towards you, Zanetti didn’t know if Connor would take it the wrong way. He eyes her, weighing up the sincerity of her question, but he sees that she is coming at it with genuine concern.

Connor knows it's irrational to replay the conversation from the parking lot over and over, he was going to work and you were going home - there was no reason why he would have or could have stopped you from getting in the car tonight. He had wanted to say so much more under the bright glare of the parking lot lights, the crisp air that bit his skin made him want to wrap you up and hold you close. Instead, those shy and awkward smiles were all that were exchanged, and then you had gone to meet your fate.

He had done his resolute best to accept your decision regarding the relationship you had shared, especially as he knew on some level that time apart perhaps was better for the both of you. It wasn't worth lying to himself that he had been entirely focused on you because he knew he hadn't. In fact, Dr Latham had suggested that he may be suffering from burnout. Yet, you nor very few people knew that since your split, and Dr Latham's concerns, he had made a concerted effort to meet weekly with Dr Charles - to work through the things that were gnawing at him. Both his career and personal life had since felt healthier and more nurtured, the only missing piece seemed to be you.

Looking at you now, ashen and hooked up to a myriad of machines, carefully being pieced together by himself and his colleagues, he knew without question that, whether it was romantic or platonic, he needed to have you close. You were always worth his time, his affection, and his attention - it was unimaginable now that he could go another day without letting you know just how he felt.

Dr Zanetti brings Connor back out of his reverie, "Okay, her BP is holding, no further signs of distress or internal bleeders, let's get her closed up and sent to ICU for monitoring and the rest of her injuries." Samantha pulls away from you on the table and faces Connor with something that resembles a smile.

"She's gonna be fine, Rhodes." Patting his shoulder as she starts to head out to wash up and change out for her next surgery. Connor stands there for a moment before he manages to catch Sam's arm,

"Thank you, thank you for all of it back there. I-"

"Listen, I get it. You did well, you did everything you were supposed to. The CPR was intense, doesn't matter your relation, I'd have still recommended the step back." Zanetti was never one to sugarcoat, even in the most precarious of circumstances, so Connor felt satisfied that she wasn't just placating him. He murmurs a quiet, "Thanks." before letting her leave.

Connor follows the patient transport team out of the OR and into the corridor leading back into the main sections of the hospital. It's then that he sees Sharon Goodwin heading his way, face etched in worry.

"Dr Rhodes." She greets, a gentle hand coming to rest on his arm.

"Miss Goodwin." Connor's eyes are now weighed with dark circles, his hair unkempt from the scrub cap, and a solemn look on his face that overshadows the smile he offers her.

"I just heard. How is she?" She watches you get pushed down the corridor, still on the vent, hooked to various drips.

Connor clears his throat, caught off guard by his body's desperate desire to burst into tears. His voice thick with emotion,

"She...she had a tough time, I, uh, I had to bring her back. She's had three surgeries at once tonight. They're taking her to the ICU for recovery, monitoring and further treatment."

Sharon squeezes his arm softly, rubbing soothingly with all the affection and warmth of a mother, something she had oftentimes been to Connor since he arrived at Med.

"I'll let the nurses know, they have all been so worried about her, Will too. You just go be with her now, alright? I've got Davis on call for the rest of the trauma service."

Tears brim in his eyes, he is so close to the floodgates opening, that he can only nod and whisper a broken, "Thanks." before he excuses himself and makes his way to your room in the ICU.

The nurses are still getting you hooked up to the monitors in your room when Connor catches up. He lets them work as they make sure your lines are secure, he then asks the nurses a few questions and discusses what Dr Zanetti had instructed going forward.

After nearly thirty minutes of various people coming and going, Connor sits in a chair facing your eerily still body, slumped in his scrubs, head resting on a hand as he scrunches his eyes closed for a moment. Finally beginning to feel like he’d already done two shifts in only half a night.

Connor exhales, opening his eyes again, daring to actually look at you properly. The gash on your forehead had been cleaned and sutured. You were covered in various dressings and stitches, the steady waves of your heart monitor telling Connor what you couldn’t. I’m okay, I’m here.

He thinks about how easily he could have lost you, so much of your surgery was time-dependent, the burning in his arms a stark reminder of how close you had come to leaving him. He breathes in, then out, trying to let the pain in his chest pass. Stomach full of that sudden dropping feeling when you feel like somebody has taken the floor beneath your feet.

“You can’t do that to me again, alright? I know maybe I don’t have a right to worry, but I can’t lose you. You’re still a friend, you’re still…”

The door to your room opens and Connor’s words die in his mouth, looking to see who it is. He finds Will standing there, a sympathetic smile being directed at Connor.

“Hey, man,”

“Hey. Goodwin called you?”

Will gives a slight shake of the head. “Actually, I was waiting to hear from Y/N, and then I got a call from Jay. He heard some patrolmen talking about the accident as he was leaving the district. Apparently, they knew it was Y/N in the car, they’d just come back from crowd control at the scene.”

Connor nods, taking in the words but not having much to say to them. He couldn’t really think much of anything right now.

Will quietly shuts the door, stepping to Connor’s side as he takes in the sight of you with a sharp intake of breath. “How’s she doing?” Resting a hand on Connor’s shoulder.

It’s not complicated as to why Connor feels the emotions he’d stuffed away during the surgery coming to the fore now, his voice shakes as tears fill his eyes. “It was, uh, it was bad, Will. I had just finished closing her thoracotomy, and she…” He can’t finish the sentence, frustratedly swiping at his eyes.

“I got her back. They finished a fasciotomy on her knee and a laparotomy. No further signs of internal bleeds, she’s gonna be here for at least a week for monitoring and recovery.”

Will rubs Connor’s back comfortingly, his own stomach gnawing with worry at the sight of you. You were a dear friend, and he knew just how much you missed Connor in your life. It didn’t take a genius to see that Connor clearly felt the same.

“Listen, why don’t you get a shower, something to eat and drink, I can sit with her for a while, do what you need to feel more human again.”

Connor hesitates, looking from Will and then to you. The chances were that you wouldn’t wake until morning, and it wouldn’t be any good for him to not be at his best for you when you woke up.

“Uh, yeah okay. Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Will. Really.” Will brings him in for a brief hug, squeezing him gently.

“It’s no sweat. Just take it easy, alright? And I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit, call me if anything changes.” Connor’s eyes are pleading, already feeling anxiety about leaving you.

Will smiles encouragingly, “No doubt I will, it’s alright.”

Connor only spares himself a quick shower and a change of scrubs, the hot water made a small effort to ease the tension in his muscles. He hastily grabbed a bottle of water from the vending machine before starting back toward the ICU. When he arrives Will is holding your hand, he stops himself from entering, letting Will finish having his moment.

“I need you to get better, alright? Who’s gonna kick my ass for all the stupid stuff I do, and then invite me to Molly’s right after? We’ll take care of you, Y/N. Connor, me, Maggie, there are so many of us who love you. I saw Kelly on the way up here, I swear he’s already making a rotational schedule for who’s gonna look after you. And as for Connor… he really loves you, you know that, don’t you? He knows it more than ever, Y/N, I see the way he looks at you. I see the way you look at him. You both deserve a second chance.”

Connor can’t believe how much he and Will have come a long since they first met, he never imagined that he would hear the stubborn and wary Halstead talk about him with such affection. Will was someone he would consider a dear friend now, and it was clear the feeling was mutual in the way that he spoke.

Finally, he lets himself back into the room, offering a weary smile for Will who stands up. Putting a hand up to stop Will from leaving, “You still stay, man, you don’t have to leave. I know she matters to you too.”

“She does, but really I should get back before my shift in the morning. You need to have your time with her too. She’ll want you to be here when she wakes up.”

Connor’s face must give his angst away, a look of scepticism passes across his features.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear what I said when you were eavesdropping. She still cares, Connor. You still care.”

There isn’t much for the surgeon to say, an ever so faint blush at being busted for eavesdropping. He can only bite his lip, nodding, “I do. I really do.”

Will gives another reassuring pat as he shimmies past to let Connor into the space by your bed. “I know. I’ll check back in when my shift starts, okay? If you need anything, call me, page me, whatever. Alright?”

“I will. Thanks, Halstead.”

“Anytime, Rhodes.”

In the early hours of the morning, the hand Connor is holding starts to move ever so lightly, making him sit up and blink with bleary eyes. Refocusing on your face as he sees you trying to open them, a slight groan of discomfort. Connor’s stomach flutters wildly with anticipation and relief, starting to feel exponentially better, just at the mere suggestion of you waking up.

He presses the 'call' button for a nurse to come by and check your meds, leaning forward as his eyes search for yours to open.

"Y/N, can you hear me?" He murmurs, watching as you swallow hard, mouth feeling like chalk.

Your body feels heavy, weighed down by the equipment, the dressings, the meds. But you're sure you heard the one voice you'd want to hear, and it encourages you to push your weary eyes open.

"Connor." You smile ever so slightly, becoming aware of the hand that's holding yours. The smile disappears, however, when small flashes of what happened right before you lost consciousness push their way into your waking perception. You go to speak again but are caught off by a round of dry coughs.

He grabs a small cup and pours some water from the jug on your table. "Here we go, small sips, I got you."

You take a sip, relishing the coolness of the liquid as you feel running down your body, into your empty stomach.

"Thanks." You rasp.

Your eyes close again, your head gently throbbing with an ache in your eyes.

"Mhm, post-car crash headache, it's great." You mumble.

Connor laughs quietly, "Of all the things to complain about."

The nurse that enters sets about checking your responses with Connor's assessment, he informs you of your various injuries, feeling his heart pang with strange guilt as he watches your face fall into utter dismay at just how serious your accident had been.

Letting the nurse hang a new saline drip, as well as another round of painkillers, Connor keeps a respectful distance. All too aware that although one of your doctors, he was also currently in your company as an ex-boyfriend, he felt like he couldn't kiss your forehead or brush your hair away like he wanted to. Couldn't tell you that you should never do that to him again, couldn't tell you how much it sent him into a spiral seeing you like that in the OR.

Silent raging thoughts passed in the air between you.

You sat in dazed silence as you stared across the room, letting the nurse move about as you feel Connor's protective gaze on you. You knew it was unfair to want him to act in a capacity more than a friend, to want him to be your boyfriend at this moment felt like a fickle thing, even though you knew that desire had been simmering pretty much since the day you'd broken up. It was a regret right from the start, even if you thought it was for the right reasons that you had done it.

So you sat fiddling with the material of your blanket, afraid to look into Connor's eyes and see the hurt. Though it did cross your mind that he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to be, and that comforted you.

The nurse leaves, and Connor is fueled with newfound confidence, the urge to protect and preserve your well-being was the driving force in the confession that was ready to tumble from his lips.

"Y/N, I-..." He opens his mouth but the words don't find their way to you. Instead, they swerve at the last moment, and you're left with a phrase that puts a lump in your throat.

"-I'll go and get Will, he'll want to know you're awake. And I'm sure Maggie would want to come up too." He swallows hard, a sea of his own internal monologue rose up in angry waves, chastising him for chickening out.

You nod timidly, biting your lip with a sad smile. Hoping you'd pass it off as tiredness and fragility.

"Sure, that sounds good." You murmur, watching with sad eyes as Connor turns to leave.

You sit alone with the gnawing feeling that something truly had been lost between the two of you.

End of Part 3

A/N: Angst-y angst! Hopefully in Part 4 things can start to take a turn, and the reader will get to go home. Who's going to care for her?

#connor rhodes x reader #one chicago #chicago med #second chances

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inkblotsandpapertrails · 3 years

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Out of Sight, Out of Mind [K.H.]

Warnings: None

Pairing: Kaoru Hitachiin x Male Reader

Description: Kaoru gets a love note, and he and Hikaru are eager to play their old game again. You didn’t seem to get the memo.

A/N: this fandom doesn’t give kaoru enough love imo, plus there are hardly any male reader fics, i’m VERY tired of the ‘softboy innocent good-twin kaoru who does nothing wrong ever’ persona the fandom cooked up and i also lowkey wanted to branch out with the type of reader personalities i write so. kaoru oneshot here we goooo-

It was a boy.

That was a little unexpected, Kaoru supposed. He hadn’t even thought there were any out gay guys at Ouran Academy – what with most students coming from old money and traditional parents, the only same-gender relationships anyone ever really saw were the pretend relationships at the Host Club, and those were just carefully scripted fantasies designed to entertain women. Still, there you stood, tugging sheepishly on your blue blazer as you glanced around the courtyard, searching in such a pitiful way Kaoru almost found it cute.

He recognized you, a little. You were in a few of his classes – [Y/N] something. You were decently well-liked, he supposed; you got along with most people, and most people got along with you, but he’d noticed you didn’t really have a group of people you usually hung out with. You just sort of floated from person to person until they got tired of you. It was a trait he and Hikaru had always rolled their eyes and scoffed at – how little self-respect must you have to let yourself be used like that? And yet you’d still put yourself out there and sent him a sappy love note. It was a little intriguing, he supposed, but not enough to make him genuinely interested.

He shot a glance to the bushes that hid Hikaru from view. He didn’t seem too concerned; merely shrugged and nodded in your direction, as if to say, ‘what are you waiting for?’. Kaoru rolled his eyes and sauntered with ease to where you were fidgeting.

“You wrote this?” He asked, holding the note between his index and middle finger. You jumped at the noise and whipped around, your shoulders raised up to your ears. You seemed to relax a little once you realized it was only him, but you still looked stiff and tense. Kaoru tried not to make his grin too obvious. God, this was going to be a fun one.

“Uh – k-kinda.” You said with a sheepish smile. “I, um – I’m probably not what you were expecting, huh?”

Kaoru fought the urge to roll his eyes. The self-pity act. He and Hikaru had seen it countless times from countless girls, a desperate attempt to gain sympathy and lure them into accepting their silly confessions.

“No, but then again, I doubt I’m what you were expecting, either.”

You frowned and cocked your head.

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m Hikaru, not Kaoru. You must’ve gotten our desks mixed up.”

You blanched, a look of outright horror crossing your face for a split second before morphing into confusion and – guilt? Hm, that was new. Normally it was just disappointment.

“What?” You mumbled, more to yourself than Kaoru. “But I thought – I was certain I...” You sighed and raked a hand through your hair. “Dammit... I’m so sorry, Hikaru-kun. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Kaoru shrugged. He tried not to laugh at how confused you looked, your head tilted and your eyebrows knitted. You let your emotions show so obviously – tearing you apart would be awfully fun. “I was wondering... Would you perhaps be happy going out with me, instead?” You look downright stricken when he says the words, a bright blush rising on your cheeks. If Kaoru strained his ears hard enough, he could hear Hikaru snickering in the bushes. “I’ve always thought you were handsome, [Y/N]-kun, and I know for a fact Kaoru likes someone else. Are you interested at all?”

Your mouth gaped open and shut for a moment before waving your arms frantically, as if you could wipe Kaoru’s words away.

“I – what?!” You asked, voice cracking in your throat. “You’d – you’d do that?”

Kaoru shrugged.

“Of course. Like I said, I do like you.”

“But I-!” You stopped and started your sentence a few times, desperately stumbling over your words. “You’d really be okay with that? Knowing I’m only with you because you remind me of your brother?”

“Remind?” Kaoru said with an amused smirk. “We’re the same person, [Y/N]-kun.”

You looked as if the air had been knocked out of your chest. Your expression was downright horrified, devastated, even. Kaoru almost felt uncomfortable at the sheer pain and sympathy in your eyes.

“I – Hikaru, are you okay?” You said abruptly, completely forgetting the honorific. Kaoru frowned at the question – no one had ever asked it before. You were supposed to be crying and calling them mean and running away so you wouldn’t have to listen to them anymore. What were you doing?!

“I – of course I-“ Kaoru stuttered. It felt like his entire vocabulary had been shoved out of his brain, replaced only by that one question, dripping with sadness and concern – Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?

“You’re not the same.” You said fervently, grabbing Kaoru by his shoulders. “Hikaru, I- I know I don’t know you that well, and we rarely talk, but – you have to know you and your brother are different people.”

No, no, they weren’t, they were exactly the same, that was the game, that was how it worked, why weren’t you playing the game?!

Tires crunched over the gravel of the driveway. You jerked your head towards the school gates and cringed.

“That’s my car. Shit. Okay.” You yanked a pen out of your pocket and flipped Kaoru’s hand over, scribbling a number on the back of his palm. “That’s my cell number, um. If you ever want to talk about this, or – I dunno, if you ever want to feel like you, instead of just Hikaru and Kaoru, call me, okay? We’ll play video games or whatever. If you want. You don’t have to.”

You squeezed his hand before letting it go, offering him a small smile.

“Take care.”

You bolted down the courtyard, waving frantically to your driver. You had just reached the doors when you jerked upright and sprinted back to where Kaoru was standing stock-still, yelling a quick apology to your driver, who seemed to be growing increasingly frustrated with your antics.

“One more thing!” You said quickly, your voice a little raspy from running back and forth. “Um – could you not tell Kaoru about this? I kinda promised myself I’d only ask him out once I could tell the two of you apart, and, um – well, you know.” You laughed awkwardly and scratched at your neck. “Anyways, um – bye!”

Kaoru stood in stunned silence as you ran back to your driver, apologizing profusely as you jumped into the backseat. You waved at him as you left. Without even thinking, he waved back. A slow half-wave that barely even counted, in his opinion, but still.

He was snapped out of his trance by a soft punch to his shoulder.

"What the hell happened there?" Hikaru frowned. "You were supposed to play the game!"

Kaoru looked at his brother, unable to force the words out of his throat. He searched everywhere for something that would've given them away - a mark on his face, a wrinkle in his uniform, hell, even just a crumb leftover from lunch, but… Nothing. As always, they looked exactly the same.

And yet, [Y/N] had looked so confused when Kaoru said he was Hikaru...

"I kinda promised myself I'd only ask him out once I could tell the two of you apart…"

"You're not the same!"

"You have to know that you and your brother are different people."

You didn’t mean it. You couldn’t have. No one ever won the ‘Which One Is Hikaru?’ game. You’d believed him when he said he was Hikaru, so you couldn’t tell them apart. But then... Why did you say all those things?

"Kaoru?" Hikaru asked, his frown morphing into a look of concern. "Are you alright? Did he say something to you?! I'll kill him-!"

"It's fine, Hikaru." Kaoru said quietly. "Don't worry about it."

"But - what did-?"

"They just asked me if I wanted to hang out and play video games, that's all." Kaoru huffed, forcing himself to roll his eyes. "He made it out like he wanted to be friends, but I could tell he was trying to hit on me. Still, he never really said he'd be happy with either one of us, so I wasn't sure what to do."

Hikaru furrowed his brow, and Kaoru tried to keep his face neutral. He'd never lied to his brother before, save for when he set him up with Haruhi, but he'd made it fairly obvious that that was the aim of the game. The only reason Hikaru hadn't called him on it was because he wanted to go so badly. This was a real lie, a trick that only Kaoru was in on. He didn't like pulling tricks without Hikaru. He especially didn't like pulling them on Hikaru.

"Alright…" Hikaru said slowly. "If you say so. Are you… Sure? That you're okay?"

Kaoru laughed and wrapped his arms around his brother.

"You're always doing the protective brother thing, Hikaru!"

"Well, I can't help it! You're my baby brother!"

"We're the same age!"

"Two minutes older, excuse you."

"Shut up."

They laugh and joke all the way home, falling into their natural twin swing. Hikaru didn't ask about you, and Kaoru didn't tell. He washed your number off his hand the moment they got home. Some of the ink still clung to his skin, refusing to be swept away. Kaoru glared and scrubbed the cloth against his hand until his skin turned pink and painful. Nevertheless, one stubborn speck remaind. Kaoru hid it under his sleeve. Out of sight, out of mind.

He couldn't sleep. He was used to Hikaru's snoring, but tonight, he just couldn't tone it out. He tried playing on his phone, tapping random apps and sending random memes and cursed images to people in his contacts (Kyoya was the only one who responded. The death threat was colourful and certainly made him laugh, but it didn’t get his mind off of- it didn't make him tired.). After a few hours, Kaoru began to yawn, and he felt his eyelids slipping shut.

02:36, his phone's clock read.

Kaoru blinked.

02:52.

He opened his contacts. Blinked again.

03:09.

He closed his eyes.

"Kaoru!"

He jerked awake.

07:28.

"Wake up, we're gonna be late!" Hikaru called from where he was fixing his tie.

"Coming!"

Kaoru dressed as quickly as he could and rushed out of the room with Hikaru close behind. They were halfway down the stairs when Kaoru jerked to a halt, sending Hikaru crashing into his back.

"I forgot my phone!" Kaoru explained hurriedly as he began sprinting back up the stairs. "Wait for me!"

He ignored Hikaru's groan and ran back to their room. His bedside table was empty, which was strange - he always left his phone there. He vaguely remembered using it last night, when he couldn't sleep, and began stripping the blankets off the bed and flipping his pillows in search for his lost phone. After Hikaru's second yell, he found it, lodged between his bedside table and his bedpost, and was about to rush out of the room when-

New Contact Successfully Added.

Kaoru didn't remember adding anyone.

The spot of ink burned beneath his skin.

He tapped the notification.

[Y/N] [L/N]

The number was the same.

“Kaoru!” Hikaru snapped as he barged back into the room. “What is up with you today?!”

“Huh? Nothing.” Kaoru said quickly, shoving his phone into his pocket before Hikaru could see the screen. “Let’s go.”

He ignored Hikaru’s scoff of ‘about time’ and all but ran to the car. They rode to school in silence - Hikaru was in a sour mood from being late, and Kaoru couldn’t bring himself to speak. He rubbed the ink spot on his skin. It had all but entirely faded now, a pale grey against his skin.

Out of sight, out of mind, he thought bitterly.

What idiot came up with that saying?

#ohshc #ohshc x reader #ohshc x male reader #kaoru hitachiin x reader #kaoru hitachiin #ouran high school host club

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franeridart · 3 years

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Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the “reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it’s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha

#fran answers #oh two of these are Long #.....#long post #in case the readmore doesn't work for whatever reason

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otomefoxystar · 3 years

Text

Studying

Fandom : Obey Me!

Pairing : Solomon X MC

Warnings: A very slight mention of emotional abuse

Genre: Fluff

Solomon and Simeon were standing in the hallway having a light conversation, but today was not a good day. _ _ _ couldn’t stay focused like there was something pulling on her thoughts to put her in another time and place. She recognized this place all too well, the smell was familiar. It brought her mood down from her usual cheery self. This happened occasionally she would go through an ultimate low, but it hadn’t happened once while she had been in Devildom so why now?

She walked out of her class with a stone cold expression on her face and kept her head down as she passed Simeon and Solomon. It didn’t have her desired effect though, instead of them not noticing her they immediately became concerned. They watched as she walked through the hall sulking.

“Do you think we should see if she’s okay?” Simeon said still watching her.

“No, I think she’ll be alright. Sometimes humans need their space, and she obviously didn’t intend on talking to us.” Simeon looked concerned and he creased his eyebrows together.

“ Simeon are you ready to go?” Luke said walking up to the pair.

He nodded his head and patted Solomon on the shoulder as he walked off with Luke towards Purgatory Hall. Solomon watched as _ _ _ figure went down the stairs in RAD when Mammon came rushing towards her and she immediately turned herself away from Mammon.

“ Leave me alone Mammon.” She said as she continued walking. He ran to catch up with her.

“ What’s the matter?” He asked lowering his voice.

“ I said leave me alone!” She pushed him away from her.

“ What’s got your panties in a bunch huh? I was just tryin’ to be nice.”

Solomon watched the whole exchange and took it upon himself to help her get away. He walked up to them, and smiled before he said.

“ There you are _ _ _ I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“ Huh? Why?” She looked at Solomon with a confused look.

“ Did you forget? We had plans to study after school, c’mon let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand and began dragging her towards Purgatory Hall leaving Mammon there by himself. Once they were a good distance away from RAD he stopped and looked at her. She looked sad.

“You are coming over, you need to stop thinking of whatever is on your mind. You look pathetically miserable.” She glared at him.

“ No thanks.” She turned to walk off but he grabbed her hand once again.

“ That wasn’t a request.” He started leading her towards Purgatory Hall.

“ Solomon stop!”

“ Nope, not until you tell me what is bothering you.”

She sighed finally giving into him. He took her into his room.

“ This is the best place to be away from everyone. No one really comes over to my room.”

He motioned for her to sit down. So she sat on his bed putting her hands on her lap and looking down. Solomon took off his coat and looked over at her with her head hung down.

He placed his coat on the back of a chair and softly walked over to the bed and sat next to her. He put his hand on her back.

“ Tell me what’s wrong” All she did was shake her head.

“ Come on it’s okay. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up.” He placed his hand on top of hers encouraging her to tell him.

She finally looked at him, and for once his eyes looked kind and tender and understanding. He was listening and he genuinely wanted her to tell him. He was the other human, but he’s had a long life. Her problems probably would seem small and meager to him.

“ Trust me _ _ _. I won’t tell anyone.” She closed her eyes tight and opened them again.

“ I don’t want to be a burden.” He shook his head

“ You aren’t! I want to know I want to hear you.” Finally she relented and bit her lip.

“ I’m not this perfect princess everyone thinks I am. I’m broken and my thoughts just won’t go away and I want to just crawl in a hole and never come out.” Solomon stroked her hair as she spoke, urging her to keep talking.

“ I was in an emotionally abusive relationship, he was always yelling at me and degrading me. It wasn’t a good feeling.” Solomon creased his eyebrows together.

“ Can I ask you something?” She nodded.

“ Have you been with anyone since this?” She was startled it was definitely not the question she had envisioned.

“ I mean I’ve been with people to uh ....fill urges if you understand what I mean, but romantically...No.”

“ And how long ago was it that you split?”

“ Almost two years now.” He hummed.

“ I think you’re scared that you are going to get hurt like that again if you give yourself to someone.” He cleared his throat and put his hands on her cheeks forcing her to look him in the eyes.

“ You know what else I think?”

“ What?”

“ That you need to be loved the way you deserve, no one deserves it more than you. It’s okay to be afraid and it’s okay to be cautious, but you deserve to be happy _ _ _.”

“ I don’t know, maybe I’m destined to be single all my life.” Solomon shook his head.

“ No, that wouldn’t be right. _ _ _ I want you to trust me, close your eyes.”

She did as Solomon said and closed her eyes, and he took her hand and intertwined there fingers together. It was such a simple act, but it seemed so intimate.

“ Keep your eyes closed.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, and they sat there in silence with their hands grasped together and their heads pressed onto each other for what seemed like forever. Then he spoke in a low voice, a voice filled with sultry and want. She hadn’t heard him talk this way before...Ever.

“ You can loosen the restraints on your heart.” He opened his eyes and pulled away running his finger across her lips. His touch sent electric shivers through her body.

“ I will never hurt you.” He said not giving her a moment to speak before he tenderly pressed his lips to hers.

_ _ _ tensed up momentarily from the shock, but then her body relaxed and Solomon pulled away from the sweet kiss.

“ Solomon?”

“ Just so you know I’m not doing this out of pity, I’m not that kind.” He brushed her bangs out of her face so he could see her green eyes.

“ Then why?” He smiled

“ Because..I”

He kissed her again feeling her velvety lips against his. He gave her a deep chaste kiss and pulled away.

“ love you.”

He went back to her lips, but threaded his hand threw her silky hair as he kissed her yet again. This time though he deepened the kiss. She put her free hand on the back of his neck, and exhaled deeply through her nose. She parted her lips and he took that opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth feeling the softness of her tongue tangling with his, as there kiss became more heated she pulled away. Looked at the blush dusting his face and ears.

“ Solomon... I” she took a deep breath

“ I love you too.” He smiled a genuine bright smile and then whispered in her ear.

“ Then will you be mine? I promise to never hurt you. I will be forever devoted to you.”

She nodded her head and smiled as she crashed her lips against his. He placed his hand on her cheek as he squeezed the hand he was holding only for her to squeeze back. When Asmo came bursting into his room.

“ Ooooh Solomon !” Asmo said in a sing song voice.

He stopped dead in his tracks as he realized what he walked in on. Solomon and _ _ _ holding hands with his hand cupping her cheek and her hand on the back of his neck, in a heated kiss.

“ Oh my goodness! You two are so cute!”

He squealed and had a huge smile on his face as the two of them swiftly pulled away at the sudden intrusion. They were both blushing a shade of deep red and they both pulled their hands away from each other.

“ Finally! It took you guys long enough to finally come together. Please don’t stop on my account.” Solomon cleared his throat.

“ Did you need something Asmodeus?” He stood there grinning pleased as punch.

“ No, no don’t worry about it. I’ll just uh shut the door.” He turned around and shut the door whistling down the hallway.

“ I thought you said no one comes over?”

“ Usually not. Must’ve been a special occasion.”

They both heard their DDD’s go off so they picked their phones up to look at the text.

—————————————————————————————————————————

Asmo: Love is in the air!❤️

Satan: What are you talking about Asmo?

Asmo: I just caught a pair of humans in a passionate kiss with intertwined fingers! They are so cute !

Mammon: Say What? They said they were going to study.

Asmo: Is that code for making out?

Lucifer: _ _ _ I want you home NOW!

Lucifer: You come too Solomon we need to have a talk about the birds and the bees.

Solomon: You do now that we are both adults right?

Lucifer: I understand that, but _ _ _ needs to understand everything. I don’t want you hurting her.

_ _ _: Really Lucifer? The birds and the bees? You don’t want him to hurt me? I am not a virgin Lucifer.

Lucifer: I’m going to pretend I didn’t read that. I need both of you over here as soon as possible!

End

———————————————————————————————————

“ I guess we better go”

Solomon said as he began to stand up, but _ _ _ grabbed his hand.

“Hold on, a couple more minutes”

_ _ _ pulled Solomon close again and they met each other in another fiery kiss. They knew they would be awhile before they made it over to the House of Lamentation. They also knew that they would have to endure hours of endless lecturing from a fuming Lucifer and most likely an embarrassing talk about the birds and the bees. Right now none of that mattered except for the feeling of each other’s lips.

#obey me !#obey me fanfic #obey me fandom #obey me Solomon

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

Text

The Dragonborn | M!Reader x Geralt of Rivia | Part II

Note: I split the oneshot because damn 12k does nobody want to read in one go xD

Fandoms: The Witcher (TV Series), The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Swearing, Gore, Slight OOC

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier meet a stranger in the woods while on the hunt for a special monster. They decide to team up but neither does Geralt realize that his prey is close to him nor does the stranger notice he's the one being hunted...

Word Count: 6938

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name!

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed.

Part I

_______

A few hours later, after they had eaten the rabbit, they began to look for tracks of the monster. There were a lot of them. For example, the scorched moss where Geralt almost turned into roasted meat, the dark footprints in the dirt, and the fallen trees.

The witcher was impressed by how good the warrior from Keizaal could search for tracks.

“You see that, Jaskier? The way the claws dig in the ground? It means the claws of the dovah are really big. That’s pretty unusual for female dragons, so it’s obvious we’re dealing with a male. But we uh... know that because Odahviing is male.”

While Jaskier and Y/N genuinely searched for any signs he just stared at the foreigner. He somehow felt like he had found a kindred spirit in the man standing in front with his back facing him.

A weird association, but there were only a few things that could really impress Geralt.

Magic, Fighting Skills, and usually breasts.

Which made him sound like a skirt chaser, but that wasn't it. It just meant what it meant. Dicks definitely didn't attract hi-

"What the hell?"

He lifted his eyes from the lower body of Y/N, and his breath hitched when those e/c eyes pierced his. Did he see...?

"The footprints are gone!"

Oh. That.

"That does make sense... Or not? It's a dragon, after all? They can fly. Or not? Can they?"

Jaskier stepped in front of him and obstructed his view on the other. Geralt turned and touched his face. His cheeks were burning. What's gotten into him? He remembered something Yennefer had told him once as a half-joke.

I sometimes think that if I haven't met you, you would have chosen someone who fights like you, thinks like you, who lives like you. And from what I believe that someone would have been a man. Because it needs a brute to move a brute's heart.

While his head was filled with thousand thoughts, Y/N and the bard inspected the tracks closer.

"It can't be that he took off. Do you see how the footprints are as deep as the others? If he wanted to fly away, they would be deeper because he had needed to shift his weight."

"Is that something you learned while hunting for the other dragons with the Dragonborn?"

The man from Keizaal nodded. Some locks fell into his face, and his expression was thoughtful while he searched for a plausible explanation. Geralt could see every feature of his sharp e/c eyes.

They were different from Yennefer's violet ones, their spark was different, but for other people, they must be as enthralling as the eyes of the sorceress to him. That's at least what he believed. They had a particular pull. He didn't feel it, but it was there. Puzzling, but powerful.

A cough pulled him away from Y/N's eyes, and Jaskier stared at him with a grin.

"What?" he asked, his voice almost defensive.

"Nothing," responded his friend with a knowing undertone. What the hell was going on?

"Well, I can't think of anything that happened. Witcher, what about you?"

The mesmerizing eyes turned to him, and he blinked. What was the question?

Thankfully, I always have a good answer ready.

"Hmm."

He shifted and knelt to see the footprints up close. They had a certain distance to each other as if the dragon was walking slowly. Y/N was right; he couldn't have flown away, the marks were too shallow. Either he disappeared into thin air, or the monster had an amazing control when it came to his weight.

"Strange..." was all he said.

He focused on the sounds around them, but there was nothing extraordinary. Just the whistle of the wind, a few birds singing, and the steady heartbeats of the other two men. It was a dead end.

"Fuck."

He looked up, surprised that he and the warrior of Keizaal said the same thing at the same time. Y/N shot him a grin, and Geralt snorted.

"Maybe we should try to set up a trap"

He turned and watched Jaskier's expression. It was a good idea, and they didn't have any other options, besides he wasn't really in the mood to search the whole forest for the dragon. The h/c haired man agreed and pulled a bow out of his satchel. The bard's eyes once again widened.

"I want a bag like this too."

"If you don't want to carry your things anymore, you can give them to me. I'll store them."

Jaskier smiled brightly, and Y/N returned it. Something flared up in Geralt's chest, but he ignored it. Damn bruises make my chest hurt.

The bard gave the foreigner their things, and he put them in his satchel.

"Let's think about the trap," the warrior tested the string of his bow and then focused his eyes on Geralt and Jaskier.

"Dragons are usually very picky about their food, but I belie- know that Odahviing is fine with deer meat. We should hunt some."

And they did. With the help of Geralt's tracking skills and crossbow and the Y/N's bow, they easily got two does. Although it took a while to find them since most animals steered free of the area where the dragon rampaged.

Geralt and Jaskier only watched, while Y/N slashed the throats of the already dead animals.

"Dovahs have a keen sense of smell; we have to cover our own scent."

He continued to drench his hands with the blood and even smeared some on his neck and armor. When he couldn't hear the other two approaching, Y/N turned around and tilted his head questioningly.

"U-Uh, what did you say?" asked the bard and avoided his gaze.

“What? Did I say something wrong? Can you... Is it a sacrilege to use doe bloo-"

Geralt interrupted him.

"We couldn't understand what you said because you spoke in a different language."

Y/N widened his eyes, and an apologetic look crossed his face.

"I'm sorry...”

Jaskier’s slightly odd expression concerned him and he examined the witcher. Geralt was more intrigued than scared by the fact the atmosphere in the woods seemed to have changed as soon as the other spoke in his probably native language.

The fact that Y/N’s voice got a lot deeper while he spoke, caused a shiver to run down his spine. The foreigner apologized again and then added:

“I said the dragon could smell us. We should cover our scent with the blood."

Jaskier didn't seem to like the idea, but the witcher nodded and followed his advice.

Soon the bard's and his hands were stained with doe blood. Geralt was unaffected by it since he already got used to it by hunting monsters for years, but the other man looked a little pale.

The warrior watched their actions and then approached the white-haired man. His yellow eyes followed all of his movements.

"You should also put some on your throat... It’s a place where a lot of sweat gathers."

As soon as Y/N touched his collarbone and neck, Geralt stiffened. Actually, he froze. Something about another man touching his carotid artery was really intimate. His nose caught the smell of iron, moss, and smoke.

Someone who lives like you.

Yennefer's words replayed in his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from unconsciously moving his head closer to the other man.

The warrior was only a few centimeters smaller than him, his head reached up to his eyebrows. The hands on his throat were rough and slippery, but they touched him with such gentleness, Geralt had to shiver.

He gulped, and his adam's apple pressed against Y/N's palm. The afternoon sun danced on the other man’s scars, and eyelashes and Geralt wondered if every man had such long ones. He breathed in and closed his eyes.

Is this the essence of a kindred spirit?

Suddenly Y/N's hands disappeared from his throat, and he could no longer feel the warrior's presence so close to him.

“Put some on your cheeks too.”

A little disappointed, he opened his eyes and noticed that the other man had already turned and now approached Jaskier just to do the same thing to the bard that he did to him.

Y/N's bare hands touched his friend's throat, and neck and Geralt suddenly had a very, very dark thought.

Abruptly he turned around and covered his lower face with his hand.

Did I... About this man...?

He could feel how heat crept up his neck, and he questioned the emotionlessness that every witcher was supposed to have.

What the fuck was he thinking? He has Yennefer!

Or at least had. Their relationship was somewhat in the stars at the moment. After their rather big fight last time...

Geralt didn't know why that mattered though.

He buried the fluttery feeling that had sprouted in his chest when the other man had touched him.

What he didn't realize, Y/N's heartbeat was pounding faster after the physical contact they had just shared.

After they had covered their scent with deer blood, they also smeared some dirt on their armor and clothes, much to the dismay of Jaskier. Then they decided to set up their stakeout one hundred meters away from the carcasses.

It was close enough to quickly attack, but also far away enough for them to be safe in case the dragon wanted to grill them. They sat on the mossy ground and leaned on the trees surrounding them.

"Now, all we have to do is wait."

Patience was something every hunter was supposed to have, and both Geralt and Y/N obviously had it. The bard, on the other hand...

The witcher's left eyebrow twitched in annoyance. After his friend had whistled, he began to eye the two men. Jaskier's stare felt like a cockroach was crawling over his body. He had a bad premonition about the weird behavior of the brown-haired man. He glared at him, but he just grinned.

Stop staring!

Geralt turned his head away and noticed how the warrior from Keizaal seemed to concentrate on something around his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fist with an absent expression.

He watched for a while and then realized that Y/N was holding a ring that he wore on a necklace.

A sinking feeling appeared in his gut, and he suddenly felt like a mountain weighed his shoulders down.

"You have a wife?"

His mouth was faster than his thoughts.

The man startled and then shared eye contact with him.

"Something like that..."

Geralt frowned a little. What kind of answer was that? He stared at Y/N with a hard look, but the other added nothing else, just sighed and hid the ring under his heavy armor.

The witcher only grunted and turned to face the direction of their trap.

Shit, why was he so annoyed?

The idea of the warrior having a doting wife waiting for him in Keizaal made his heart clench, and his chest felt tight.

This time he couldn't blame the bruises on his rips.

He finally acknowledged that the h/c haired man intrigued him and caused some rather odd feelings to rise.

But this... Why... Why the fuck was he feeling jealous?

And it wasn't even that the man had a wife, no; he was jealous because some woman had Y/N.

That dragon must have indeed killed some of his brain cells.

His yellow eyes traveled back to the other man's figure. His broad shoulders were hidden under his armor, but Geralt had seen them.

Just after he had woken up, he had seen the man in regular clothes. Although he had worn a shirt, the witcher had been able to see how muscular Y/N was.

His body seemed to be covered with scars. Tiny cuts on his hands, big slashes on his collarbone, and even some nasty ones close to his throat. Geralt was sure there were many more, but he wasn't able to see them. They were proof of fierce fights and the experiences the man had had to go through.

Was it weird that they attracted him?

Like the hands in his dreams that had traveled over his, the Butcher of Blaviken wanted to trace Y/N's scars with his fingers. He wanted to feel how his body had healed him, wanted to know the story of every scratch and bruise, wanted to touch the energetic muscles bursting with strength.

A flame of desire began to burn in his body, and he lowered his head to hide the dark expression he wore on his face.

These thoughts needed to stop; they would only become problematic in the future.

Geralt scratched his neck and then examined the brown-red flakes under his fingernails.

He felt a stare on his body again, and he sighed.

God damn Jaskier...

When he lifted his head, he was surprised to see that it wasn't the bard who looked at him but the warrior from Keizaal. Y/N's e/c eyes were unfathomable, but he showed a somber expression. He paused for a second, and the world seemed to turn slower.

The witcher could see every blemish on the other man's skin, every mole, every freckle. Geralt breathed in slowly, and the warrior's hair swayed in the wind.

He's so handso... The wind?

Geralt abruptly stood up.

"The-the wind turned!" he muttered and gulped. His cheeks felt hot, and he bit his lip. Jaskier frowned.

"Doesn't this mean that our smell would be...?"

Y/N sighed and nodded.

"Is a lake close by?"

The bard shook his head.

"But, we're only a few miles away from the sea."

The witcher watched the other man closely while he questioned the other's exhausted expression.

"The wind has turned due to the late afternoon. We should move."

Geralt and Jaskier only watched when the other stood up and grabbed his bow.

"Why not wait until the wind turns again?" asked the bard, and he followed after the h/c haired man.

"That won't be the case until tomorrow. The sea has saved the warmth from the sun while the land cooled down. We have to wait until the land is warmer again."

Jaskier eyed Y/N carefully. Geralt could already guess what he was thinking. He understood what the warrior from Keizaal meant. He learned about it when he was training to become a witcher.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

They both contemplated for a while and then Geralt spoke:

"Maybe we should indeed wait for tomorrow. I think it would be best if you tell us some more things about your dragon before we storm into this unprepared."

He tried to suppress a triumphant smile when the other two agreed. Of course, he wouldn't admit that he actually just wanted to spend some more time with Y/N.

He had a thought that they wouldn't meet again after this whole thing was over.

"Then what do we do about the deer corpses?" asked Jaskier, and it was a reasonable question. If they left them, they could attract other animals...

Both the witcher and the warrior looked at each other and then huffed. The bard just stared between them, and his face gradually darkened.

"You're not... thinking about eating them are-are you?"

Two hours later, they had put up a camp close to a clear pond and already roasted some rabbit meat.

They had buried the does, and although the physical labor was annoying, Jaskier was relieved that the two brutes didn't decide to eat them. The dead animals had been lying in the sun for a long time after all.

Y/N was peeling his armor off and thinking about the situation he was in right now.

The fact that they were on the hunt for a dragon excited him. Not the actual part of the chase but the fact that he would meet another specimen of his current best friends.

After he had killed Alduin, he had lost himself in a killing spree. Paarthurnax had warned him to get a hold of himself, but he wasn’t able to. His dragon soul caused him to lose all rational thoughts.

When he finally realized that he could learn so much more about Akatosh and the dovahs, he had already committed mass slaughter, and Odahviing and the wise dragon from The Throat of the World were the last ones of their species.

Or that's at least what the three of them had thought. But they were wrong, and now he had the chance to meet another dragon! And probably also the chance to go home. If he wanted to.

But first, they had to get a hold of him.

"Jaskier?"

He faced the bard who currently played on his lute while also watching the fire. He hummed in response and looked up.

"We should wash off the blood in the pond. Do you want to go first?"

The man seemingly wanted to say yes but then shook his head and responded with a slight grin:

"No, you can go first. I'll watch the rabbit."

Y/N furrowed his brows but then smiled and thanked him. He left the pile of his armor and Jaskier behind and wandered to the pond, which was located behind some trees and big boulders.

The view from the camp was obscured, which meant he had some privacy. Not that he cared much, but he would rather not show his back to the two other men. Since it showed one more change he had gone through in the last year.

Although Geralt wasn't currently in the camp anyway, he left to get some more branches for the fire.

The man carefully opened his shirt and took it off. His boots, pants, and underwear soon followed suit, and he stepped to the shore where some reed grew.

The water was cold when he stepped in, but he endured it. His muscles just tensed a little.

Y/N walked in further until the water reached his abdomen. He wasn’t even halfway in the pond, it was fairly big.

He sucked in some air when he lowered himself into the water until it reached his chin. He had to rub his skin a little, but then the water around him turned slightly red.

The man watched how the deer blood twirled, and he stared at his reflection. The red blood on his cheeks conjured a cursed memory in his head, and he heaved.

Hii los dur, Dovahkiin. Hi aal krii zu'u nu nuz zu'u ahrk pah dii Zeymah fen koraav hi mah wah hin daan. You are cursed, Dragonborn. You may kill me now, but all my brethren and I will see how you fall to your doom.

The ominous words of the last dovah he had killed echoed in his mind. He hugged himself, and his fingers touched his shoulder blades.

The skin was still shedding. Y/N sighed. What was going on with his body? The shedding had started a few months ago but he had no idea why.

And since it only started after he had arrived here he couldn’t ask Odahviing or Paarthurnax.

He breathed out slowly and then dived underwater.

The coldness cleared his head a little, and he relaxed slightly. His feet left the muddy ground, and for a moment, he floated.

If I could just stay like this...

His hand clenched to a fist, and he released some Magicka. The small pressure on his nose disappeared, and he automatically breathed in.

Air filled his lungs, and the Dragonborn smiled. Peace washed over him, and he spread his arms.

He slowly floated to the surface, and his face broke through it. Water droplets pearled from his cheeks and eyelashes, and he stared into the sky. The tree crowns whistled, and he watched how some clouds traveled across the darkening sky. The sun was already setting.

This was the ending of the first day together with the bard and the witcher. Geralt's face came to his mind, and he bit his lip.

The white-haired man reminded him of Farkas, but he was also completely different. His attitude for example. Farkas was openly benevolent and also voiced his concerns. The witcher seemed to be reluctant. Although Y/N was able to feel that he cared deeply for his friend.

They shared the same keen instincts, but Geralt's came from the harsh trials witchers had to go through while his love had them because he had been a werewolf.

I can't believe that you chose Farkas over Vilkas. Do you like strength more than brains?

Aela's voice sounded in his head, and Y/N huffed.

The huntress had probably been right. He was attracted to the Butcher of Blaviken. These yellow eyes... They had something animalistic and penetrating that stirred an urge deep inside of him.

He sighed and put his hands on his face. Then he scrubbed and splashed his face with water.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a person standing behind a tree at the other side of the pond after he had wiped droplets from his eyes and opened them again.

Y/N breath stopped, and a wail got caught in his throat. He abruptly stood up again, although it felt like he had still no ground under his feet. What...?

Light blue eyes framed by black war paint stared at him with a resentful look.

"Fa-Far..."

His voice failed, but he agitatedly began to move across the pond, trying to reach his lost lover and husband.

Breath erratic and tears were pricking in the corners of his eyes, but at that moment, he only felt happiness and relief. Farkas was alive!

"D-Dii Shul!" My Sunshine!

The ground suddenly declined, he lost his footing and dived involuntarily underwater.

Nevertheless, he was still able to hear the words that had left the lips he had kissed so often.

"So, you've abandoned me."

An ice-cold feeling washed over him, and his heart broke.

No, that's not true! I would never! You were gone! You left me! You died!

A disturbing scream erupted from his throat, and the skin around his mouth tore. The scream turned into a roar, and he clawed at his face. The e/c eyes shook, and the black pupils turned to slits.

Shreds of flesh got caught by growing claws, and gigantic fangs emerged from the man's jaws.

H/C hair parted, shrunk, and gave way for two enormous horns. His whole body shook, and his limbs twisted and cracked. His spine grew longer, broke through his lower back, and two bony wings arose from his back.

The murky water of the pond turned red and swirled around the tremoring creature who rapidly grew until it was able to stand on the pond bed. Flesh turned hard and into black scales. New tissue engulfed its wings and tail and also got covered by rockhard scales.

Burning heat crawled up its throat, and furious flames burst from its maw. It broke through the pond's surface, and the splashed water evaporated immediately.

The dragon spread its wings, and they created waterfalls when they left the water. The wingspan was as big as half of the pond, and when it pulled them closer to its body ready for takeoff, the leaves and needles of the surrounding trees shook.

A thunderous boom announced the beast's presence, and it tensed its huge muscles.

When it thrust off the pond bed, the water turned into waves and flooded over the shore and soaked shoes and clothes. Branches broke like grass when the dragon's wings grazed them, and trees lost all their leaves from the harsh wind which got created.

A scent caught the dragon’s attention and it whipped its head around. A triumphant roar shook the earth when it dashed towards the direction the smell came from.

The beast ignored the scared brown-haired human that stared at it from a small campsite.

Geralt was grabbing some more branches when he saw some Celandine, and he swiftly decided to take them with him. They were always helpful, after all.

Putting the branches on the ground, he knelt and carefully tore the flowers and the not yet bloomed buds from their stems.

While he stored them, his thoughts trailed off to the mysterious man who accompanied him and Jaskier.

Y/N had sparked something inside of him, and now he was questioning his heart, which confused him even more since the person he found interesting was a man.

On the other hand, he couldn't quite tell if the feeling in his chest was something along the lines of romantic attraction or just common interest.

Deep down in Geralt's heart, he knew that him eyeing the other man's ass was definitely not something one would call a platonic interest, but he just couldn't admit that he, who never thought about other men like that, suddenly liked one.

He didn't feel disgusted, but the thought alarmed him.

He had seen a lot of things during his time as a witcher, and relationships between two men were never something that ended well. Various churches took care of that.

An image in his head made his fists clench unconsciously.

And there was still Yennefer. They never openly ended their relationship so... Was he still involved with her? He couldn't tell.

The Butcher of Blaviken sighed and then noticed a pebble in the moss. It had white streaks over its grey shape, and they reminded him of the scars in the foreigner's face.

Was he seriously associating weird things to Y/N now?

Maybe the other cursed him.

While he pondered some more about the other man, it took a while for him to notice that the forest had turned unnaturally silent.

Birds stopped singing as if they held their breaths in fear, and suddenly a roar disrupted the silence. It came from far away, but Geralt was able to hear it loud and clear because of his mutated hearing.

He abruptly stood up and turned towards the direction. It came from the camp, and Geralt's heart sank.

Please no.

He disregarded the branches he had meticulously collected and started to rush back the way he came from. Thankfully he had taken his swords with him, and he unsheathed the silver one.

The image of the bard and the foreigner being killed carried his feet forward and pushed him to almost inhumane speed.

He wasn't even halfway back when a shadow cast on the moss stopped him in his tracks. A gigantic black dragon soared through the sky, and his wings caused the surrounding trees to shake. Geralt could feel the wind pressure, and the aura that the beast released caused a shiver to run down his spine.

The witcher grinned darkly. That bastard had an impressive bloodthirst. Geralt's hunter instincts wanted to fight that monster, but his heart worried for his best friend and his potential love interest.

He cursed himself for not taking his small bag with the various vials with potions and bombs, but he had no time to get annoyed because the dragon suddenly dived down, and he had to roll out of the way or else he would have been crushed.

When he stood up again and turned, he came face to face with the beast's massive head, and his heart skipped a beat.

Y/N fought against such big monsters? Repeatedly?

His respect for the other man increased significantly.

Geralt couldn't avoid his legs to tense, but the dragon didn't attack. Instead, its e/c eyes examined him, and the witcher wondered if the monster's pupils acted like a human's because they widened considerably.

This is a dovah...

The beast was at least as big as a typical villager house, and Geralt was sure that the spikes on its body would cause massive damage to any attacker. The black scales seemed impenetrable, and the monster slayer seriously questioned his chances of survival.

He had already felt it before when he had run from the dragon. It wasn't an enemy who he could overpower. If he had to fight, it would be either an overpriced victory or death. But escaping wasn't an option anymore, the dragon's tail had trapped him before the beast.

His grip around his sword tightened, and he was ready to use Quen on himself when the beast shifted and held its head up high. A growl escaped from its throat, and Geralt tensed even more. Unexpectedly, the dragon spoke:

"Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok."

The witcher obviously didn't understand, but the voice of the dragon shook him to the core. It was as if someone was screaming in his ear, and he had to press his hands on them. For that, he carelessly let go of his sword, but he felt like his eardrums would explode at any time.

His chest tingled, and the echo of the dragon's word resounded through his whole body. Geralt's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees.

The beast lowered its head until its throat almost touched the ground, and then it snorted.

Hot air blew his hair back, and the Butcher of Blaviken came to his senses again. He needed to get his sword back! Right when he stretched out his hand to take his silver sword, the dragon crept forward until its snout was dangerously close.

Geralt froze. If the monster decided to eat him now, he would have no time to react. This was the end.

The realization hit him, and regret washed over him like a seastorm. There were many things in his life that he hadn't resolved yet—many things he wanted to achieve and also many things he wanted to try.

E/c eyes showed up in his mind, and his heart burned. If the dragon ate him now, would they meet in death?

His eyes flickered to the dragon, and that's when he realized something.

Although he had no time to elaborate the thought because the dragon moved its head forward until there was merely the distance of a hand between him and the beast.

He breathed out slowly, and his witcher heart beat faster. He wanted to face his enemy to the last second, but after so many fights, he thought that closing his eyes and embracing death that way seemed more peaceful and freeing. So he closed them and took one last breath.

I'm sorry, Ciri.

Seconds passed, where he only heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Until wind brushed his hair in his face, and he heard a sniff. A rumble shook the earth, and he slowly opened his eyes again.

The dragon breathed in and sniffed, its eyes closed, and Geralt couldn't believe it when the beast closed the distance, and the scaly snout touched his chest. Black shiny scales only a few centimeters from his face.

He searched the dragon's eyes, but they were closed. The rumble sounded again, and if he didn't know any better, the witcher would have guessed that the monster was humming.

When it opened its eyes again, and yellow and e/c met, Geralt had an unbelievable thought, and he whispered:

"Y-Y/N?"

The look in the dragon's eyes changed, and it pulled its head back abruptly.

A growl erupted from the beast's throat, and it only took a matter of seconds for it to tense its muscles and take off the ground.

Geralt was left in a daze, panic, and realization the only thing he believed to have seen in the dragon's expression.

Leaves fluttered to the ground, and the deep claw marks in the dirt before him were the only proof for the monster's presence.

What... What just happened?

The dragon had touched him. He slowly lifted his hand and put it on his chest. It's warm. The dovah had an unexpectedly high body temperature.

Why did it...? Y/N... Was it really him? H-How...

He remembered something the foreigner had told them.

His dragon soul was too much for his human body, and he slowly turned into a dovah.

"The dovahkiin..."

Geralt lifted himself off the ground and took off running to the direction the dragon left for.

The dragon didn't make it far.

Geralt saw him soaring through the sky and circling above a clearing in the forest. The witcher could see a small hut standing at the clearing border, and he remembered another thing that Y/N had told him and Jaskier.

I've been staying here in the forest for a few weeks in a hut half a mile from here.

Geralt slowly realized that his intuition was probably correct.

When he arrived at the clearing, the black dragon had already landed.

Although it was more like a crash. Long furrows plowed the forest ground. But the Butcher of Blaviken couldn't see the dragon lying there because a strange fog obstructed his view. He was hesitant about approaching the steam, but he really wanted to know if his theory was correct. A voice interrupted his twisting thoughts:

"Bormah, Bormah... Aak dovah!"

It was deep and raspy, and he didn't understand what it said, but Geralt could recognize it instantly. It was him.

Y/N was the dragon.

His whole body hurt.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Blue eyes watched him with a worried expression. He didn't reply. What was there to say? The dovah needed to die. He was the only one capable of killing them.

Why couldn't he understand?

"Think about it, Y/N. You're one of them, so you shouldn-"

"Don't you dare compare me to them! I AM THE DRAGONBORN! Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin!"

He knew he went too far as soon as he saw the other's expression.

Farkas stared at him with slightly widened eyes.

"Control yourself, Dovahkiin. Or else disaster will fall upon you and the ones you love."

Arngeir stepped forward and put a shoulder on his lover's shoulder. He could feel how his pupils flickered. Anger welled in his stomach.

"Don't touch him..."

His voice was low and threatening. Farkas scoffed, but his face only showed hurt.

"Don't worry about me, Dragonborn."

The distance in his words was like a thorn in his heart. The idea that Farkas couldn't understand his thoughts tore his heart in two. Y/N only watched when his significant other walked out of the room, Arngeir following him.

"Wa-Wait, Farkas, no!"

He reached out his hand to stop him, but the other man was already so far away.

"Akatosh, Akatosh, help me!"

Tears welled up in his eyes, and a wail escaped his lips.

Arngeir was right. Disaster fell upon him.

The skin shedding on his back, his pupils turning to slits, the increased usage of Dovahzul, all were signs for his slow transformation.

He couldn't believe that the stories Odahviing had told him jokingly were real. His dragon soul was changing his body and personality.

And now it had happened. He turned into a dragon.

How many times had he already done that? The witcher mentioned that the monster they were hunting tormented the villagers.

What had he done?!

The pain he felt after transforming was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Y/N became the monster he had thought he was slaying when he had eradicated all the dragons from Skyrim.

The scars he had received from all the dovah burned, and shame clung to his heart.

Why didn't he listen to Arngeir?

The greybeard was wise and only wanted his best after the dragonborn distanced himself from the Blades. His loved one died because he didn't listen!

And now he... He turned into an inhumane beast.

Suddenly he remembered the bard. Did he attack him?! A sinking feeling struck his gut.

Please, no, no, NO!

What about Geralt?

Oh Talos... I have to return to the camp!

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were heavy. He groaned.

What if the two others were bleeding out while he laid here? If the witcher died... Y/N was sure he could never forgive himself.

Farkas's death was something that he could slowly overcome, although it took him years, and he still hadn't let him go but... If the witcher's death joined, he was sure his shoulders would give in under all the regret.

Just imagining how these beautiful yellow eyes lost their light, he couldn't take it.

He didn't realize it immediately, but his heart was already in the hands of Geralt. He had already lost.

Y/N finally regained some strength, and he used it to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could see that the sky had already turned dark blue.

He knew what lurked in the forest at night.

The thought reminded him again of the witcher. What an irony that it took the white-haired man less than a day to sweep him off his feet. It was the complete opposite with Farkas. Maybe they weren't that similar at all.

He turned on his side and soon realized that his back felt different. The cold wind gave his arms goosebumps, but his back felt perfectly warm. He lifted his arm and cricked it to reach his shoulderblade. When his fingers grazed his back, he sucked in some air.

That definitely wasn't flesh. That smooth texture... Y/N would recognize it everywhere. He had felt it so many times after all.

His back was full of scales.

Panic and adrenaline gave him strength, and he sat up, ignoring the pain that bolted through his torso. Only now did he realize that he was completely naked.

That shocked him less than the fact that only a few meters away stood the Butcher of Blaviken with wide eyes, his sword in his hand ready to attack.

"Y-You..." Geralt didn’t continue.

Y/N opened his mouth but didn't say anything as soon as he saw how the other man flinched.

His heart pounded loud in his ears, and he felt light-headed. He breathed in, it sounded strained.

A smile crept on his lips, and he grinned exhausted.

"Thank Talos, you're alive..."

The witcher didn't know what to respond.

He was frozen although he couldn't tell if it was because the person before him was a fire-spitting dragon or because the man was butt naked. Something that usually wouldn't impress him but after realizing that Y/N attracted him... He was conflicted.

"You... you turned into a dragon," he finally said with a neutral tone.

The man sitting in the crater nodded slowly. He looked as lost as Geralt felt.

Did he not know?

"Are you... Are you the dovahkiin?"

Y/N nodded again, and he lowered his head.

The witcher could see the shame on his face. After receiving this information, he didn't know what to do with it. It should probably agitate him, all the villagers that had their cattle stolen and all the lost prey on hunts, but Geralt felt nothing. The shock was perhaps too deep.

One is a sorceress, one a dragon. It seems like I fall in love with extraordinary people. Wait...

His eyes found the e/c ones. Did he really...? Y/n watched him with a conflicted expression.

"Do you want to kill me?"

The question surprised him; he hadn't thought about it. But he opposed it.

"Should I?"

His voice had a challenging undertone, but it sounded light, and his heart fluttered a little when the other man smiled weakly.

Geralt lowered his sword. Y/N didn't feel like a threat; in fact, he looked defeated.

The h/c haired man leaned back and exposed his torso. The witcher was right. Even his chest was full of scars, and most of them looked like claw marks.

A strong warrior.

"I caused you a lot of trouble. If I have to pay for it, I'll gladly do it with my life. It's not worth much anymore."

These words caused him to frown. The man sounded like he had already given up. Where was his will to fight?

The imposing aura Geralt had felt when he stood tall as a dragon was gone without a trace. This man was broken. He couldn't imagine what Y/N had gone through, but he wouldn't let a warrior like him die a fool's death.

"It's true. You caused me a lot of trouble..."

The Dragonborn watched him with an apologetic expression. Geralt eyed him from head to toe, his stare burning.

"But instead of paying with your life, why not pay me with something else?"

Y/N blinked and stared blankly, then he blushed furiously. The witcher’s heart skipped a beat.

Did Y/N also...?

It excited Geralt that he apparently knew what he was hinting at and reacted this strongly. It meant he had a chance. Then he remembered the ring. Geralt examined the naked man and realized the necklace was gone.

"Your ring..."

Y/N touched his throat. Nothing was there. Geralt expected his face to turn panicked, but only a melancholic expression showed up.

"It's fine. It's time to move on."

The witcher didn't pry further, but he knew he didn't have to. The smile on Y/N's lips said enough.

"So, how am I supposed to repay you?"

The man lifted an eyebrow and grinned. He gulped, he didn't expect the man to be this willing. Suddenly he felt bad about his desires.

"Toss me a coin."

The warrior from Keizaal tilted his head and puckered his lips. Then he smiled, and his e/c eyes turned into crescents. They looked happy. But most importantly, human.

Warmth spread in his chest.

He had a thought that his future would be a lot more interesting with the dovahkiin by his side and Jaskier.

Wait...

Both of them opened their mouth and shouted:

“Jaskier!”

_______

Endnote: Congrats! You made it! Like I said at the beginning, this fic is based on a headcanon of mine. Where the dragonborn slowly turns into a dragon because of his dragon soul. The dovahkiin is able to live a lot longer than any other human due to his dragon nature and it’s taking a toll on him. The scales are something I had imagined from the start. This is a drawing of my dragonborn which I used as inspiration for this fic:

I wanted the story to end in a rather light tone which some might not find appropriate but I honestly got a little exhausted. I wrote this as a oneshot of 12k words, which was definitely too much xD Writing so much is new to me. But I’m proud that I made it this far :)

I wanted Yennefer to play a part here but more like the one of a former lover. She was also a tool to give Geralt a reason why he likes Y/N since he’s officially straight in canon.

I already decided to create a fic where Geralt gets taken to Skyrim but I haven’t decided if it’s going to be a sequel to this yet. We’ll see I guess.

Some sentences that were spoken in Dovahzul were purposely not translated because it was either from Geralt’s sight or it was to show that the dragonborn was slowly changing. But they meant the following:

Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok = My soul sings for you. Who are you? You are not him (as in Farkas).

Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin = My Sword slays dragons not help them

Thank you for reading and being patient with me :D

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just-a-simple-otaku · 4 years

Text

Alina Gray analysis

Well then, Alina Gray sure is a piece of work. The problematic fav of the MagiReco fandom, fondly referred to as psycho artist or JoJo reference. But Alina is more than a reference and more than just a psycho. In fact, is she even a psycho? In that case, psycho meaning either psychotic or psychopath (or I guess here psycho as in crazy murderous bitch). So let’s have a meaningful analysis of this character and undercover what might be a tragic tale of objectification.

We are introduced to Alina in the game in chapter 5 and in the anime in episode 9. In both media she arrives to stop the protagonists from destroying Ai, an uwasa. In the game, Madoka and Homura (Moemura) were there but not in the anime version. In the game, in her first appearance Alina appeared at first as serious, cold and irritable, before she revealed her mad and sadistic antics. In the anime, she showed up laughing maniacally, acting all eccentric and borderline insane, even strangling herself. It seems that the anime went overboard with the Alina acting crazy part. Not that I disliked it, but given that the game is the original source, I’ll keep this analysis mainly game-only.

We should start by the beginning, which is Alina’s backstory as shown in her magical girl story. It’s implied that Alina’s fascination with life and death in her art started when her grandparents and dog died when she was a child. Given that this event was what drove Alina’s art, I’d say their death must have left a pretty big impact on her (especially since she was 8 years old and might not have been fully able to grasp the concept of death). Alina mentioned how her parents often got mad at her for spending too much time painting, which led her to make her wish to have a space when she can be alone and nobody can disturb her there. Alina was treated as an artist genius from a young age and gathered a lot of attention and big expectations and ended up having no privacy and being used for her talents by people around her, including her parents and teachers. Alina wasn’t valued as a person but only for her art and adults didn’t respect her privacy or free-will as they often shared personal information about her to the public or submit her arts without her authorization.

Despite being a famous artist, Alina shows no interest in popularity, admiration or love from people and simply wants to create more art. She doesn’t seem to enjoy attention or even the company of others and prefer to be left alone. No ones seem interested in how she feels, only in her art and how they can use it for their own benefit (like her teacher who submitted her art against her will and tried to force her to participate in other contests for the sake of the school’s reputation), and when she refuses she’s been called selfish. The only person who genuinely cares for Alina as a person is her kouhai Karin, but I’ll get back to their relationship later.

Her magical girl story shows Alina as someone pretty antisocial with mood swings and impulsivity issues where she can snap and result in material destruction. She seems relatively unhappy with her life and on the verge of depression. The breaking point was when she refused an award for a contest she didn’t agree to participate in in the first place, she received a letter from one of the judges: “It seems you are capable of creating a work that is so beautiful and arcane that viewers will think about it until their deaths. However, your work, which has no external theme, is a powerful drug that might drive people insane. That's why I want to tell you this. If you don't want to change the world, stop creating. You are only fifteen years old; if you haven't realized this, your brilliance will probably run out.”

I just want to mention first that the English translation doesn’t mention she’s 15 years old at that time (she’s 16 in the main story). At first, this letter may seem insignificant and harmless, until you realize how fucked up it is for an adult to say that to a teen. This judge said that Alina’s art is hollow and hurt people and that if she doesn’t intend to change the world with it, she should stop creating, and that her light will burn out. It basically implied that Alina creating art for herself is wrong and harmful and that if she isn’t creating for others, then her art is just worthless and so is her life. Again, implying Alina is a selfish person who is basically useless because she doesn’t want to meet people’s expectations and shaming her for that. Can we talk about how inappropriate, irresponsible and cruel it is for an adult to say that to a child? To crush their passion and treat its worth only by how others appreciate it? And the fact Alina was already feeling depressive before sure didn’t help.

Some people might think Alina is selfish, but let me tell you this: Alina doesn’t owe the world anything. Her art is hers and only hers, yet people kept trying to appropriate her art for their own goal, with no concern for how Alina felt, her desires, and basically treated her as a tool and used her. Now remembers, Alina started to show interest in art at 8 and in her magical story she was 15, meaning she went through 7 years of being used, guilt-tripped, having her privacy violated and having no free-will over her own creations. No wonder why she’s tired of people and just wants to be left alone, and is overall hostile to others.

After she received this letter, Alina became full of doubt and questioned the meaning of her art and life as well as her own worth, and came to the conclusion that just like her art, she’s worthless and is basically a poison and toxic to everyone. After leaving on a vacation to find some inspiration and a meaning to her art, in vain, Alina then decided that she would be better off ending all her art, as well as herself. She went on a rampage to destroy all her art before planning to commit suicide by jumping from a rooftop. She wanted her death to be her final work, concluding her art of life and death, so people can witness her last moment before her light fade away (she put a camera to record her suicide). A last desperate attempt to give some meaning to her life through death.

Kyubey did try to convince her to make a wish, twice, and the second time, Alina agreed, and wished for a space where she cannot be bothered by others. But she had no intent to play her role as a magical girl, she just wanted to add her wish in her life so it can be lost as well in her death.

Of course, as a magical girl, Alina survived the fall and encountered a witch, and, amazed by its beauty, found what the theme of her art was, what she wanted to convert to the world: Alina’s Beauty. She found a reason to live through that and a meaning to her art. She wants people to witness what she considers to be beautiful. And this is how she started to breed witches together and create even more powerful witches (again, let’s talk about that later). Interesting thing, Alina’s doppel is highly based on virus and poison that can drive people insane, which is a clear reference to her thinking her art is poison that drive people insane because of the judge.

So, what I got from her backstory is a subtle tragedy. Alina was basically objectified in a way since she’s a child, used for her talent and treated as a mere tool. Almost no one has any consideration for her feelings, desires and privacy and is, yeah, treated more like an object than a human, and put an insane amount of pressure by all the expectation and guilt-tripping people kept putting on her shoulders. Alina ended up with a disturbed sense of her own identity and what was the purpose of her life, splitting tendencies (incapacity how seeing both positive and negative, lack of nuance), impulsivity and recklessness, unstable and chaotic relationships, self-damaging behaviors, detachment from reality, as well as depression, anger and rage.

I might have sounded really precise here, right? Well, those descriptors I used for Alina are almost all the criteria for a specific disorder: Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD).

Yep, I’m basically saying that I think Alina might suffer from BPD. At first I thought she might be bipolar because of her mood swing between depression and almost manic behaviors, but bipolarity is mainly genetic and the mood switch is usually not that fast, unlike BPD. BPD is also a personality disorder, it’s not genetic and is caused by the environment, which makes more sense for Alina.

People with BPD also tend to be extremely sensitive to any form of criticism and alternating between idealization and devalorization and emotionally unstable and erratic. That sounds pretty much like what happened to Alina in her magical girl story if you think about it. BPD can also lead to psychotic episodes in more serious cases.

Now, I wouldn’t say that Alina perfectly fit the diagnosis or that it was the creator’s intention, but I feel like she’s a pretty good example of someone who suffers from untreated BPD and to me, it helps me understand the character on a more psychological basis and empathize with her.

There’s also more input on Alina’s psyche in the Holy Alina magical girl story. Again, after one critic that might look trivial from Karin (implying that Alina’s work isn’t art but breeding), Alina became overwhelmed with doubt regarding her art and extremely moody. Having her art compared to breeding and raising a pet deeply upset Alina, who’s forced to admit it’s true. She is indeed breeding witches, and she came to doubt that it’s real art.

Alina feels conflicted feelings. She’s mad that her art may not be art, but at the same time, feels excited at the idea of breeding witches, which only frustrated her even more. Surprisigly, it’s Karin who managed to make her feel better by making her read her favorite manga, bing worried that Alina might attempt suicide again. Alina understood through the manga that even if the plot is redundant, there’s a recurring theme that draws people to it. As a thanks, Alina bought a strawberry milk to Karin (while she usually stole it from her whenever she’s disappointed by her). Alina knows her art is more than just breeding and that she just need to find the core of her theme beyond life and death.

Alina decides to seek advice from her fellow Magius, Touka and Nemu. Nemu did notice how irritable Alina was these days. They make Alina realize that people tend to share a collective unconsciousness, like different civilizations worshipping the sun even though they had no contact with one another. So Alina needs to find something all humanity shares collectively, something she also shares with them. Touka suggested destruction: a death drive, a self-destructive urge. So the core of Alina’s art would be a craving towards death. After reading more about it, Alina became obsessed with the idea of self-destruction and, unable to fully grasp it, threw a tantrum and destroyed her atelier and aggressively asked Touka and Nemu for more explanation. Both explain how humans is one of the only species who kill one another even if it’s unnecessary, especially through wars. Mifuyu then arrives and complained that by destroying stuff, Alina is damaging the environment. This comment brought Touka and Nemu to find the perfect example of humans’ self-destruction: them destroying the environment. Not only are humans killing one another, they are also destroying their own planet.

Alina concluded that humans unconsciously crave death and destruction, leading them to their own destruction. She thinks this is why everyone is so fascinated by her art, because humans do seek their own death. Alina decides that she’ll indeed change the world with her art and that the core of her theme is “changing the world for the good of humanity”. Even if it sounds good, there’s something sinister behind this. For her, the “good of humanity” is granting what she thinks humans want: Their own destruction.

This is how she decided to become Holy Alina by wearing an Uwasa supposed to grant people their desires. And this is how Alina came to the conclusion she has to cause destruction, for the “sake” of humanity.

We might think that Alina’s actions actually came from a misguided good intention, but let’s not forget Alina is far from being a good person. She enjoys making people suffer and causing misery all around her, she doesn’t show any empathy for others and is remorseless. She’s sadistic, cruel and callous. And that lead to another diagnosis:

Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD).

In case you don’t know, ASPD is often referred to as sociopathy or psychopathy, even if both are technically incorrect, but let’s not dwell on that. Alina does exhibit a lot of antisocial behaviors, even before she became a magical girl, such as: Failure to obey laws and norms by engaging in behavior which results in criminal arrest, or would warrant criminal arrest, impulsive behaviors, irritability and aggression, disregard for her own safety and irresponsibility. She laters shows a blatant lack of remorse for her actions and a lack of empathy. The only traits she doesn’t seem to have is lying, deceiving and manipulating for her own profit or amusement. Alina is someone who is brutally honest and has no issue with speaking her mind and herself said that she doesn’t lie. I don’t recall any incident where Alina lies, but she can be deceiving and manipulative, like when she purposefully misled Madoka and Homura about Mami’s fate to hurt them, making it look like Mami met a gruesome death simply to make them suffer. But, ASPD can only be diagnosed when you’re 18 and alas, Alina is 16. But, there exists a precursor to ASPD for kids and teens, which is required to be diagnosed with ASPD: Conduct Disorder.

Alina almost fit the textbook criteria of conduct disorder. She’s a bully, aggressive, cruel towards others (and potentially animals), vandalism, deceptiveness and serious rules violation. And most of those were even before she became a magical girl. She often mistreats Karin and shows no respect for authority, she’s cruel towards others and I feel like it’s implied that Alina might have killed animals (and there’s also her reaction to Kyubey, who she thought was an animal and ended up kicking) and causes a lot of vandalism. Those were rather mild thoughts before she became a magical girl, where she’s downright dangerous and craving destruction.

BPD and ASPD both belong to the same cluster of personality disorder, cluster b, and are often comorbid. ASPD is often referred to as sociopathy, and given her borderline behaviors, Alina is pretty low-functioning. She’s impulsive, erratic and doesn’t bother to hide her true nature.

So, am I saying Alina is an irredeemable evil person who only seeks death and destruction? Yes, but no. There’s more to her. I won’t deny Alina’s cruelty and sadism and lack of concern for others well-being. After all, she doesn’t shy away from tormenting people, torture and attempted murder. But Alina isn’t born that way, she was driven to become a monster by the people around her. Alina wasn’t allowed to be a human, her feelings, desires and freedom were always disregarded, everything that makes someone human. Instead, she was treated like an object, an an object doesn’t have feelings and only serves a purpose. And the big tragedy in that is that Alina herself ended up objectifying herself. She decided to accomplish what she thinks humanity wants by causing destruction, but she’s also projecting her own self-destruction craving unto humanity as a whole. In the end, she tried to become the tool who will change the world for the good of humanity.

Being treated like an object made Alina unable to relate to others or understand their feelings, treating others just like she was treated: as objects. Alina seems to care for Mifuyu, but not as a person. Alina only values Mifuyu for her body, which she considers to be a work of art. Let’s not forget that magical girls’ true bodies are their soul gems and their human’s body is pretty much an empty shell, so Alina only caring for Mifuyu’s human body and not her as a person does show that she views Mifuyu as an object, not a person.

She also doesn’t understand humans’ bonds. When she proposed to spare their lives in exchange for Felicia (who she was angry at for destroying her witch), she didn’t understand why Tsuruno was so upset. Tsuruno even said “people aren’t objects!” which confused Alina even more. For Alina, everyone, including herself, are objects, and she herself can’t understand why others value people’s lives.

There’s also the way she’s treating witches. At first she seems to care about the witches she raised, considering like like pets and art and throwing a tantrum when Felicia destroyed one of them. But later in the story she shows no remorse to sacrifice the witches she raised, which shows that Alina doesn’t actually care for them, but given that they are hers, she can’t bear people other than her destroying them (or destroying them against her will). Alina did say that only an artist can destroy their own art. Given that she views the witches she raised and breed as her art, she doesn’t actually view them as actual pets but again, as objects. Alina’s objectification extend to witches too.

In one of the Christmas Events where she turned into Holy Alina, she ended up causing a lot of good actions while trying to do bad actions, which made people love her. But it didn’t please Alina at all. She doesn’t care about being loved or hated, she doesn’t care about what people think of her, good or bad actions. At some point, she noticed someone about to blow off a bomb and didn’t care nor show any interest in stopping him until she realized the bomb could damage Mifuyu’s body (again, she wasn’t worried for Mifuyu’s well-being, just her body). Alina seems to not feel shame for her behaviors, neither find it rewarding to be loved and praised.

Another thing regarding Mifuyu. At some point, the Magius (so Alina too) decided to sacrifice Mifuyu and feed her soul gem to Eve. I found it strange that Alina seemed to agree, until I realized something: A magical true body is their soul gem and they only need to feed that to Eve. There’s no need to feed Eve with their empty shell of an organic body. So I came to the conclusion that Alina didn’t mind sacrificing Mifuyu’s soul gem as long as she can keep her body. It just shows how much Alina doesn’t care about Mifuyu as a person and only valued her as a piece of art. An object. (And God knows what she would have done with her corpse).

Well, I’m not making a case about Alina not being an unredeemable piece of shit huh? Well, I decided to keep the best for the end: Her relationship with Karin.

It’s undeniable that Karin holds a special place in Alina’s heart (or whatever Alina has instead of a heart). Alina is cruel and mean towards Karin, true, but unlike other people, Alina never hurts Karin for her own pleasure or by sadism. Most of the time, she ended up mistreating Karin out of anger, mostly when she deemed that Karin made her lose her time or disappointed her, or when Karin is being dishonest with herself and doesn’t improve. Alina insults her and belittles her, as well as stealing her strawberry milk, not with the intention of hurting her, but as a form of punishment. Like a parent disciplining their child. But Alina does sincerely want Karin to improve and the fact that she takes the time to teach her, spend time with her and even rewards her proves that, in a way, Alina does care about Karin. In a really shitty and abusive way. But I don’t recall any instances where Alina physically harm Karin or show to enjoy hurting her. Still shitty and abusive, don’t get me wrong. But I feel like Alina is being abusive towards Karin because she’s unconsciously repeating how her parents may have treated her as a child. We know her parents often got angry at her and perhaps they acted in a way that is similar to how Alina treats Karin. The cycle of abuse sure is a tragic thing.

But why Karin? Well, I got a couple of theories. First, Karin is the only one who seems to care about Alina as a person and not an object. Karin greatly values Alina and is concerned about her feelings, something Alina isn’t used to, being only values for her talents. Karin often notices Alina’s change of mood and shows rejoice whenever Alina is in a good mood. She also worries greatly about Alina when she’s in a bad mood and even fear that she might try to commit suicide again. Karin is also someone who respects art and thrives to improve even if she seems to lack the talent. But she is still optimistic and never gives up, and she knows why she’s doing art. She wants to make people happy with her stories. Almost the opposite of Alina, who’s rather pessimistic, she oftens despaired regarding her art, she has the talent but lacks substance and doesn’t exactly know why she does art. Alina even admitted that Karin might be a bigger genius than her because of her passion, which Alina feels like she lacks, feeling empty inside. Even if Karin has expectations towards Alina, it doesn’t seem to put pressure on Alina, as Karin shows interest in how to make her own art and not Alina’s art itself. In a way, perhaps Alina can relate to Karin in a certain way, with her desire to make art, as well as being envious of how Karin can just be carefree about her art and be able to enjoy it without having people trying to use her. Perhaps this is why Alina is able to care about her, because in a way, she can relate to Karin. Still, Alina is abusive towards Karin and her intention doesn’t change how poorly she treats Karin.

Funny thing, Alina herself doesn’t seem to know exactly why she makes art, and ends up needing others' opinions to figure it out. She ended up deducing that her core theme is self-destruction because of Touka and Nemu, which seems to make sense with Alina’s fascination with life and death. People focus on the death aspect, but Karin thinks that Alina’s works are actually full of life. Perhaps Karin is the one who’s right, maybe Alina's actual core is more towards life, but given how twisted Alina became, she doesn’t even realize it herself. Maybe Karin is the only one who can see the good Alina might have deep down inside of her, or may even bring the good inside of her. Who knows, Karin might be the key for Alina potential redemption.

Also, it may not look like it, but I think Alina is constantly hurting inside, due to depression, but she’s so disconnected from her own feelings that she doesn’t realize it and unconsciously hurts others because she’s hurting. Alina is full of unhealthy coping. Her own fascination for life and death started by the death of her grandparents and dog when she was a kid, and might actually have traumatized her and her way to cope is her art. That would explain why Alina herself is uncertain about her theme, because often, understanding our own trauma can be quite hard, or even realize that we experience trauma in the first place. Perhaps death traumatized Alina and her art is her way to understand death better and accept it as a part of life itself. Maybe she actually wants to value life by understand death, because without death, life loses its core value.

So, did I answer the question? Is Alina a psycho crazy jojo villain? Yes, but no. Alina isn’t a psychopath and not downright psychotic either (even though she might experience psychotic episodes). Crazy? Well, I do think she suffers from personality disorders, but it doesn’t make her insane. A sociopath? Maaaybbeee. But to be honest, I mainly think Alina is someone broken who is the result of her environment, someone constantly hurting inside with deep self-destructive urges. The objectification made her feel disconnected from her feelings and humanity and turned her into a monster. But it doesn’t excuse her villainous actions, it only made them understandable and Alina more sympathetic.

Well that was longer than I expected. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!

#magia record #magireco #magia record game #alina gray #alina grey #analysis

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meetthetank · 3 years

Text

Cruciamen Chapter 10: Order of the Devoted

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Other Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), Emil (NieR: Automata), Kainé (NieR) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, genre typical violence, On the Run, Monster of the Week, 9S is a half demon, 2B and A2 are shapeshifter Dragons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut in the future, inaccurate depictions of medical procedures, Fantasy Biology, A2 is Nonbinary

The first thing A2 notices is how soft the surface they’re sleeping on is. It reminds them of times as a hatchling when they would nuzzle into their mother’s downy feathers, safe and sound while they slept. Something is draped over their body too, just as gentle. For the first time in a long, long time, they are content and unafraid for their safety.

The next thing they realize is that this is not where they lost consciousness, and all of the warmth in their body rushes away, replaced by icy gripping fear.

Their eyes fly open and they sit upright, ready to fight their captors to the death and escape their prison. They expect to see a pit of rotting mud and meat, or a dank cellar of stone. Instead, they find themself in a small cozy room, complete with a mirror and dresser opposite of their bed. A quick scan around the place reveals nothing out of the aggressively ordinary beyond a plate of fruits and other, strange foods that A2 has never seen before.

They don’t lower their guard yet. If their time in the Bog has taught them anything it’s that horrible things can be waiting in every shadow. The soft bed and heavy blankets might be comfortable, the room itself might be bathed in warm sunlight, the foods beside them might smell inviting, and they might not feel like they’re on death’s door anymore… but it could be a trap or an illusion or a horrible dream. Any second their surroundings could shift back to the prison pit, or they could be hallucinating, on the brink of death while some Bog animals gnaw at their limbs.

… They stare around the room for a few minutes. Nothing happens.

Somehow, waking up in a safe and comfortable room is the most unbelievable thing that’s happened to them, in their mind.

A2’s stomach roars, and suddenly they remember that they haven’t eaten in… gods, they don’t know how long. They look over at the plate of… things, on the small table. There’s a bunch of small purple fruits hanging from little vines in a pile, a block of pale yellow stuff, something that looks in between the color of flesh and the writing paper humans use to record things, a cup of warm water, and a couple of bottles of odd colored liquids. The pale colored food has the shape of an oblong rock, but sags when they press their finger to it. Its outer shell crackles enticingly, but they turn their attention to the plants instead. At least they know that the purple orbs are fruits. They pluck one off the vines and roll it between their fingers for a moment. It’s somewhat firm with a thin skin around it, broken where it was connected with what reveals a soft flesh inside that drips with juice. They cautiously sink their teeth into a small portion of one end which explodes in their mouth.

A2 decides they like these purple fruits, and gulps down the rest of them in seconds, followed by the soft yellow block and crunchy but also soft paper colored food. All of it tastes strange, but pleasant. It isn’t as good as fresh kill, but it quells the hunger that gnaws at their gut. The darker portion of their mind chastises them for eating things that could very well be poisoned, but A2 doesn’t care. They’re fed for the first time since going into the Bog.

The sink back into the bed, full of strange new foods and ready to fall back asleep. However just as they begin to get comfortable, their body begins to itch. They groan and drag their nails against the focal points, mainly their thighs and shoulders, to find them wrapped in tight bandages. They hold their arm up to inspect, finding only clean white wrappings and the stink of some sort of chemical. It smells a bit like fermented berries but less sweet. Carefully they pick at the bandages on their elbow, unwinding them bit by bit once they find the end stuck between two layers. As the final layers start to unravel, their arm begins to sting and feel like their skin itself is peeling off. Sure enough, they pull back the last layer to find raw, red skin. Skin, not scales. Portions of their scales stick to the bandages, flake off when the bandage is removed, or cling to their skin by the smallest thread of mucus.

A2 puts the bandages back on as tight as they can.

Suddenly the wooden door to the outside world flies open and in steps a woman with black robes with a mess of curly black hair tied back. She’s much shorter than them, most likely coming up to where their chest would be, and either well fed or muscular under her robes. Probably both, if they had to guess. A2 freezes in place as they watch her cross the room with a ceramic pitcher in her hands. The woman’s green eyes widen when they meet A2’s

“Oh good!” she says, her voice warm and kind. A2 recognizes it as the same voice they heard just before passing out in the Bog. “I didn’t expect you to be awake already.”

They don’t respond. The woman keeps watching them as if waiting for them to say something. A moment later she clears her throat and approaches A2’s bed. They can feel their hair--now much lighter than before--bristle even though this woman doesn’t appear to be a threat.

“... My name is A4. I’m a nun in the Order of Devoted. I’ll be taking care of you while you recover.”

Still A2 remains silent, their eyes never leaving A4.

“You must have some questions. I know it can be scary waking up in an unfamiliar place, but I assure you this is the safest place you can be in this region.”

The only form of movement A2 gives in response is blinking when necessary.

“... You’ve been unconscious for about two and a half days,” the nun begins as she pours the water into a smaller cup. “You were in a very poor state when we found you, but our holy magic has been sufficient in helping you regain your strength.”

She sets the cup on their bedside table. “Unfortunately you seem to have contracted an illness from spending so long in The Great Bog, and it’s not one spells can fix. Bog Rot is something that requires the old medicines. Regular herbal baths, cleaning of infection sites, various salves, and-”

“I don’t need your help,” A2 snaps, brows knit tightly together. They try to look as intimidating as they can, despite how pathetic they feel wrapped up in blankets and bandages.

A4 smirks. “Ah, so you can speak. For a moment I thought you couldn’t or didn’t understand my language. But I’m sorry, you need treatment-”

“I’m not a charity case,” they growl.

The nun’s eyebrows shoot up in shock, but then she puts her hands on her hips and scowls, though her emerald eyes still hold kindness. “I don’t think you understand how serious this disease is. You-”

“I. Don’t. Need. Help.” A2 leans forward and snarls, baring their pointed teeth at A4.

For a split second there’s fear on the nun’s face, a brief flash of pallor across her face. “Yes, you do. This is only the beginning stages of the Rot. Your skin will start to become necrotic. You won’t be able to walk, stand, or even clean yourself. One by one your organs will rot away and shut down. Within a month you will be clinging to life while your body rots from the inside out.”

They scowl, but A4’s little sermon does strike a cord in them. They cross their arms over their chest and stare holes in the floor. Somehow wasting away in a sickbed is a worse fate than starving to death in a mud pit. Unlike in the desert with Emil and Kaine they’re in no condition to assist with anything, so repayment is out of the question for now.

Gods, they hate being stuck like this.

“Look,” A4 says, her stern expression falling into one of genuine concern. “I can tell you’re strong. Most people would have succumbed to the Rot and the pain. I’ve seen many warriors fall into torpor after a mere week, yet you remain conscious and alert. You’d be free to leave once you regain your strength, if you wish.”

A2 chews at their bottom lip as they think, still scowling at the floorboards.

“... Fine,” they huff. “But I’m not letting you wash me. And I can take the medicine myself.”

A4 lights up with a radiant smile that makes A2’s chest tighten. “Great! I’ll leave fresh bandages and salves for you on your table every day. You have to change them each morning or if they get too dirty. The salves will sting a bit but they will prevent further infections. Oh, and exercise is important to the recovery process as well. Helps combat muscle wasting. So I’ll be helping you walk around the Convent grounds every mornin-”

“Like hell you are,” they snap, “I’m not a dog-”

“The walks aren’t negotiable.” A4 doesn’t even look at them as she gathers up old sheets and clothes. “End of story.”

A2 sits back in their bed and scowls, once again, at nothing. Just before A4 leaves their room, they realize something of theirs is missing.

“Where did you take my sword?” It’s a question in technicality, but A2 says it like a command.

“Your sword?”

“Big, black iron blade. Has a…” A lump catches in their throat. “... A black feather on the grip.”

“Oh! Yes, we did recover that from the village.”

“Give it back to me.”

She sighs. “Weapons are not allowed in the medical wards, but…” A4 looks towards the door like a child sneaking treats from under their parents noses. “I can take you to it while we’re on a walk.”

A2 feels a growl rumble in their throat.

“It’s safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to it.”

There’s an air of sincerity around the nun that lends credence to her words. That, and A2 simply doesn’t have the energy to press the issue further.

“Mm…” Is all they respond with.

A4 nods, then shuts the door behind her, leaving A2 alone with their thoughts. They sigh and stare up at the ceiling, wondering why the world won’t let them die.

#nier automata #A2 #nier A4 #fantasy au #nier fanfiction #tank fics

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heartless-error · 3 years

Text

Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 15

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating/Tags: Family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away, brotherly love, fluff

Other(s) links: AO3

Broken.

The Batfamily was broken.

It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.

Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appears, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.

If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Chapter Summary:

“What did you do? What are you afraid of?”

That question asked by Conner Kent that morning was repeated in Damian's mind over and over again as he could hear every second how the fragile threads that had held his composure together all these years were slowly breaking.

Crack. Crack. Damian listened to him.

Turns out he was afraid of many things, but he thought he wouldn't have to face any of them for a long time. Until now.

“Damian...” Timothy said in a low voice, surprised, and betrayed.

Chapter 15

Now

"Damian, what did you do?"

That question asked by Conner Kent that morning in a pained and curious tone as he stood in the doorway of his kitchen, was repeated in Damian's mind over and over again as the same way a loud and muffled echo could invade the corners of an empty and spacious place.

His head wasn't exactly empty, but there was certainly a great lack of logical thought or reaction that made that conversation with his brother-in-law hit him where it hurt at the right time, reminding him of everything he had wanted to say and yet didn’t.

Motionless and trying to assimilate the image in front of him, the youngest of the Wayne family swallowed hard to try to get rid of the strong pressure in his throat that was stopping him from breathing normally.

"What are you afraid of?" Kon had asked, clenching his fists, and looking at him pleadingly, hoping to confirm his suspicions and find out what they had been keeping from him all this time. While he, overwhelmed, used his facade, and turned his back to pretend that everything was going well and didn’t feel the guilt devouring him inside.

Just like now, he was doing his best to step aside on that avenue and act naturally so as not to stand out. Reaffirming his posture so as not to be noticed by the crowd that had begun to disperse and barely controlling the emotions that invaded him. It was the way to keep his sanity even though he could hear every second how the fragile threads that had held his composure together all these years were slowly breaking.

Crack. Crack.

He could feel them splitting in two, falling apart as he looked more at the happy family. It almost hurt him physically, because those threads, those patches, and strings that he had patched up with and tried to fix himself like a broken toy so long ago, had lasted too long. They were old and wrong, badly stitched, and inaccurate. And now they were splitting, falling, leaving the multiple wounds to his heart and soul open and bleeding in a way he hadn't been able to afford before.

Crack. Crack.

The girl in Jason's arms was talking about something while waving her hands and her entire body with excitement, the adult listening patiently with a soft smile and his eyes shining with genuine happiness and affection.

Crack. Crack.

Timothy laughed at what she said, encouraging her to continue as his hand gently cradled the head of the boy he holds, who had leaned on his shoulder sleepily and listened in silence.

Crack. Crack. Damian listened as he remembered. Relentless and painful.

"Damian, what are you afraid of?"

The question arose within him, with regret.

"What are you afraid of?"

Wasn’t sure.

"What are you afraid of?"

Doesn’t know.

"What are you afraid of?"

Many things.

"Are you afraid?"

Yes.

"You do?"

Yes. He’s afraid. He is very afraid.

Or had, rather.

The answer came instinctively, without thinking. He knew he should have answered the same to Kon that morning rather than ignoring him and pretending nothing was happening. He should have been sincere and said yes, indeed he was worried and feared of many, many things, and although he couldn’t explain what they were he had been dreading them all this time.

That little part of him that still belonged to the battered young Damian, barely held behind the patches, could say a lot about it. Could tell him that he was weak, insufficient, that he had softened, and that fear was not something a warrior like him should feel because it was stupid, insignificant.

But given the circumstances, Damian believed that he had a right to have those fears. And, this time, to stop feeling them.

Let go Tim and Jason was not easy. At all.

Not because of everything that happened, not because of the dire consequences that had led him to where he was (all of that was already quite clear at a glance), but because it had fueled insecurity within him which had been dragging all these years.

It wasn’t guilt, nor regret. It was just fear. One so big and magnified that it had paralyzed him to the extreme, that it had fueled his nightmares even more times than deep regret. One he already knew, had already plagued him before in his childhood and whose dominance and poisonous words he had already suffered without being able to avoid.

"What if you have failed?" It was saying.

"What if you have made the wrong decision?" It said.

"If you have, you have ruined everyone's life again." It sentenced with cruelty.

Yes, Damian had been struggling with his insecurities and fear of failure his entire life. Which had undoubtedly been quite harmful, even dangerous.

On this occasion, not only did resurface strongly, but he saw no reason to stop it. After all, despite knowing that Tim and Jason had to go, that he was doing the right thing by helping them, who assured him that it would turn out okay? Uh?

No one.

Once they both disappeared after the airport security check, he was blind, totally, and absolutely blind. He wouldn't know where they were going if they would be safe there, what they would do, how, or if they would be alright.

When he decided to do what he did, he was sure about the reasons, but he didn’t think about what little he would know later and how much that would torture him. And although doing it he was aware of what he was causing around him, the only thing he had in mind was that he would make his brothers happy, that he was giving them what they deserved despite although everything indicated that he would never see them again.

But that insecure part of him, that part that he had decided not to listen anymore after realizing how poisonous it was, didn’t hesitate to begin and whisper and reveal options that he didn't want to take into account, that he hadn't wanted to think about while helping them.

But that voice didn’t stop, it didn’t stop talking and resurfacing as time passed without hearing from them.

What if they are dead? What if they have broken up? What if it went wrong? What if something has happened to them and no one will ever know? They went alone, without equipment, without backup, and nobody knew where they had traveled. The danger was in their lives no matter how much they left it behind, they may have been attacked, or injured, or maybe they had separated, maybe things hadn’t gone well between them when they saw each other in a place other than Gotham, or worse situations could have arisen that nobody has been aware of.

Who knows? He didn't, Damian couldn't because he had said goodbye to them at the airport and hadn't heard from them again. And there was a possibility that he had unconsciously thrown them under the bus or quite the opposite. He couldn't be sure because he was in the dark and that fueled his insecurity, even more, compounding his unease about having made the wrong decision.

Rationally, he knew that this entire line of thought was born out of deep concern for his siblings, out of an enormous desire for them to be safe and happy. And that it was how much he loved them, how much he needed that all this went well which made him so uneasy and afraid that he had failed, that it had not gone as expected and in the end had also ruined Tim's life and Jason in the process.

He couldn't bear that, he couldn't.

He did everything for them, sacrificing himself and the other members of his family for it, not to mention his beloved. If he had failed, if it had not worked, he would have pushed his older siblings out of their life, friends, and family to make them miserable too, and that would be too much.

There was a quota of lives Damian could destroy.

The best thing is that he would never know if it had turned out well or not. He would never know if he had made the right decision, or instead condemned Tim and Jason for the rest of their days.

Damian had resigned himself to being all his life not knowing the truth, to being in total darkness about it, not having a single indication of whether his sacrifice had been worth it or not.

Until now.

Crack. Crack.

He inhaled shakily and then exhaled forcefully, trying to breathe and relax his muscles. His eyes felt burning, he was on the verge of tears of happiness and excitement.

“I did it. I did that.” He thought, assimilating as he could what he was still observing. “I have helped that.”

He had no words to describe the relief and deep comfort he was feeling at that moment. It was indescribable, overwhelming, like a balm that drowned him and lifted all the guilt and anxiety of those last two days. That anguishing weight that he had carried so long on his back had vanished in an instant, it had evaporated the moment he saw the scene in front of him and he could finally breathe, feel.

Barbara had told him that he needed this, that he needed to see it. And as much as he was mad at her for the whole debacle that morning, she was right, she was so, so right.

He needed to see Tim and Jason in person, without filters. See them together, embraced, with a ring on their finger and holding what was now their own family. He needed to see what he had helped to create, what they had achieved thanks to him, what his effort, pain, and perseverance had resulted in because otherwise, he would not believe it.

Crack. Crack.

This, all this, was what he craved and desired. The proof he wanted and now was in front of him.

Suddenly his father's anger didn't matter anymore, or Grayson's rejection, neither his sadness nor anything else in the world, because he could breathe. He could breathe and he could live, live without problems, and move on knowing what he had accomplished.

Damian sighed and lifted one of his shaking hands to his face, rubbing his eyes to keep from crying and his cheeks to make sure he hadn't started to do it before. He felt overwhelmed and vulnerable. So many things to think about, to feel. Feelings weren't his strength, but he'd held back so much and it's not like he'd expected to reach any other way when he found Tim and Jason. To tell the truth, it is not as if he had stopped to think about how he would act or behave the moment he met them again because it was not something that he had thought would happen.

So, there he was, with his father behind him, also quiet and assimilating. Both trying to go unnoticed on the avenue that led to the school. Possibly drowning inside and trying to keep their composure not to run to where the other family was.

Crack. Crack.

Quite useless because his threads kept breaking, kept tearing apart.

With his heart pounding, Damian fixed his gaze on the children Tim and Jason held. Analyzing them carefully as his chest swelled with unexpected pride and affection that he didn't even bother to suppress.

Both were small and fragile, but they seemed happy and very close, especially in the arms of their parents. They were probably in preschool, four or five years old at most. The girl was a little taller than the boy, but if Damian had to guess he would say they were twins.

The girl was energetic and smiling from what he could see. Her sleek, shiny black hair was pulled back into adorable pigtails that bounced as she leaned into Jason's arms to call her brother, gesturing with her hands, and laughing adorably as her sky-blue eyes sparkled with glee.

The boy, a little calmer and smaller straightened up and stopped Tim from stroking his short, dark, straight hair as he leaned down to let his sister's hand grip his tightly, causing the girl to let out a small giggle heard from his position.

However, the boy didn’t seem to mind that, neither did he appear to listen to what Tim or Jason began to say, but rather distracted by something else, almost confused. Raising his head with a surprised expression and still holding his sister's hand, the boy's greenish-blue eyes turned to his left, then to the right, as if they were looking for something. He looked back, again to the right, to the left, and then directly to ...

Shit.

Damian froze.

And Bruce, whose presence hadn't bothered to think until now, did too.

He was looking at them.

Double shit.

The boy was looking directly at them, with intensity and some curiosity in that innocent look.

Neither of them could prevent a chill from running through them, because how had he noticed them? As much as Damian had been overcome by the situation, he believed that they had moved away from the center of the avenue and had hidden among the people quite well. They were bats, going unnoticed was part of their charm, no one had noticed them, why did the boy?

Crack. Crack.

Now the little one was watching them carefully, indiscreet, amazed, and still leaning his little body on Timothy.

Out of nowhere, the last Robin felt a change of pressure on his arm that would have surprised him if he hadn't been motionless under the unusual gaze of that kid. It was familiar, but not in a good way and he couldn't place it. But not he couldn’t stop and think about it because it wasn't that important when his father, who hadn't let go of his grip on him all this time, pulled back his arm imperceptibly as if he wanted to instigate him to leave.

That confused him even more, because did he want a withdrawal? Batman? After everything?

Crack. Crack.

The boy kept looking at them without paying attention to anything else. And with his grasp on his sister’s hand wavering, she ended up looking at him realizing where his attention was, fixing those icy eyes on them in an instant.

Bruce tightened his grip, Damian felt trapped.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

“Hey, kiddos.” He heard Jason say when neither of them answered what they were saying. “Are you listening?”

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

“What are you looking a...?”

When Tim asked that, he followed the children's gaze

And then their eyes met.

CRACK!

Everything fell silent. The world around them paused.

Tim stood still, stiff as a statue and a surprised expression breaking through his features. Jason, noticing his hesitation, also ended up looking in their direction, narrowing his eyes and leaving his face completely blank, indecipherable, listless in disguised but no less latent anger and rage.

Damian held his breath, feeling completely vulnerable and destroyed inside, waiting for the illusion to break and everything to fall apart. The chances of this ending badly were high and not all results were favorable to either party. From everything that could happen maybe they would flee, or attack, maybe Bruce did, or a scene worthy of a show or even a chase could happen. He couldn’t tell, the situation was complicated and at this moment he felt trapped, undecided, the tension between them was becoming almost unbearable despite being meters apart.

Slowly, Tim tightened his grip on the boy and cradled his head again to bury his face in his shoulder, ignoring the curiosity of the minor and preventing him from looking at them any longer. In turn, Jason also adjusted his strong grip on the girl and made a move to step back, as if ready to run out.

A pinch went through his chest, aching and cold, realizing they wanted to flee. Of them, of him.

But no, he wasn’t the problem. Damian wasn't the problem, he knew it.

Who they looked at, who they didn't take their eyes off, who they fixed their eyes with distrust, terror, and deep disappointment, from whom they protected the children and who they didn’t want them to see, wasn’t him but who was behind him. It was Bruce who they wanted to run away from, who they inspected with an intense and aware glance each time as if he planned to take their children away or attack them at any moment. To be honest, they had reason to think that, and if they hadn't been caught in these circumstances, they would probably be a long way off by now.

They had seen Damian too, yes, their eyes had met for a few glorious seconds that take his breath away. But they weren't watching him, they hadn't tensed when they saw him, because they knew they didn't have to worry or take care of him, they trusted him but unfortunately, they couldn't say the same for Bruce.

Bruce realized that he was the only problem here, that it was his very presence that was sabotaging his opportunity to speak to them. Nor was it very difficult to deduce, not only for all the times Damian had reiterated what would happen but because the sharp, cautious, warning glances were directed solely at him. If they fled it was because of Batman if they lost them was his fault.

The grip on his arm became stronger but shaky and almost hesitant. Although surprisingly, after a few long seconds, it began to slowly loosen until it completely disappeared, setting him free.

It was like a leash was removed and Damian didn't even think about it or deigned to look back before starting to run towards his brothers.

All he heard was his racing heartbeat, and all he saw was his older brothers getting closer, closer, closer, right there. They still watched their father closely but seemed to relax as they realized Damian was the only one approaching them and not Batman.

They decided to release the kids and leave them in the ground as they hide them behind them so as not to have their hands full, just in case. The kids stayed behind Jason's legs, stunned, and watching him as he got closer.

By the time he was finally in front of them, he had no words.

It was curious because during all these years he found himself many times thinking about the things he would say if they met again one day. And now that he was here, he had no idea where to start, or even to start. His heart kept beating too fast and his voice didn't seem to work right, his thoughts were racing that he couldn't focus on just one and he just stood there, looking at the agitated and still assimilating that it was them.

“Damian…” Tim said in a low voice, amazed and looking him up and down.

He shuddered because he knew that feeling so well, the one to make sure he was seeing who he thought it was because it was the same one he had since he'd gotten there and saw them ... like this.

Jason still hadn't taken his eyes off Bruce, suspicious and with one arm behind him to make sure the kids were still there, but he knew he was also very aware that he was two feet in front of them.

“I…" He said in a hoarse voice, broken by nerves. “I don’t…”

Fuck.

He didn't know what to say.

He was one of the most lethal people in the world and yet he was hesitating, not knowing how to talk to them and regretful as well as grateful for having found them. There were no more seams to break, there was nowhere to hide.

He knew he shouldn’t be here, but at the same time he wanted to be here, and how could he express that?

Tim's blue eyes kept him in place and Jason was already alternating between watching his father and staring at him in a daze. And at least he didn't seem to be the only one not knowing what the hell to say, because the elders also seemed to have problems reacting, causing silence and a less aggressive tension to settle on them.

“I didn't want this.” He ended up blurting out. “Neither Jonathan. It was a coincidence, they found you and I tried to stop them from doing this, but they didn't listen to me. They got angry and forced me to...”

They had to know that, they had to forgive him. This had not been his plan, he had not betrayed them, he would never, never do that and he was so mad at himself for letting this happen.

And he was going to continue with his pathetic explanation when Tim raised his hand and silenced him by cradling his cheek gently. Didn't walk away, and the fact that he was caressing the side of his face where Grayson had punched him that morning didn’t go unnoticed.

Tim's gaze traveled from his swollen cheek to the other wounds on his face, to his head, then to his side, his hands, his torso, all of him, and then back up, meeting his eyes and repeating the process. Jason, who was no longer watching the bat, seemed to be doing the same silently and with the same disgruntled expression. Damian didn't know what they were doing, why they were examining him like this, and why they weren't scolding and berating him instead. They didn't even seem to have heard him, and if they had they didn't care, but he didn't understand, they should be furious with him.

Timothy finally sighed heavily and when his indigo eyes met his again, they were wet, shining with pure affection and joy. A soft smile was beginning to adorn his face.

“Dami.” He said in his voice raw with emotion. “You grew up so much.”

The next thing was like a dam collapsing.

Jason grabbed his shirt and dragged him towards them, making Damian lunge as they both greeted him with open arms. He ended up being hugged between the two with more force than should have given his injuries. But it didn't matter, because he, defenseless and without barriers, couldn't help but start shedding all the tears that he had been suppressing so far and found himself sobbing as he grabbed them as if they were the only thing keeping him alive.

And he didn't care, he didn't care about anything.

Because there were no more defenses left intact inside of him and fuck, he deserved this, he did. He knew it, he had earned it. He deserved to hold them tight, to feel how they held him in return, he deserved to grab Jason's arm and Tim's shoulder to bring them closer to him, to bury his face in the wide shoulder of one and let everything out while the other ran his hand down his back and cradled his head in that familiar way he instinctively knew.

He had been so afraid of forgetting how those touches felt, those unusual yet characteristic gestures. With each passing year, he had become more terrified of himself as he realized that he could not remember certain things, remember them in the same way. Like the way they smelled, the sound of their voices, how Jason held someone so firmly and securely, or Tim made him calmly lean on him.

He hadn't wanted to forget any of it, but he couldn't help himself and now that he was experiencing it again, he felt like he was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen years old again. And now, he was again the insecure child who couldn’t believe that someone loved him for the simple fact of being him, that they had chosen to be his family and love him despite his mistakes, his past.

And it was in that instant, at that moment, squeezed between his two brothers, that he realized that the seams and threads he had tried to build, those that had been so easily broken a few minutes ago, were not necessary. He felt more complete than ever. The sad little boy locked up behind them was now laughing and the affection that emerged from that embrace made all previous anguish disappear.

He was so happy. Every tear he shed was of happiness, he was sure he couldn't feel anything else now.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” He sobbed over and over, now on Tim's shoulder.

He had so many reasons to be grateful to them. For staying alive, for moving on, for continuing to love and trust him deeply, for missing him as well, for continuing to be his brothers despite their time apart.

“I'm sorry, forgive me..." He said that too because he felt he had to.

“It's okay, Babybat." Jason replied.

“Akhi...”

"We got you, Damian." Tim whispered. "It’s okay, we got you."

He didn't know how long they stayed there, but it had to be a long time. With one discharging all the tears that he had saved for six years (and even longer) as if he were a sprinkler and the others comforting him how they could. He was not very clear of the things he had said between sobs and he also didn’t exactly remember the quiet responses of the others to comfort him, but it had to be too much.

If he had seen it from the outside, Damian would have even found it funny to witness how Tim, who was now much shorter, had to stand on tiptoe to reach his hair or wipe the tears from the face of a brother who was not that small.

But instead, after being able to breathe a little better and realizing that the painful, tearful explosion had been through the worst of it, he found himself busier trying to lessen the damage and rid himself of the silent tears that had been left behind.

The universe had other plans and wanted to humiliate him even more because he had not even separated from the hug or decently dried his tears -or with dignity- when a light touch on his knee startled him, drawing his attention and of the two elders to their feet.

Separating a little, it was the sight of the children looking at them with concern and frowns that reminded them that they were not alone in this reunion. Which made them finally pull away and pull themselves together a bit.

The boy had rested the palm of his hand on Damian's knee, curious and pained, while the girl had grabbed onto Tim's pants and gazed between them impatiently, waiting for their attention.

“Hey, kiddos.” Jason said, sighing heavily, but with a smile. "Too bad of us, we forgot to make introductions, right?"

Some of them nodded, but Damian didn't see him because he was wiping his face and trying to be decent in the most dignified way he could find. After all, he had just realized that the first image his nephews were going to have of him was that of a pathetic crybaby clinging to his parents.

“Sorry.” Tim explained to them patiently as he separated the girl's hands from his pants and caressed the bridge of her nose from top to bottom lovingly. “It had been a long time since we saw each other, and we’ve missed him a lot. We were happy and got distracted.”

“Like Whiskey?” The girl asked then, honestly and without malice.

Jason bit back a laugh and Tim shook his head, funny.

“More or less, yes.” He claimed. “But it's not the same. Because Whiskey saw you every day and it’s not a relative. You understand it, right?”

This time he could see how they both nodded understandingly and with their eyes shining intelligent, understanding the emotion that one of their parents had just explained to them and the why of that dramatic tear-jerker show.

And Damian didn't know what or who the fuck Whiskey was, so he wasn't sure if he had to be offended or not.

However, Jason placed the kids in front of him, side by side, and they ended up looking at each other. It was there when Damian was beginning to understand that he was in quite serious trouble as the strong and powerful instinct of protection and devotion towards them came out of nowhere inside him and almost scared him.

"Damian." Tim started to say, pointing first at the girl. "This is Lynn, our daughter."

Lynn jumped a little and smiled at him, adorable.

Damian smiled back at her and held back from looking at Timothy at all. Lynn… It was a pretty name, and he knew the reason for it, the legend of Janet Lynn Drake still resonated in the higher Gotham socialite.

"And Will, our son." He said this time pointing to the boy.

Will waved his hand to him but he looked down embarrassed, shy, and sweet.

Damian smiled at him the same way he smiled at his sister even though he couldn't see him as his chest twisted. Will… Will… It could be because of William, like any character of a book Jason liked, or… it could be because of Willis Todd.

What the fuck, Jason.

“Okay. Princess, Snowflake, this is Damian.” Jason continued, smiling, and pointing at him without caring about the nicknames or the obvious surprise on his face. “Our little brother and your uncle. Treat him well and don't eat him.”

Damian tried not to choke or start crying again at the warmth and excitement that ran through him when he heard Jason introduce him that way. Instead, he crouched down to be at the same level as the little ones and held out one of his hands in greeting.

“Hi.” He said to them trying to outline a firm smile.

Damian had no fucking idea what he was doing because he was good with kids in the field, but how did you talk to children on a regular day basis? How did you talk to your nephews? Especially with those you just met?

Oh my god, he was an uncle, uncle. These children were his nephews, and he was holding out his hand to them, wasn't that very boring? Would a cool uncle do that?

Did he even want to be the cool uncle?

Lynn's warm little hand went to his and tried to take it to return the greeting, but he had to grab it because it was too tiny, it barely covered the palm of his hand, and Damian's heart squeezed when he saw his little hand disappear under his.

“Why were you crying?” She asked, too direct, but still curious and innocent.

He tensed. He didn't know what to say to her, he thought Tim had made them understand that it was because he had missed their parents. But of course, a child's mind works in a rather curious way sometimes. For a moment he considered lying, but there was not much to say either and with a single look into her crystalline eyes Damian knew he would never be capable of doing that now.

"Because I'm so happy to meet you."

That, along with his confession to Jonathan years ago, maybe was the most sincere and clear thing he has ever said.

He heard Jason snort above them and was about to complain, but then Will walked over to him, and instead of trying to grab his hand as his sister had done, he just lifted his and placed it on his swollen cheek, the same way Tim had done when he saw him, imitating his father.

Damian blinked in surprise, his eyes watering again. His hand was so tiny and soft, so innocent and fragile, trying to comfort him despite having no idea what was going on. His heart clenched tighter and that sense of protection grew more, much more.

“Shh. Don’t cry anymore.” Will said a little secure of himself and smiling softly. “We are also happy to meet you, Uncle Damian.”

“Yes!” Lynn exclaimed clinging to his arm. “Finally, Uncle Damian!”

Uncle Damian.

That sounded in his head a thousand times and there was no way in the multiverse to describe how much he loved hearing it.

He cradled Will's hand still on his cheek and let Lynn hug his side as they both began to speak to him and bombard him with innocent questions, between giggles and jumps of excitement that shook his heart.

And while he was trying to think how to answer questions like "Do you want to meet Whiskey?", "Do you want to play tea party with us?" or "What’s your favorite Disney film?", he looked up to see how Tim and Jason had re-fixed their serious glances behind him, across the avenue, right at the exact spot where he had left Bruce.

When he turned around and looked, there was no one there.

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markcampbells · 3 years

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Hey, I've just seen your reblog of Lady Danbury, I'm guessing you've watched Bridgerton? Thoughts?

Hello, anon! (It’s been like a year since I got a genuine anon so this is an exciting occasion...)

I have seen half of Bridgerton! (I am what we call a slow binger who watches like half or most of a series and then gets to the rest when she gets to it, which can be a while. :p) I do know spoilers from friends/discussion groups and from general discussion about the books, so generally what I haven’t seen I do know about.

So, the good: I think the cast is great and as an Austen fan, it’s doing wonders for getting people into the era and excited about period stories, which is great! Mindy Kaling recently tweeted thanking Bridgerton for “normalizing her softcore Austen predilection,” and I relate to that strongly. :p I ended up starting it with my parents over the Christmas holidays and my stepdad got sucked right in, so it has that power to captivate people and I love that it’s breaking records. The colorblind casting is a great thing that more productions should model, though it does have its limitations (like that there are a lot of races that haven’t been represented just yet, and that it was written to be colorblind but not necessarily color conscious, since some subplots read a little weird when you factor in the races of the characters involved). I agree with a bunch of fans who are hoping that more significant characters (especially the female love interests for some of the brothers) will be cast as women of color in the future. (This is of course provided that the show gets a Season 2, which right now looks inevitable but, you know, pandemic fucking up all kinds of shit so who knows.) It’s also great that it’s on Netflix, which makes it super accessible, as opposed to shows that end up on more niche services and so don’t see that kind of love. (Me? Speaking as a fan of things like The Last Tycoon and Doom Patrol that got overshadowed by being on more niche services and/or canceled? ... what! no!)

The bad... uh. Well. So I read the book in summer 2019, and due to the, um, bad consent dynamics? between Simon and Daphne, I sort of hated it. And I don’t love that the show decided to keep that instance of dubious consent, even if they toned it down somewhat. I also don’t love the way that portions of the fandom are responding to that moment, by saying things like “well Simon took advantage of Daphne’s ignorance about sex, so he deserved her doing that to him!” (Newsflash, uh, both sides being toxic doesn’t mean they cancel each other out? Or something?) Fortunately many people are calling out that scene via tweets and thinkpieces, and I got a laugh out of a tweet my friend shared of someone saying “Simon and Daphne need THERAPY.” That’s the thing that stops me from loving the show as much as most people--Simon and Daphne have that core of dysfunction that can’t really be resolved in a way that involves them talking and getting past it because, well, conversations about assault and consent dynamics are too modern for a period show. Simon and Daphne are also the first endgame in a romance-based series, so it’s not like the show is going to have them split up for good or have real conflict arise out of that scenario. I feel that the problem is that the writers chose to (a) keep this scenario instead of leaving it out entirely and (b) that because they can’t deal with the scenario in a modern way, their only choice is to basically avoid portraying what Daphne does as assault, so it kind of gets glossed over. My only hope is that the writers are listening to the fan concerns about these issues and take those into account for future seasons, because I’ve been told (and have read in reviews) that other books of Quinn’s also have moments of questionable consent, and I really don’t want this to become a recurring theme in the show.

To sum up: there are great things about this show! The diversity of the casting is great and a positive thing for the genre overall even though it still has room to approve, and that the show is super accessible to people who don’t normally watch the genre is awesome. The performers themselves are splendid in their roles and it’s definitely made me a fan of a few people I might not have known otherwise. But the reason I’m personally not totally sold on the show as much as others is that the questionable consent dynamics and the way Simon and Daphne can’t really resolve their very real issues due to the period setting make it harder for me to wholeheartedly love the show. That being said, I appreciate how enthusiastic my friends (particularly my friends of color) are for a show that really represents them, and it is great to see a genre show getting mainstream love. I’m willing to hold out for improvement on the things I think could use fixing! So Bridgerton isn’t necessarily my favorite show, but I do enjoy it and I’m glad it exists!

(Seriously, thank you, anon! Other than the one anon ask I got last year the last genuine anon ask I got was, like, 2017, so that there’s still someone out there willing to pop in and ask me for my thoughts on something like this means a lot and gave me something fun to talk about!)

#ask box #anonymous

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readerinsertfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Midsummer Texts

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh

Characters: Yugi Muto & Yami Yugi

Prompt: Yugi has a crush but has no idea how to talk to her. Yami offers to chat with Yugi’s crush over text. Confusion and chaos ensues as feelings go wayward.

A/N: I suck at writing romance, but this blog is a good excuse to start practising. I’m not quite decided whether this will end up to be a Yami x reader or a Yugi x reader. Maybe I will do both and make it a choose-your-own-adventure?

Once more an AU where Yugi and Yami are twins.

**Duel Online is something I came up with and totally did not name after Duel Links. Since I don’t play DL and have no idea how it works I’m going to create my own game so that I can mess around as I like without judgement. ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

Over the course of a weekend a lot had changed. It started in the morning, as you got up and resolved to change your own mindset. A look in the mirror, a look of determination shared between you and your reflection.

“No backing out now.”

Your new motto lingered on within your mind as you made your way to school, where you would encounter the other change that had happened over the weekend.

“Be resilient,” Yugi said to himself as he fixed his hair, a look of resolution shared with his image reflected at the other side. Had he known about your confession to his brother Yugi would have probably chosen something else to say.

From Yami’s side there was only dread and conflict. As much as he treasured you as a friend and loved his brother there was no way in which he could satisfy the both of you, realising how both your hopes and wants were conflicting.

“Fingers crossed,” was all he sighed as he watched his brother walk down the path he dreaded the most.

“Morning [Name],” Yugi was quick to greet you, in fact, he was the first to come for you, splitting from the group to meet you at the door. “How are you feeling?” the male continued, his eyes ever so kind and genuine as he asked the rather absurd question.

Taking a moment to respond your eyes travelled over the rest of the group, meeting that of a particular older twin who was busy avoiding yours. Frowning, you returned your gaze to the other, your expression just a little confused as you couldn’t quite place the concern that was on Yugi’s face.

“Fine, I think?” you finally settled upon, wondering what this was all about. Fearing that you were saying too much you kept it vague, instead forcing a smile from your lips as you joined the rest of the group, relieved to see that the rest of the group seemed normal enough.

“I was thinking, since you left early last weekend, that I could maybe help you again with our free period?” Yugi’s voice piped up, grabbing hold of your attention once more.

You didn’t dare to express it, but there was something different about the male. Almost as if he had switched personality entirely, though you always knew that there was strength hidden within the otherwise shyer younger Mutou.

“Sure?” you let out, not sounding as confident as your answer seemed, neither did you sound as set on the idea as the beaming Yugi, whose smile couldn’t grow any wider anymore as he nodded firmly.

“It’s a date then!” he exclaimed, and before you could get anything between it the male ran off, leaving you with the rest of the gang in the corridor.

“What was that about?” Tristan mused out loud, seemingly as flabbergasted as the rest was about the sudden boldness of their friend.

“Does this mean we won’t be allowed to interfere?” Joey questioned. For once you didn’t giggle over the cluelessness of the blond, finding that you were as much scrapping for an answer as the rest of the group was.

Everyone but Yami, who kept to himself, his expression a frown once more as he gritted his teeth.

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean to imply that you aren’t welcome,” you recovered, patting Joey on the back. “I wouldn’t mind you joining if you really want to?”

You were being unfair towards Yugi, you knew that, but knowing what his feelings were while also aware of your own feelings. It was bound to be awkward and that made you feel even more undeserving of his warm attention.

“I need to catch up on homework,” Yami cut in, quickly turning down your invitation. The way his expression darkened didn’t escape you, your guilt growing to an overwhelming point. It was unfair to the older Mutou as well, knowing your feelings, knowing his brother’s, and having to stand in the middle of it.

An awkward silence, an exchange of looks, and a scrape of the throat. Nervously you were waiting for the silence to pass, for the verdict to come, for everyone to speak up, maybe even admonish you for your own insensitivity. “It’s a date,” he had said, loud and clear.

“Ah, I forgot about English,” Joey sighed to himself, for once not the last one to catch onto the situation, an arm bumping against Tristan who quickly joined in on the statement.

“I will need to borrow your maths homework, Anzu,” the brunet spoke, earning a cringe from you as you slowly watched the numbers dwindle down.

Hearing a sigh and a rustle Anzu pulled out her notebook, pushing it into the direction of Tristan with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m joining [Name] and Yugi, but you owe me.”

Winking the female threw you a reassuring smile, arm bumping against you in a reassuring way, as if silently telling you that she wasn’t going to leave you alone despite what the rest of the male population had decided.

A shot of warmth spread across your chest, a smile carefully turning on your face as you wondered how awkward it would be if you got down on your knees now to thank the angel that had descended upon you.

“I knew there was something going on between the three of you.”

During the intermission of your class you quickly explained everything that had gone down over the weekend to Tea who could only let go of a sigh, eyes turning up to the roof as she was trying to progress everything that you had just told her. “I was already wondering what had gotten the two of you so down over picking up a mere pizza,” the female continued to muse, her fingers tapping against her chin as she finally pieced together the puzzle.

Another sigh. Another confirmation over the mess you found yourself in.

“Yeah, I don’t think Yami said anything to Yugi about me confessing, but.”

Sighing, you let your head sink into your arms, cradling yourself between your elbows and hands as you just wanted this day to be over. “I feel like a jerk,” you mumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

Hearing Yugi’s voice pop up nearly made you fall out of your seat, your hands reaching for the sides of your desk as you tried to maintain your balance. “Yugi!” you gasped, more so to yourself than to the male who had surprised you.

“Hiya Yugi, what brings you here?” Tea greeted, seemingly better at recovering from the surprise than you were.

Shrugging the male threw a shy smile, still not entirely used to his new bold strategy, but pushing through nonetheless. “Just checking up if [Name] is still up for the session after the break,” he spoke, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he remembered his earlier exclamation.

Where the morning couldn’t be over soon enough for you, the first period had seemed so far away from Yugi.

“Though, what is this I hear about you feeling like a jerk?” Yugi quickly recovered, eyes suddenly glazing over in determination as an unsual frown appeared on his face. Everything within him was set ready to finely explain how exactly you could never be a jerk. Not to him, at least.

A speech you did not need to hear right now.

“No, nothing, I was just recalling some silly incident when I exited the elevators today,” you quickly brushed off before throwing a warning look into Tea’s direction. Not that the female needed one, her eyes holding the same sheen of determination as Yugi did.

“Mind if I join in?” Tea was quick to interfere instead, her smile warm as ever. “[Name] was saying earlier in the corridors that we’re all welcome to join if you’re alright with it.”

The way your friend had worded herself hurt a little, though you supposed she was only speaking the truth when she posed the question.

“Haha, yeah, I did,” you awkwardly pitched in, nodding along with each word as you turned over to Yugi. “Though the rest said that they had something else to do, so I guess it will only be the three of us,” you explained, hoping to negate the damage at least a little.

Yugi’s expression was unreadable at that, his eyes following the exchange before settling with a smile to cloud his own feelings on the matter.

“The more the merrier, not?” he chirped, undeterred as ever.

You could only hope to be half as optimistic as Yugi was.

#ygo x reader #ygo #yugi x reader #yugioh x reader #yami x reader #midsummer texts #series

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cruelangelstheses · 4 years

Text

blue neighborhood - chapter 1: WILD

fandom: avatar: the last airbender rating: T characters: sokka/zuko words (total): 1.8k words (this chapter): 1.8k additional tags: modern au (no bending), high school, college, time skips, childhood friends, friends to lovers, slow burn, (internalized) homophobia, implied/referenced child abuse, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending description: for zuko and sokka, the line between best friends and lovers has been blurred for a long time. a/n: hello!!! posting this just in time for @zukka-week (specifically day 4: free day, since it doesn’t really fit into any of the other prompts, though i guess this fic will also focus on pain and healing a lot so it could count for that too), but i’ve had this idea in my head literally since blue neighborhood came out. i don't even listen to troye much anymore but i needed this to be a thing. each chapter is inspired by a different song off the deluxe edition of BN, going in order of the track list, and they’re sort of out of order because they’re all little vignettes/“glimpses” into zuko and sokka’s relationship at different points in time! the first chapter is the beginning though, and the last chapter is the end (it’ll make more sense as you read each chapter). warnings are in the additional tags. ty for reading! :3

read it on ao3

—

“Hey, Zuko! Look what Gran-Gran got for me!”

Zuko, nine years old, sticks his head out the window of his bedroom and glances down at his neighbor Sokka, who stands eagerly in Zuko’s backyard one Saturday morning with his hands behind his back. “Okay,” he says slowly. “What is it?”

“Guess!” Sokka replies with a grin.

Zuko groans a little. “Sokka, you know I’m bad at guessing, and you always just tell me what it is anyway.”

“Just try!” Sokka insists.

Zuko sighs and thinks for a moment. He’s always one to let go of his stubbornness for Sokka. “Um...candy?”

“No!” Sokka says. “It’s not something you can eat. It’s something you can play with!”

Zuko shrugs. “A ball?”

Sokka shakes his head. “Nope.” With that, he reveals the toy he’s been hiding behind his back. “It’s a boomerang! Wanna try it out with me?”

Zuko bites his lip. “I dunno. My dad’s home. He might not let me.”

“Just ask him,” Sokka says, matter-of-fact.

Zuko doesn’t want to explain why that plan isn’t always as simple as it sounds, but he really does want to play outside with Sokka. Pulling his dark hair up into a ponytail, he runs downstairs, where he finds both his parents eating breakfast in the kitchen. Neither of them are speaking, but Zuko ignores the tension between them. He’s more concerned with his own desires, and besides, they’re always like this.

“Can I go play outside with Sokka?” he asks.

Ozai raises a disapproving eyebrow. “You really should be making friends with more civilized children.”

“Well—I, um…” Zuko stutters nervously. He still doesn’t really understand why his father always makes such rude comments about Sokka and his family. They’ve never been anything but kind to Zuko. “It’s only for a little while. We’re gonna practice throwing his new boomerang.”

Ozai exchanges glances with Ursa, who turns to Zuko with sympathetic eyes and says, “Yes, of course.”

Ozai looks like he wants to protest, but he seems to be preoccupied with whatever problem he and Ursa are having, so he simply sighs and adds, “Be back in no more than two hours.”

“Great, thanks,” Zuko says hurriedly, and without another moment’s hesitation, he sprints outside, where his best friend is waiting for him.

—

On a perfectly average day as they’re walking home from school, a twelve-year-old Sokka asks, “So, have you ever kissed anyone?”

Zuko, now thirteen, stops in his tracks, caught completely off-guard. “I—what? Why?” His voice is high-pitched and cracked, and he glances over at his house nearby. If he doesn’t get home soon, his father might wonder where he is.

Sokka shrugs. “I was just thinking, ‘cause I overheard Jet bragging about his first kiss in the hall today.”

“Well, that’s Jet for you,” Zuko replies dismissively. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Well, you two are the same age, so I thought maybe you’d had yours, too.”

“Age has nothing to do with it,” Zuko says, trying not to let his embarrassment show. “What, you think as soon as someone reaches eighth grade they have to have their first kiss?”

“Hey, it was just a question,” Sokka says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I was just thinking that you could help me.”

If Zuko thought he was embarrassed before, now he’s absolutely mortified. Feeling his cheeks turn bright red, he stutters, “You—what?”

“I don’t want people to think I’m a bad kisser!” Sokka says, crossing his arms and leaning against a neighbor’s fence. “So I thought maybe you could teach me. Give me some pointers. Then when I have my first kiss, I’ll be ready!”

Zuko just stares at him for a few short moments, stunned and confused and unable to think clearly. Finally he says, “H-how am I supposed to teach you how to do something I’ve never done myself?”

“I don’t know.” For a split second, Sokka looks almost dejected. Then another idea seems to hit him, and his face lights up once again. “Well, we could practice together!”

He says it with a great deal of confidence, but Zuko can tell that he’s nervous by the way he deliberately avoids making eye contact. Stupidly, Zuko asks, “What do you mean, ‘practice?’”

Now it’s Sokka’s turn on the embarrassment train. “Well, I mean—it’d be like—well.” He clears his throat to give himself more time to collect his thoughts. Then he says, “You know exactly what I mean, Zuko.”

He’s right, too. Zuko does know.

“Well,” Zuko says slowly, still blushing furiously, “if we…do that, then wouldn’t that be your first kiss right there?”

“No! It doesn’t count if it’s just practice. Duh.” He rolls his eyes, as if this should be obvious. “Besides, then you can get better at kissing, too!”

Zuko takes another brief glance over at his house. It’s only a few doors away from where they’re standing, on the sidewalk in front of a neighbor’s place, Sokka still leaning against the fence. The area is mostly shaded by the small trees that populate the neighborhood, their leaves red and orange and preparing to fall from the branches. Not a single car passes by, nor does Zuko see anyone outside. Even in the late afternoon sun, it almost feels as though they’re completely alone, isolated from the rest of the world. No one would see. No one would care.

“Sokka…” Zuko starts, his voice quieter now as he dares to truly let himself look at his best friend. The early autumn breeze blows some of Sokka’s stray hairs into his face, cutting across his bright blue eyes. He bites his lip and attempts to fix his ponytail, but he pauses mid-motion when he notices Zuko staring.

“What?” he says, seeming genuinely confused. His eyes are wide with curiosity as he looks up at Zuko, his arms still lifted above his head. Zuko knows he should turn away, but Sokka’s raised eyebrows wear him down. He knows he shouldn’t do it, but when Sokka looks like that...well, how could he not want to break the rules?

Zuko’s friends and family always tell him how impulsive he is, how he never thinks things through, how he takes life on with a “shoot first, ask questions later” attitude. Until this moment, though, he never realized how right they were.

Without thinking, his mind nothing but white noise, Zuko leans forward and kisses Sokka right on the mouth. His lips are surprisingly soft, his breath warm, and it kind of feels weird, but not bad weird; perhaps “unfamiliar” is a better word. Sokka doesn’t react immediately, and Zuko starts to panic, but just as he’s about to pull away, Sokka grabs him by his shirt and kisses him back. It all happens in a matter of seconds, simple and sweet and innocent, but it’s enough to make Zuko’s heart pound hard in his chest.

Now Sokka’s face is bright red, but he still tries to maintain the illusion of composure. “See?” he says, voice cracking. “That was good! That was great! So…now we both know.” He flashes Zuko a quick grin, but it’s not enough to hide the blush or the breathlessness. “Well, uh, we should probably be getting home,” he adds, pointing in the general direction of his own house. “See ya!”

Before Zuko even has a chance to say anything, Sokka turns and rushes down the sidewalk, only looking back once. For a few moments, Zuko just stands there staring after him, trying to process what the hell just happened. Then he remembers his father and the time, so he runs the rest of the way to his house, unaware that it’s the last time the sun will see his face unblemished.

—

“When I get older, I wanna leave this place.”

They’re both lying on Sokka’s bed when he says this, his arms behind his head and his gaze trained on the ceiling, a look of wistful contemplation on his face. Zuko turns from his stomach onto his side and rests his head in his hand. “No kidding,” he says with a sigh.

“I’d love to travel,” Sokka adds, smiling a little. “Imagine it: just you and me on our own little road trip across the country, blasting shitty ‘80s music and buying snacks at half-abandoned rest stops.”

Zuko snorts. “Ah, yes. The picture of luxury: Doritos and ‘Take On Me.’”

Sokka shrugs. “I mean, that’s pretty much all I’d need to be happy. That and you.” He says it so nonchalantly that Zuko doubts his own hearing ability for a brief moment.

“Sometimes I feel guilty for wanting to leave,” Sokka continues, sitting up and frowning. “Of course I’d miss my family, my friends. But I feel so trapped sometimes, you know? Like I’m stuck here.”

Zuko nods. He knows exactly what Sokka means. Their town holds so many memories—some happy, many not—but sometimes it feels like there’s a cloud constantly hanging over it. Or perhaps it’s just that the cloud is constantly hanging over him. Sometimes it feels like that, too.

“I mean,” Sokka says slowly, “you have a perfectly valid reason to want to leave. If I were you, I’d probably try to get as far away from here as possible.”

Zuko still doesn’t say anything. Ever since that day nearly a year ago, the day his father scarred him and kicked him out of the house, he’s been searching for a way to redeem himself. His uncle tells him sometimes that he doesn’t need Ozai’s approval, but Zuko never listens. He understands why Sokka would think he’d want to leave and never see his father again, but that’s exactly why he can’t bring himself to. If he left, his father would think he was running away from his problems.

Zuko’s never been the type to run away.

Sokka gives him a hard, knowing stare, as if he can tell what Zuko is thinking about just by looking at him. He probably can. “Zuko,” he says, his gaze flitting very briefly to the left side of Zuko’s face.

Zuko turns away, trying in vain to block out the memory of their lips touching underneath an autumn sky, naive enough to think that the trees would keep them out of sight. It doesn’t matter that he enjoyed it, and it doesn’t matter that part of him wishes it would happen again. He kissed his best friend—he kissed a boy—and he paid the price for it.

“Well,” Zuko says finally, glancing back over at Sokka with a faint smile, “one day we’ll get out of here. I promise.”

#zukka #zuko x sokka #zuko #sokka #zukkaweek #avatar: the last airbender #atla #my fics

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morganaofcamelot · 3 years

Text

If Wishes Came True (Chapter 4)

Title: If Wishes Came True Chapter IV: Killer on the Loose Pt.II

Fandom: BBC Robin Hood

Ships: Guy of Gisborne/Original Female Character, Guy of Gisborne/Marian of Knighton, Original Female Character/Original Male Character

Definately an AU - Sir Guy of Gisborne has served the current Sheriff of Nottingham for five years prior to the beginning of the first season, and is considered a part of the family, both by Vaisey and his daughter Valerie. The chapters are from Val’s POV, as she struggles to maintain her youthful innocence in a place that’s all too willing to steal it away from her, and navigate the intrigues of her father. [Many changes from the show, although the fic loosely follows season 1]

Important Note: English is not my first language, so I’d appreciate if you can point out any mistakes I make.

On AO3

Tumblr: Ch I, Ch II, Ch III

Valerie had never seen the guards being so agitated; they ran from corner to corner, checking even the cracks on the walls. That a stone cold killer was hiding in their midst unnerved her; Lady Marian’s stay was also suspicious – Sir Edward was forced into an early retirement, in favor of Vaisey of Nottingham. Maybe her grievances were extended to her person, as well.

The situation laid heavily on Valerie’s soul – on the one hand, she was afraid of the elusive killer who had escaped her father’s justice. On the other, Valerie had made the decision to keep a close watch of Marian. What better way to do that, than to ask for the pleasure of her company in this dire time?

Lady Marian had agreed, and so the two women strolled about with two handpicked guards to protect them should the need arise.

“Your father believes it is Robin Hood is responsible for yesterday’s attack?” Lady Marian asked. Valerie contemplated her answer; the spring air carried the scent of flowers in bloom, and the sunshine felt warm on her face. It was easy to get distracted in such a rare spring morning. Lady Marian seemed to have little patience for it, though. “Lady Valerie,” she said tartly. “Are you not listening?”

Valerie clicked her tongue. “I heard you,” she quipped. “I have thought it over, and again in my head. That Robin Hood is the assaulter, is about the only thing that makes sense.”

Marian was not completely satisfied with her companion’s answer. “Yes, but why? What is it that makes you think he is the culprit?” She pressed.

“Well, I have seen the murderous look in his eyes myself, when he aimed an arrow to my father’s heart.” Valerie offered. “Furthermore, the use of bow and arrow rather gives up his identity. And he knows how to move around this castle unseen. As I said, it makes sense.”

Lady Marian shook her head in disbelief. Why are you so keen on discrediting the facts? Then, Valerie braved a question she wouldn’t otherwise dare to ask.

“You were once betrothed to the man, isn’t that right?”

The older woman paled and Valerie wondered why. It wasn’t a secret, and if it was, it was a poorly kept one. “I-I…Yes. It was a long time ago, and we broke off the engagement when he went to war.”

The younger one lowered her head. “Did you not believe that he would come back?” she asked in a low voice. Her thoughts strayed to Sir Guy, her brother in all but blood. Had she never worried about his well-being while he was off doing her father’s bidding? Had she not cried in the privacy of her bedchamber, when days had gone by and no news of him had reached them?

Valerie had done all these things and more for a man who wasn’t even promised to her. She remembered how her heart ached, making it impossible to sleep. When she was younger, she had told herself that she felt this way because Sir Guy was the closest thing to a brother, and a friend. As of lately, she had found herself to be mistaken.

It was Marian’s voice that brought her back the solid earth and the grim present. “I guess I did not want a man that would choose war over me, and he thought it his duty to release me.”

Yes, Valerie thought. I can understand that.

“May I ask you a question, Lady Valerie?”

She nodded. “Your lord father, he is not particularly fond of women. I have heard him speak with less than favorable terms of them. But what about your mother?” Marian’s inquiry took Valerie by surprise. It was an attempt to change the painful subject of being discarded in favor of warmongering.

“Oh, he loved my mother, there is no question about it. He often told me that the only other woman he would give his heart to would be I. He kept true to his word, even as the fancy ladies lined up, seeking his approval.” Valerie recalled with a smile on her face. A strange time, it was, when her father was first proclaimed a sheriff. He had barely spared them a look.

“What happened to her?” Marian asked with genuine interest. She has lost her mother, too. Valerie reminded herself.

This was an old, painful memory Valerie tried to conjure. She was burning with fever at the time, and she was really young. She only remembers her mother’s coughs, and the blood that trickled from her mouth.

“She suffered a very bad case of consumption,” Valerie started. “I was four or five, at the time and suffering from this malady myself, although my bout was much milder. She died a few weeks after, while I was still bedridden, but well on the road of recovery.”

Marian offered her sympathies. “I never got to know my mother,” she said, sadness heavily laced in her voice. “She died from childbed fever.

“I am very sorry,” Valerie offered, patting Marian’s back. Marian’s answer was a smile. “Shall we start back? Lunch will be served soon.”

“Yes,” Marian said. “I am very hungry.” A giggle escaped her, and Valerie mimicked her, musing on her feelings about this very strange woman. She has charm in abundance, Valerie’s mind supplied. No wonder Guy is so taken with her.

They made their way to the castle courtyard, their hands adjoint, their spirits a little lighter. It all changed when they neared the steps.

The familiar woosh of an arrow flying was heard. A grunt of pain from behind them; one of the guards had been shot straight at the neck, the wooden shaft protruding. Valerie saw him gurgle on his own blood, and turned her head away. She did not like the sight of blood. Their other guard drew his sword, but he was rendered useless when another arrow hit him on his sword arm. He screamed in pain and dropped his sword.

“Go!” Valerie shouted to Marian, grabbing the sword of the dead guard. “Now,” and the women raced up their stairs, holding their skirts. “We should split,” Valerie suggested. “I’ll go this way.” Without waiting for a response, she ran. She just hoped Marian would know to hide, since she isn’t the killer, apparently.

The sight of a guard a few paces away was a welcoming sight. “Guard!” She shouted with all the authority her status gave her – she was after all, the lady of this castle. “Raise the alarm. Hood is here!” She was frantically panting, her breath winded from all the running, and her chest burning from the spring dust. She had survived consumption, but long-lasting effects still remained with her.

The guard had not move, instead he just examined her. She was close enough to him by now, her mind slowly settling in. “Are you deaf? I told you to sound th-“

The gleam of steel flashed before her eyes. The guard was raising his sword to her. By instinct, the forgotten blade in her hand was raised to block the violent assault. He seemed surprised, as if he was not expecting her to be able to defend herself. She thanked Guy and his lessons, they might just keep her alive for a few moments longer.

Taken aback as he was, he was also quite determined to kill her. Valerie used the little time she had to correct her stance, to better face the traitor. She hadn’t been taught any offensive moves, but a loyal guard might come to help her. Then, a flurry of attacks hit her one after the other. Most she parried, albeit with much strain, others she blocked, and some slipped by her, despite her best of efforts. Still, there was no sight of help.

She held her sword with two hands now, because her right hand – her sword arm, Guy’s voice supplied – was tired and burning from the exertion. This was not as she had practiced in the abandoned side of the stable with Guy. He had been going easy on her, all this time.

Her breathing was heavy, too heavy. It made her head with swim. Still, she could not give up now. She was Vaisey’s daughter, and if there was one thing her father had taught her was to never give u-

She felt the blunt of the blade hit her straight on the side of her head. She was engulfed in darkness before she hit the ground.

***

When she came around, she was lain on a very uncomfortable kind of bed – too narrow, with no mattress or pillows. Her head ached as if the whole castle had fallen upon her and the buzzing of voices didn’t help.

A grunt escaped, attracting their attention.

Her father’s voice was the first she heard closely to her ear – somebody had come to save her, after all. “Hush, darling, you will be alright. The physician had assured me. Just some cuts and bruises, is all.”

“Father,” she said and opened her eyes. There he was, standing upon her, his hands cradling hers, the concern written all over his face.

Just as her head was relishing the sudden quiet, the thunderous voice of Guy was demanding answers.

“What is going on here? Three people have been killed under your nose!” he demanded. Curious, Valerie raised her head a little – it was Sir Marcus that Guy was raging against.

The master-at-arms was cool in his response. “It is unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?!” Guy was now seething with the eerie quiet menace. “Valerie’s life was in peril and you call that unfortunate? It is incompetent!”

“And what have you achieved, so far?” the other man challenged. “You have discovered a food storage, some layabout outlaws roaming the woods, a few hastily ridden off horses, but Hood is still on the loose.”

“At least I have found something! And I have not endangered the lives of those in this castle”

“Stop it, you couple of women!” Her father hissed. “Be rest assured, Gisborne, that Sir Marcus will be held accountable for this, but not now. This is not the time to fight amongst ourselves.”

Sir Marcus bowed his head and left the room. Sir Guy was offered a goblet of wine from Lady Marian. He silently thanked her and drank it with one long gulp. “Lady Valerie,” he said, approaching the stretcher. “How are you feeling?” His voice was not devoid of emotion, but in her state she could not figure it.

“I-I,” her throat was dry. Realizing this, Sir Guy passed her the water from the table. Her father helped her sit uptight, his touch tender. She took small sips at first, but her thirst was awakened soon. She emptied the goblet. Better, she thought. “Cuts and bruises, Sir Guy.” She said slowly. He exchanged a glance with the sheriff, which Valerie did not miss. “Although I feel like my head has been split in two.”

Her father hastily assured her that everything was alright and that she should rest. The physician had declared her in good health, and that tomorrow morning he would examine her again and then order her to her chambers.

It felt too good to be true. “What about the guard that attacked me?” She asked, remembering his passion in seeing her dead. “Was he an associate of Hood?”

Sir Guy wanted an answer to this, as well, she knew. He had been out with his men chasing the blasted outlaw. “He certainly sympathizes with his cause, but he hasn’t been very forthcoming insofar. I hope that now Gisborne is back, he can make the man talk.”

The black-clad knight nodded in agreement. “On my way, my lord.” He took Valerie’s hand and kissed it in a true gallant fashion. Then he retreated, sparing an apologetic look at Marian.

“Was he truly a guard, my lord, or was he an impostor?” Marian’s question held some suggestion in it.

From the way her father pondered on it before giving his answer, made Valerie believe that none of them had thought of it so far. “Sir Marcus will undoubtedly figure it out – after all, he is the one responsible for every recruit. Him – and the Captain of the Guard.”

So, Valerie concluded, nobody had thought of it, so far. “If he is a corrupt guard, then he should hang, isn’t that right, father?”

He reassured her. “He will hang either way.”

Her head hurt from all the thinking she had to do. If only he’d been a little more forthcoming with information, she wouldn’t strain her mental capacity that much. “Which means that you are keeping him alive, in hopes that he would give you names. Names, like his likeminded peers and so on.”

The sheriff smiled. His daughter was smart, indeed. “Yes, my darling daughter. This is exactly what we’re hoping for.”

She found it in her heart to smile. The left side of her face wasn’t cooperating as much as she’d like to. “But, how would be able to tell whether the people he gives up are genuine peers of his? He could easily name the most loyal to you, in hopes of weakening you and the defense of this castle. He will still hang, but he’ll take a few men with him.”

The shock on their faces was evident. The sheriff recovered quickly, however. Before he made some speech or another, Valerie spoke again.

“Can I have a mirror? There’s something seriously wrong with my face.”

Her father agreed with a grim, tight smile. It didn’t bode well for her, she knew. Lady Marian produced a handheld mirror, gingerly offering it.

Valerie’s fingers felt weak, but she closed them around the hilt all the same. Steadying her breaths, she dared to look at her reflection.

The moment she gasped, her father placed his hands on her back, soothing her. It was a most hideous sight to behold and as soon as her gaze lingered on the large mauve bruise that covered most of the left side, the swelling accompanying it, and the little scar that above her eyebrow, where the sharp edge of the sword had met with her head, a stream of tears fell down her face. Lady Marian quickly took the mirror off her hand and her father embraced her.

“Hush, my darling,” he was almost pleading. “It will soon pass.”

And to think that Sir Guy had seen her like this…

She wished that she could kill that guard with her bare hands. She wished that he could inflict the same pain upon him. She took solace in the thought that her father would deliver justice on her behalf.

#robin hood bbc #bbc robin hood #guy of gisborne #guy of gisborne x original female character #*mine

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spnfanficpond · 4 years

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January 2020 Pond LiveChat Recap - Writing RPF

We had a great time chatting with Taylor, @impalaimagining! Thank you so much for joining us and sharing your thoughts and experience!

Our topic this month was Writing RPF, and we talked about the legal, moral, and emotional aspects of writing about real people. A rundown of the chat, as well as general Pond news, is below the cut!

We started off the chat with the legal side of things, most of which was covered back when we talked about Monetizing Fan Works back in May. Here are the related links that were brought up:

Wikipedia: Legal issues with fan fiction (The section dealing with RPF is near the bottom under Right of Publicity.) Boiled down, RPF has to deal with a celebrity's Right of Publicity. Famous people have the right to control the commercial use of their name, image, and likeness, sometimes even their broader identity or persona. Most states’ laws on this only apply to uses for commercial gain. So, don't try to get paid directly for RPF, and you're safe.

From NPR: We Stan: Real Person Fan Fiction Comes To Life. This is a fascinating discussion about RPF, the legalities, and how it’s been changing in recent years. This argues that basically since “fiction” is right there in the name, RPF is inherently more legal than regular fan fiction based off of characters. No one is trying to say that the real people involved are actually doing these things, it’s just fiction.

Goodreads Genre: Fan Fiction - Real Person Fiction. When I was researching, this link came up, and I clicked it, not knowing what to expect. Finding that Fan fiction, much less RPF is on Goodreads was surprising to me. (I thought Goodreads was only about books that could be purchased and didn’t touch “unpublished” works, but I guess not?) What I found most interesting was exactly how many of the titles listed on that page are J2-related. There are more J2-related titles than all of the others COMBINED. As a fandom, we rock!

The discussion started with most folks saying they hadn’t considered the legalities of fan fiction, or RPF in particular, when they began writing. Their first concern was just getting the story out of their head and onto the paper. Also, since no one was getting paid for it and it’s so popular, no one questioned the legalities. Also, since it’s fiction, there’s no defamation of character.

@mrswhozeewhatsis (Michelle): Most people know that I generally don’t read RPF, unless it’s an AU. Way way way back, when I first started reading fan fiction, I used to read the occasional RPF. Honestly, before SPN, I never really liked an actor enough to want to know more about them. (I've been burned by some jerk actors in the past.) One of the first RPFs I ever read was from Jared's POV, and it contained a scene where he was on stage at a con, and detailed his thoughts. I forget what the inciting incident was, but suddenly he was thinking, "Great, now they're all thinking about how big my dick is," and it made him spiral. Something about that stuck with me, to the point that I cringe every time I see Jared on stage and anything remotely sexual comes up. That's pretty much what stopped me from reading RPF. I have no problem thinking about how big Sam's dick is, but I can't ponder too much about Jared's dick, or I can't look him in the eye when I see him at cons!!!

Taylor: I definitely think there is a very fine line to be walked when you write RPF, and I generally don't cross into the area of writing from an actor's POV.

Q: Is that how you keep it separate so you don’t stare into their faces at a con during a photo op and think about the smut you wrote about them?

Taylor: It can be hard to keep it separate sometimes but it's actually very easy in the moment of a split second photo op. They move so quickly, I don't genuinely think I have ever had the time to consider the things I've written about them while I was talking to and hugging them!

Q: Anyone else who doesn’t read/write RPF, do you think that the whole not being able to look them in the eye is an internal thing for anyone in your life, or just celebs?

@manawhaat (Mana): For example, I have A. FUCKING. LOT. of sex dreams. With tons of people, celebs and people I know in my real life... and I don't want to say that it's jaded me as far as thinking sexual thoughts about people, but in a way it kind of has. I don't have that moral dilemma of not being able to look Jared in the eye after thinking about his dick. Taylor: I completely agree. I think writing it has made me kind of impervious to it bleeding into my daily life. I see Jared and my heart goes ohmygodwelovehim first and in person, then later when he's not around is when the wowowowbutwhatabouthisdick comes in. Michelle: I don’t think I could write about anyone in a smutty way. Just characters.

Q: I wanted to talk about 'characterization' of rpf. Do other rpf writers out there think of the people as characters and treat them that way, or do you humanize them? Idk if that question makes sense but it's along the same lines of keeping them separate.

@fogsrollingin (Alex): I cast them in other stories when it's rpf. I always write rpf AUs with only a couple exceptions. We know their onscreen mannerisms, so making them astronauts terraforming a new planet with evil aliens on it is like "oh easy". Taylor: Characterization is huge for me. If someone writes an actor outside of the way they portray themselves, it's impossible for me to read. While we don't know these people personally, we know how they act outwardly and in the public eye, and that's enough to get a good idea of the kind of person they would be. Michelle: I have no trouble reading AUs, because it's just another character who happens to look like and have the name of one of my favorite actors. In AUs, they're characters. If they are actors on a show called Supernatural, then it's too humanizing for me. Taylor: See, Michelle, my mind can't separate it to that degree. If I'm reading about someone named Jared who looks like our Jared? It's Jared. AUs give me a lot of trouble, to be honest. Both writing and reading. Alex: I feel like it's no different than if Jared did a scifi movie during his summer break from spn & it's so low budget they just kept his real name for his character name.

Q: Do you feel differently reading ship RPF than reader insert RPF?

Michelle: Most of the RPF stories I read are ships, but I do read some reader inserts, too. It’s not an intentional choice either way. Alex: I don't feel differently about it, rly. I know I prefer reading ships over reader insert but that's just my personal jam. Mana: I have a hard time reading ship rpf mainly because I like the versions of my ships that I've built in my head, so when someone deviates from that it is a little turn off for me. Like, your version of Cockles is not the same as my version, which is totally fine, you do you, but it isn't gonna tickle me the same way ya know. so when I get into like non-mainstream ships it's extra difficult to find writers who represent them in the 'right' ways. Taylor: I feel that way about pretty much everything I read, and I think that has a lot to do with the whole characterization piece of it. I know that my idea of and the way I portray Jared or Jensen is probably a million times different than the way other people, including my readers, think of them. I try really hard to make sure the way the actors come across is "right". Mana: I think the one big piece of characterization is kind of using the way they have presented themselves as a moral compass. Obviously they don't present their whole selves so there's always wiggle room and areas where you are free to project your ideas of them into the fic, but that's also the trickiest area and where so many people drop the ball. Taylor: YES. So, so many people take that wiggle room and take it leaps and bounds beyond what is public (fandom) knowledge.

Q: How do you feel about RPFs that support certain theories about the wives being beards and such?

Mana: I try to not write anything that would feel as if I'm slandering anyone, etc. I wouldn't want to write a Jensen x reader fic where Danneel cheats on him and that's how they get together. If I mention it at all I just say that they've peacefully and amicably parted ways. If I don't mention it then they simply don't exist in the timeline. But never anything negative about anyone, especially the wives. @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish (Kaisha): I don't write smut (only read) so I have a very different interpretation on a lot of the things being discussed. I tend to stick with non-AU, sister/daughter!reader insert RPF fics because I don't feel creative enough branch out beyond that. I feel the same as Mana, and I actually won't read fics that are based on the premise that someone cheated for the storyline to work. Alex: I'm okay if ppl deviate far into fantasy realms tho. As long as it's not too support a real life conspiracy theory about the actors, if ppl wanna write it & others like it, all the more power to them. I mean as long as you're like "I killed the wives during the zombie apocalypse in my fic but I love them in real life please don't kill me" I'm like "cool". Taylor: I avoid bashing fics or beard fics. Admittedly I have one where Jensen and Danneel never got married, but they still had a daughter together and Danneel hid the kid from him until her 5th birthday. That doesn't feel like a bash/slander fic to me because I'm not painting anyone as a bad person - things just played out differently.

Q: The person who suggested this topic mentioned “how to write your first RPF.” Any suggestions?

Michelle: Have Mana finish it for you! (The only one I’ve ever written, she had to finish for me!) Alex: My first rpf was a ballerina!Jared & yogi!Misha romcom. It was so goofy! Taylor: I don't know if I can even answer that question. It literally just poured out of me when I started. I took the tiny little idea I had in my head (my daydream, as it was previously and so aptly named), and put it into words and it ended up being a 10 part series. Mana: How to write your first rpf: READ RPF FROM A LOT OF DIFFERENT WRITERS. find what works for you and for the people you're writing about. do a couple of trial runs with shorter fics. you have room to play, but try not to stray too far from what they've presented themselves as in real life. Kaisha: For me, when I wrote my first RPF (which was also my first fic), I was in a mental place where I was watching a lot of con videos and reading a lot of sister/daughter fics. It was more "I need an outlet for how I am feeling right now and I don't have anyone to talk to"...so I talked to the image of the boys I had made in my head from what I saw of them online.

Q: Does character shipping affect the RPFs you read? Like, if your OTP is Destiel, do you mainly only read Cockles?

Kaisha: I will read almost anything that's related to one of the Js, either RPF or SPN. But I don't have strong ship feels one way or another that changes what I read/write for RPF. Taylor: I don't know if character ships have any kind of effect on RPF ships. Because there are a lot more people involved in cons than we see on the show, and cons are my primary source of RPF inspiration. Like, we see Henry, what, twice in the show? But Gil McKinney is a whole other story. He's all over the convention circuit (or at least he used to be) and also all over fandom twitter. It just feels easier for me to write RPF because I see these actors in my real life, interacting with other real people. I have interacted with them, which makes things feel a lot more real than writing about two hot fictional dudes from my TV screen. Alex: I'm definitely up for Sam/Dean as much as I'm up for J2. Oddly tho it's Mishalecki at real life con panels that's gotten me totally happy to write/read Mishalecki.

Q: (From Taylor) The piece of RPF I struggle with the most is bringing events from the actors' real lives into my stories. Writing about Jensen and the brewery, about their kids and stories they tell about them at cons, that's where my already grey area turns even more grey.

Kaisha: I am right there with you Taylor! My fic started as mostly the reader and JJ interacting and then I remember the twins existed, too. And with my new fic I am trying to figure out if the San Jac and FBBC will work in or not. Mana: I'm interested in this, because I don't seem to have that issue or gray area. It just doesn't exist for me and I'd like to hear more about it from you guys. Taylor: It's so hard haha. I have something coming up that deals with Jared being arrested and of course I didn't post it before that whole event went down so now it looks like I'm taking that part of his life and twisting it for my personal fiction needs. Which feels kinda (adult word for "not good"). Kaisha: For me the gray area thing is because I want to write a believable story. A believable story has realistic details and if I am ignoring or overlooking things that my audience knows to be true, I feel it takes them out of the story. Mana: So it's a case of omit it entirely or commit to it entirely? I ask in regards to like FBBC and the kids. Do you feel differently about incorporating those aspects into your fics? would you be more comfortable writing about fbbc than you would the kids? Or does that gray area cover the same on both? Kaisha: The same thing goes for when I beta read something. A detail that I don't remember or agree with will take me out of the story and send me on a research rabbit trail to know if the author is correct with what they said. I want to stay in the story as much as possible and I want that for my readers too. That's probably a good way to differentiate it. If I state in the A/N that J1 only has 1 kid, then I don't have to consider what year the story is occurring in. But if I tell you it's non-AU, well then everything that is happening in our universe should be happening in my story (otherwise, it would be AU, even to the slightest degree). The kids vs. FBBC thing I think could be very personal on which someone feels more comfortable with. I say that because I know ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING about alcohol. Kids on the other hand I get. Taylor: For me it's the same. Just, actual concrete aspects of Jensen's life are harder for me to write about. Because then - again, just for me - that feels like writing from their point of view, which is something I try to avoid.

Q: Do any of you read/write RPF outside of SPN?

Taylor: SPN is my only fandom. Michelle: I tried to read fics from other fandoms, and just couldn’t get into it. I might be getting sucked into The Witcher fandom, though. Haven’t found any Geralt fics that really align with my image of him, though. Alex: There are CW network RPF AUs I read. Taylor: I feel like, as SPN fans, we have a wonderful privilege and incredible pool of writers to choose from when we want to read. I don't know, because like I said SPN is my only fandom, if any other fandom has this level of talent or dedication.

Q: Have you ever read an RPF fic that changed the way you viewed an actor? Or given you a sense of gained insight into their lives?

Michelle: That's actually why I don't read “canon-compliant” RPF, actually. Because then I might think that idea is real, and won't see that it's not, even when proven wrong. Like, maybe Jared actually loves it when we think about how big his dick is? But I can't stop thinking that it embarrasses him and makes him uncomfortable because I read it in that one fic. Kaisha: @crashdevlin has a Jensen x reader series that also heavily features Tom Hiddleston. My view of Tom has forever been changed because of her story! Michelle: My brain is very malleable. Sometimes, I'm so open-minded, my brain falls right out. I have to be careful what I let influence me. Kaisha: It wasn't something that I intended to happen. Crash just wrote a very compelling character and I think my opinion would have been altered no matter who it was that she used as the face. Taylor: I've never read anything that has changed the way I view the actors. I've certainly read things that have given me new ideas about the things they enjoy (bitey and/or rough smut), but nothing that's changed the way they appear in my mind. I think the biggest part of all of this is just remembering that all of this is 100% FICTION and should never be taken as reality in any way, shape, or form.

To close out the chat, Mana requested fic recs! Here are the recs that were mentioned:

Michelle: If you're into serial killer AUs, There's a J2 AU in my AO3 bookmarks that's genius. Adoration. The other RPF bookmark I have is called Beholder. Jared runs an animal shelter, and Jensen is a homeless man with a TBI who gets dumped at the shelter one night.

Alex: My favorite rpf fic is Tails by keep_waking_up. Werefox!Jared & kitsune!Jensen law enforcement murder mystery AU.

Taylor: One of my favorites to read is by @thecleverdame: Modern Technology. (Jared x reader) This is unfinished but it's quickly becoming one of my favorite Jensen-things I've ever written, AND IT'S AN AU!!! Rockabye. Also, there’s You Saved Me (Jared x Reader). And have a J2 x Reader for funsies! Something is Happening

Kaisha: This is my favorite RPF. Underneath verse (series) - J2 - Jensen is the undercover FBI agent sent to take out Jared, the boss of Chicago. #Self-promo, but I am pretty proud of this one, too: Nanny, Sister, Daughter...Family (Jenneel with sorta daughter!reader)

Mana: Here’s the Cockles x Reader fic that Michelle and I wrote: Rumor Has It And, of course, (Jenneel x Reader) Fools In Love.

Feel free to reblog with your favorite RPF fics!!

Also, the February LiveChat info is still TBD. Feel free to send in your topic ideas and suggest guest speakers!!

General Pond Updates and Reminders

What we’ve got cooking up next: Not much, at the moment, since everyone is busy, so we’re just trying to keep up with the day-to-day at the moment! Our to do list is still long, though, and will not be neglected forever! Next up is organizing the tagging system on the blog to make it easier for readers to find the stories they’re interesting in and for writers to find the help they’re looking for!

Reminders:

Angel Fish Award nominations are accepted all month long! No need to wait to tell us how much you liked a fellow Fish’s work! IF YOU HAVE SENT IN A NOMINATION, BUT HAVE NOT RECEIVED A PRIVATE MESSAGE CONFIRMING WE RECEIVED IT, WE DIDN’T GET IT. Be sure to use Submit instead of Ask!

Don’t forget to submit your stories to be posted to the blog! When your stories are on the blog, then they are easier to nominate for Angel Fish Awards!

Say hi to December’s New Members and January’s New Members! (If we missed someone, let us know!)

Check the Pond CALENDAR to see when Big Fish will be in the Skype chat room/discord general channel and other Pond and SPN events are happening! Know of something that’s not on the calendar, send us an ask or submission with the deets info details! The calendar offers a lot of features, such as showing you when things are in your own timezone! Since we’re an international group, that’s a definite plus!!

We’re getting lots of requests for more Big Fish, lately, but so far, only one applicant! If you know someone you think would be a good Big Fish, tell them to apply!!

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teruteruki · 5 years

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MP100 Analysis: Teru’s Sexuality

(Honestly, “Teru’s Sexuality” isn’t what I really wanted to title this, but it was the simplest one I could think of. This analysis mostly focus on Teruki’s feelings for Kageyama and his gay coding. So I guess the extended title would be “MP100 Analysis: Teruki’s Romantic Orientation and His Feelings Towards Mob,” but that one doesn’t roll off the tongue as well.)

Okay, well, it took me a week to prepare for this, but here it is! I apologize for the long wait. Here are some ground rules:

1. I will only be using manga pictures. I am aware of the official art and the anime adding extra scenes. However, the canoncity (canonness?) of such material could be debated since it’s not the source material, but instead derived from it. I don’t want to face debates on me using faulty evidence.

2. Since I am using the manga, there will be HEAVY manga spoilers. Not slight such as “oh, Teru oogles Mob during this arc,” but MAJOR things such as screencaps of the last few arcs. If you’re okay with that, then good! But if you haven’t read the manga, I highly suggest you do that first. (AND that you read it from the beginning!)

3. While I am doing this because I personally believe Teru is gay, please do not take this post as fact/canon. I don’t want this to cause any drama in the fandom. It’s all for fun after all! And on that note, I don’t mind seeing everyone else’s takes on this.

4. As I was writing this I realized that I used “Kageyama” instead of “Mob.” So just to specify: “Kageyama” only refers to Shigeo. “Ritsu” is, well, Ritsu.

With that out of the way, the analysis is under the cut!

I’m planning to cover all aspects of why I believe Teru is gay. For that reason, I’ll be splitting things up into sections. (Otherwise, it’d just be one big jumble of words.) First section

Attachment.

After Teru’s first defeat, we can clearly see that he’s fixated on Kageyama. Which...in itself is peculiar. He loses a fight to some amazing psychic, has a fever for 3 days, and yet is immediately able to look past it? Hmm...

He has almost immediately adopted Kageyama’s ideals and is even trying to act on them. As soon as he sees Ritsu, he steps in and tries to change the other’s mindset. Just like Kageyama did for him.

There’s also the image of the shining light in the dark. I believe this is a metaphor for Kageyama. It’s clear that Teruki holds him to higher expectations than, really, anyone else, and would definitely see him as a “light,” so to say. This especially works considering Teruki’s speech about “being the light vs being in the light” from when we first met him.

This is a good display of Teruki is already fixated on Kageyama despite not seeing him again.

Then, there is the Ritsu kidnapping arc.

Teruki tries to come along when Kageyama is planning to save his brother. You could argue that it’s only because Kageyama didn’t have a plan ready, but that begs the question as to why Teru should care so much. He has met Ritsu once and said interaction wasn’t exactly under good intentions. This is simply Teru taking an interest in the things Kageyama cares about.

However, there is also his “explanation” for coming along.

But we all know that Teru doesn’t need Kageyama’s help to defeat a group of Claw members. He did it before when he was younger and less experienced. What would stop him from doing it now?

There is also the fact that after Dimple pointed out that Teruki’s help wasn’t much, Teru then went out of his way to refuse financial support among other things. He wanted to do this with Kageyama alone. That’s something that, easily, could be interpreted as an attempt to impress the other.

Teruki has also gone out of his way to track down/talk to Kageyama several times.

The first time there was a viable excuse - he needed to talk to Kageyama about the “fake White T Poison.” However, the other two times he simply wanted to be around Kageyama.

(During this scene, Kageyama was going out shopping. Nothing exactly was wrong, Teru just decided to talk to him.)

(At this time, Teru seemed to simply pick Kageyama out from a crowd again, and partly because the boy was upset. Which - if not due to Teru’s “need” to be close to Kageyama - is due to another point I have.)

Protectiveness

Teru is needlessly protective of Kageyama. Both physically and emotionally.

When Kageyama was panicking over Ritsu’s kidnapping, Teruki didn’t just let him go. But why? Kageyama is one of the strongest psychics he knows. He could most definitely just take down claw with the amount of power he has. Surely the “structure” doesn’t matter.

He also goes out of his way to stick to what Kageyama wants, and even Dimple says that it’s thoughtful. And as we all know, Teru is great at plans and strategy. If he wanted to, he could devise a plan on his own. The only reasons for him letting Kageyama takeover is to: make him happy, see more of his talent, and to make sure Teru sticks to his ideals.

It also speaks to how much Teruki has changed from the beginning. He used to insist that he was the main character, and now here he is, following behind instead of taking the lead. Amazing how just one guy could change him so much.

Teruki continues to take Kageyama’s feelings into account during the entire kidnapping arc. He does it to the point where it slightly inhibits their chances of escape.

Having three psychics to take on the Claw members would help tremendously, but immediately after seeing Kageyama’s worried expression, he backtracks and says they can fight without Ritsu.

And then, after seeing Kageyama unconscious, he starts to panic.

Part of this panic can be explained by Teruki’s shock. He sees Kageyama as some impossible opponent, so the assumption that a Claw member was able to defeat him is possibly earth-shattering. However, that doesn’t exactly explain the clear, genuine relief Teru shows when Kageyama wakes up.

Part of it must be his protectiveness.

Then, during the World Domination arc, Teru actually pleads for Kageyama to turn out alright.

And lastly, during the Final arc, he outright says that he can and will protect Kageyama. (Not to mention that this was after an attempt to comfort Kageyama, because Teru knew something was wrong.)

At the very least, it’s easy to see that Teru cares about Kageyama.

Reactions

A weird subtitle, I know, but I’m referring to how Teruki reacts differently to things concerning Kageyama than to anything else. A good example of this is when Ritsu started to cry. Teru didn’t react at all. He was uninterested, really.

But earlier, when Ritsu and Kageyama were reconciling, he looked blatantly happy.

Same for when Kageyama first woke up. (Posted earlier.)

There was a similar occurrence when they first infiltrated Claw, as well. Teruki was distracted with staring at Kageyama and didn’t notice an enemy until the guy was only a few feet behind him.

And then there’s the time Kageyama mentioned he was getting popular. Teruki’s reaction is vastly different from Ritsu’s.

Ritsu straight up cries tears of joy. He’s happy that his brother is finally getting the recognition he deserves.

But Teruki visibly stops. You could claim it’s because he knows Kageyama isn’t actually popular, but there’s no way to be sure. He hasn’t seen what Kageyama’s school life is like, so he wouldn’t know if girls are actually staring or not. If anything, he believes what Kageyama is saying and seems slighty disappointed.

(He then proceeds to say Kageyama is handsome. Do I even need to touch on that?)

And then we head into the Divine Tree arc. Ironically, I think Teruki’s true feelings shine the most while he’s under hypnosis.

Right off the bat, we know its Teruki’s true feelings because Dimple tells us so. And Dimple has no reason to lie. That’s what this arc is about - 100% truth.

The wording here is something that sticks out. Their relationship, not friendship, not rivalry. In Teru’s eyes, their relationship is either doesn’t fit those labels or is more complicated than that. This makes perfect sense under the premise that Teruki has romantic feelings for Kageyama.

And then, as the arc continues, Teruki keeps putting Kageyama before the Divine Tree.

The focus of the hypnosis is that everyone will put the Divine Tree first. The Tree is supposed to be important enough to them that, apparently, if Kageyama agreed to be the co-founder, it would instantly give him Tsubomi’s love. And yet here we can see that even though Teru is actively fighting over it, the Tree is still an afterthought when he’s talking.

And when Teru is blasted away, we once again see that Kageyama is his priority.

Not even hypnosis could stop his strong feelings.

(And at this time I’d like to say that yes, Dimple said Teru felt respect, but there’s no way to be certain about that. The only one that knows what he felt at that time is himself.)

And finally, the notorious panel set during the epilogue.

Everyone else is seen actively engaging and teasing Kageyama about his crush, but Teruki avoids the conversation. And there is, honestly, no other explanation that makes sense besides Teruki harboring some negative feelings towards the whole Kageyama-Tsubomi circumstance. (We all know it doesn’t take that long to sip some tea.)

Heteronormativity

This section won’t be as screenshot heavy as the other few. That’s partly because this was a section I thought of while writing this post and also because, well, the only screenshots I’d have would be of Teruki before his change in character. (I would also like to give credit to @terumobwiki. His post gave me a good idea of what to write for this section, and without it, I may have left this part out.)

Before meeting Kageyama, Teruki was living the stereotypical “dream life.” He had a girlfriend, was popular in school, great at sports, etc etc. But we clearly see in his flashback (at least, in the manga) that he isn’t actually happy with all this. When he’s being congratulated on his perfect scores, he looks bored or possibly even depressed. A perfect life isn’t what he actually wants. He was just forcing himself to enjoy it.

And then, after Kageyama comes into his life, Teruki isn’t mentioned to have a girlfriend ever again. Which is definitely interesting, considering we blatantly see that he still has fangirls and gets confessions often. It’s clear throughout the show that he still struggles with pride, too, and yet this other key factor of his past self isn’t there. And, unsurprisingly, he seems to be way happier without a girlfriend.

Conclusion: Teruki is gay and has romantic feelings for Kageyama. The evidence is in all the previously mentioned points. And yes, other characters close to Kageyama have some of these traits, but not all four. For example, Ritsu is protective of Kageyama, but he doesn’t go out of his way to stick by his brother, nor does he change his morals to fit the other’s.

And if you don’t think this is what a crush is like, think back to the last one you had. Did you not wish to spend more time with that person? Did you not want to show off in front of them, or instead, wanted to watch them more closely? Did you not react differently around them than compared to others?

Case in point.

#URGH this took forever but hey im finally done!!!!#now i can fuckign uhhhhh relax #for maybe 5 minutes before i dive into writing my claw!teru au lol #post #analysis #terumob #mp100 #mob psycho 100

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silvana-fangirls · 5 years

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Good Mourning [KogKag]

Fandom:

InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale

Relationships:

Higurashi Kagome/Kouga

SUMMARY: After they destroyed Naraku and Kagome wished for the Shikon no Tama to disappear, it not only took the sorrow, pain and loss with it. But something Kagome thought was genuinely hers.

Chapter 1

(PLEASE READ NOTES AT THE END)

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They told me once, "There's a place where love conquers all" A city with the streets full of milk and honey I haven't found it yet, but I'm still searching

- 'Good Mourning' Halsey.

Kagome’s chocolate eyes snapped open to be greeted by the well-known ceiling of the hut she’s been living in for the past three years.

Considering the situation, she probably should be waking up altered, dripping in sweat or maybe with her vision blurred by the tears.

But she didn’t, she was used to it by now. It’s been the same for the past three years. The exact same dream. Everyday.

It was over, finally over.

The spider was gone. Death was gone and so was the pain and the blood. Naraku was dead.

It usually started with relief.

Kagome got out of the futon, not even feeling the need to stretch or rub her tired eyes. They have been tired for long now, rubbing them won’t help.

She wished for the damned jewel to be gone. She had a lot to thank it for, yet the destruction it caused was far much worse than the good the gemstone did. She wanted nothing more than to get rid of damned thing.

Quietly, as most things she did, she made her side of the futon resting in the back of the small hut she supposed she should call home, dusting it off while not even sparing a glance at the unused side of it.

And suddenly, the Shikon no Tama was no more. It was gone.

Part of her had a hard time believing it. After all, everything about this time had something to do with it. She had to blink a few times to actually feel how the weight of its existence was suddenly leaving this world, this reality, for good.

She dusted off her usual miko uniform. Making once again, her daily wish to have something else to wear. Something that didn’t remind her so much of what the world was forcing her to be.

But, the jewel didn’t just leave taking all the innocent souls it claimed in the past, the sacrifices and spilled blood with it.

Kagome didn’t know how the ‘selection’ worked, but some of the victims came back. Not many, just enough for someone to count with their fingers.

Kagome walked out of her hut, sunlight greeting her as soon as she set a foot outside.

She came back, but it didn’t matter. Kagome didn’t know why, but it just didn’t. Back in the day, she thought that her lack of worry about the dead priestess return was due to the fact that she was sure that InuYasha had made up his mind already. That he chose her, not Kikyō. That he loved her, and not Kikyō.

A few children were already running around the village, laughter surrounding them as they played.

“Good morning, Lady Kagome!” Several of them greeted.

“Good morning, kids” She greeted back with a smile she supposed didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Thought, her lack of care was because Jewel also took something else when it left this world, not just the sorrow and pain.

That part of soul that wasn’t even hers to begin with also left her body that day. Detaching everything forgein from everything Kagome. Including feelings she believed were genuinely hers, but truly weren’t.

She didn’t notice anything at first.

She silently walked to the stream that flowed just a few meters behind the hut. The sound of running water always relaxed her. It filled the dull silence that was constantly surrounding her.

Silence brought sorrow, and while the soft sound of the stream couldn’t get her completely away from her thoughts, it prevented them from getting worse... so she welcomed it.

She remembers feeling such relief that it was making her tear up. Her face felt like it could split in two from the big smile on her face. Her friends felt the same.

Everything was over. The time for being nothing but happy had finally arrived.

Or so she thought?

“Kagome...” she felt a light yet electrifying touch on her right shoulder “Can we talk?”

Kagome snapped shut her eyes so tightly, desperately trying to get those icy blue eyes out of her mind. It was too early for her ghost to be clouding her mind already. Yet again, no matter what, he always haunted her.

That handsome wolf-demon ghost. It was her life companion by now.

Part of her despised it, part of her loved it.

“Kagome!” A well-known voice said behind her.

Kagome splashed a bit of water on her face, and turned to her friend with her typical small, empty smile that has also become a part of her daily uniform.

“Morning, Sango” She said, drying her hands off on her clothing.

“Morning” Sango said as she caught up to her where she was standing. “I was waiting for you to join us on breakfast” Sango added, same cloud of worry in her eyes, as always.

Breakfast together... or more like, every meal together. That’s also something that turned out to be one of the many routines in Kagome’s life.

Sango and Miroku had made it a goal of them to have Kagome eat with them every time, in hopes for her to feel ‘less lonely’... they didn’t tell her that of course. They just masked their obvious concerns about her with excuses like that.

Kagome appreciates their effort, but ... She didn’t want to escape loneliness in the first place.

Kagome nodded at Sango with a smile. “I was just washing myself before joining you” She explained, making Sango smile in relief.

As they made their way to Kaede’s hut, where they usually had their meals, Kagome glanced at the Eastern Mountains, barely visible from the village, sending her daily and silent good morning.

“Good morning, Lady Kagome” Miroku greeted, already sitting on his usual place, waiting for breakfast while Lady Kaede continued to stir the breakfast stew. “Did you sleep well?”

Kagome smiled at his usual every day question, already making her way to her usual spot.

“I did, Miroku, thank you for asking” Kagome said as she sat down. “Morning, Lady Kaede”

“Good morning, child” The old lady greeted with a smile.

Kagome observed as Sango sat down right besides Miroku, gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek to then pull closer the make-shift nursery that currently carried their new-born daughter.

It’s been barely a month since little Aimi joined them. Sango and Miroku tried really hard to have a baby ever since they got married, that was about four months after defeating Naraku. Anyone would expect them to have five kids by now, but it wasn’t the case. Sango wasn’t as fertile as everyone hoped her to be, but she never gave up and after years of trying, Aimi was the little blessing that came to their world.

Kagome couldn’t help but look at Sango’s little but loving family with yearning. It made it even worse that Shippo decided to join a group of young kitsunes about a year ago… Kagome missed him a lot.

“Will InuYasha join us for breakfast, child? He’s taking his time” Kaede said, and Kagome could feel everyone flinch.

She silently wondered why they were still flinching at it, considering the fact that Kaede made the exact same question a couple of times a week. Much to her sadness, Lady Kaede started to show symptoms of Alzheimer a few months ago. She was nearing her seventies now and even if people’s life range was way higher in this era, age was catching up to her and fast. No one understood what was going on at first. The first time Lady Kaede askedthat question, Sango was so bewildered and angered by it she nearly started to scream at her in Kagome’s defense, considering it was a cruel and malicious question to make.

It took her a few days to realize what was happening, but the pieces finally fell on place in front of Kagome. Lady Kaede was sick.

She explained that to Sango and Miroku, that had a hard time understanding this ‘sickness’ and asked them to be gentle with their old friend.

“I don’t think so, Lady Kaede” Kagome answered, her smile intact.

It was the truth.

“Why not? He usually joins us even if he pretends he doesn’t like it” Kaede said again, now passing through bowls of stew to each of them.

‘He used to... two and a half years ago’

“This smells delicious, Lady Kaede” Sango said, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, delicious indeed” Miroku added.

“I can save him some stew if you want, Lady Kaede” Kagome said reassuringly. Lady Kaede nodded at her with a small smile.

“Is anything in for today? Do you need help with anything, Lady Kaede?” Miroku asked.

“Don’t worry yourself, monk. Just the usual” Kaede said while sipping some of her stew. “Ever since Naraku died nothing really happens. So just a few prayers with the villagers for today. Kagome and I will take care of some few ill villagers and if Sango doesn’t mind, someone looking after the young will be useful as well”

“Of course, Lady Kaede” Sango said and Miroku nodded in agreement.

If Kagome was perfectly honest, she never showed any desires to be a doctor. Not in her modern time, and also not here. Sure, she was usually the one patching the wounds of her friends back when they hunted for jewel shards, because she wanted to contribute to the team and feel useful, there was little to nothing she could do back in the day, when she still didn’t have much control over her powers... and while helping others brought some joy to her life, she rather do it in any other way. But, it was her ‘destiny’. She was a priestess reincarnation, reincarnation of one of the most powerful ones at that, so she was to be a priestess.

“Do we have a flu growth, Lady Kaede?” Kagome asked, and Kaede made the same face she always made when Kagome used some of her modern terms.

“Just a few Autumn symptoms” Kaede simply said. “Spring is about to be over and it looks like we have a cold winter ahead of us. The change of weather is already affecting some of us. We should also start stocking herbs from now on, make sure we don’t miss anything during winter” Kaede said having Kagome a pointed look.

“Sure thing” She said at the task, trying not to groan in annoyance.

At least she’ll have something to distract her from the ghost of icy blue eyes.

Kagome spent most of the day tending allergy symptoms and stocking medicinal herbs. It was almost 3 p.m judging by the sun position and the shadows when Kaede finally set her ‘free’ for the day. So, she decided to trade some of her medicinal self made concoctions for some fabric, to try and attempt to make something else to wear other than the priestess outfit.

Her back was facing the hut’s entrance when someone came in.

“Hey” A familiar voice called to her. Familiar, yet so different from what it once sounded like.

Was it his voice that changed, or was it her?

“Hey” She simple replied, not even turning to look at him. “You missed breakfast... and lunch. There’re some leftovers near the fire” She pointed out, eyes still not looking looking at him, just focusing on her stitching.

“Sorry, I was... patrolling last night, just in case there’s any demons around, ya know?” He poorly excused.

‘“Demons around” yeah, right’ Kagome thought. There has been no ‘demons around’ since Naraku died, asides from pretty young, foolish and lame demons that were still too young to know anything. Because, what demon in their right mind would ever dare to disturb the village of the people that destroyed the evilest demon to ever live? Or any nearby village for the matter?

“It’s fine” Kagome just replied. She didn’t care. She didn’t care he‘s been out almost all day and all night for about two and a half years now. In fact, it was a relief. She couldn’t even look at him. Seeing his face just brought so much anger to the surface, so much impotence.

She’d rather not see him at all.

“... Okay” InuYasha said. “Does Kaede needs any help around here?”

“No” Kagome replied way too fast. She just wanted this conversation to be over. “We’re all done for the day, so don’t worry”

“Right” InuYasha said awkwardly “Do you need help with anything?”

She resisted the urge to groan.

It was unfair to blame him. Because at the end of the day, he’d been fooled as much as she was. It wasn’t his fault, at all. But she couldn’t help but resent him.

“No” She said, getting up and placing her unfinished work in one of the makeshift tables she made, in one of her several desperate attempts to make this hut resemble something like the place that was actually her home. “I’m gonna go by the Goshinboku” She said, finally looking at him.

She always gave him a warning whenever she was going to visit the sacred tree. She didn’t want any unpleasant encounters in the forest... and she was sure that InuYasha didn’t want that either.

“Okay” He replied, already fidgety in urges to get out of the hut. “I’ll be pratrolling tonight again, so...”

“It’s fine” Kagome cut him off, finally making her way out of the hut and towards the forest.

After minutes of walking on her own, she finally stood in front of the sacred tree. A tree that brought her equals amounts of pain and and equal amounts of happiness.

Three years ago, she’ll look at it thinking that this was a destined place for her. Here’s where she saw InuYasha for the first time. Here’s where she broke his seal and let him free. Here’s were all this journey begun. Here’s where her younger self thought she found the love of her life.

‘Love of a life, just not mine’

She kind of despised it now. This tree deceived her. It was one of the many things that did. Deceived her into believing something that was certainly not hers.

But it brought her happiness, too. This tree was the only connection to her family now. The family that was 500 years in the future away from here. The time she’s been locked out of. The true home she’s been locked out of.

Kagome went down on her knees, positioning herself an arms length away from the sacred tree, looking down at a spot of brown soil in the middle of all the rich green grass.

She started digging in, hands and nails getting dirt all over, until her fingers made contact with something solid. Dusting off some soil that was over it, she began removing a wooden box out of the ground.

She opened the box carefully, making sure no dirt got inside of it, and pulled out a little paper scroll out of her clothing, to then put it inside the box. Then, she closed the box and proceeded to bury it back in the same place.

She didn’t even know if they were getting them... all these letters. They could easily miss them but it was the only way she thought of communicating with her family... or at leastsort of. After all, it was a one way street.

Ever since figuring it out, she needed so desperately to talk to her mom, to feel her comfort, to hear her say everything will be okay. To hear her say that she didn’t deserve this, she didn’t deserve being so brutally used. That it wasn’t fair, but she’ll be okay anyways. She couldn’t talk to anyone here. As much of a good friend Sango was, Kagome didn’t feel ready to talk her about this. Maybe she’ll never be ready.

So, after so much time of thinking about a solution to find some kind of hope to just let her mother know she was okay, to let her know what was going on around her, to let her now she was alive, and that she didn’t left them hanging, that she so desperately wanted to return to her home... She finally came up with this.

She engraved her name right in the center of the Goshinboku, where InuYasha was once sealed, and found a box to bury in and protect letters that she hoped her mom would read. After all, the sacred tree was still very much alive in her time.

She only hoped her mom would see her name engraved on it, and discover the letters of long lost daughter that were bury beneath it.

She could only pray for it.

The box was already filled with tons of little scrolls by now, since she wrote her mother once a week. At first she had a lot to tell her, but now it was almost all the same. She wrote to her anyways, after all it was the one thing that brought her comfort in this place where she didn’t belong.

“Sure, Kouga... What is it?”

She closed her eyes tightly again.

“Stop it, Kagome” She whispered to herself. She thought she should’ve more control about her own thoughts by now, having it been three years and all. But everything regarding what haunted her daily remained like the very first day when she figured it all out.

She figured this was some sort of karma... of punishment. Punishment for not listening to him back then. Punishment for dismissing him so rudely without even considering thinking about what he said.

While she blamed the world for this, or whatever Kami was up there... She blamed herself equally.

“I need to ask you something... and you gotta be honest with me”

Kagome stood up abruptly from where she was kneeling.

She needed to get back to the village. Back to the distraction, back to where she could partially escape from her daily, unbearable torture.

With hurried steps, and while mentally describing in detail everything she was seeing in order to push her thoughts away, she finally made it to the very center of the village.

It wasn’t even a minute before the first villager approached her to lay his concerns on her. This was the way it was. Part of Kagome always screaming for her to find a more secluded space so people won’t ask for her to fix their own issues, and the other part begging for any kind of distraction. Dealing with other people’s mundane problems helped with that, even when she wanted to run far away, memories where far more painful that dealing with chores she didn’t want to.

It was nearly 6:30 p.m. when she was finally done. People where already making dinner for themselves and getting ready to dose off for the day so they didn’t need her anymore. And while she wanted to escape from her past for most of the day, she always went back to it around this time... when she sat down at the entrance of her hut, looking at the orange and pink hues in the sky, as the sunset washed the Eastern Mountains.

She had to say ‘Good Night’, always. Because when the dark night sky hid the mountains away from her view, she felt even more alone in this world than she normally felt. ‘Good Night’ meant ‘See you tomorrow’, and tomorrow meant hope. Hope for it to get better. Hope for him to come back to her.

She had to say ‘Good Night’ because if she said nothing it’ll mean ‘Goodbye’ and she couldn’t, for the life of her, say goodbye to him. It’ll destroy her. It’ll turn her into what once Kikyō was: a walking corpse. Not entirely dead, not entirely alive.

“Here you are” Sango’s voice quietly said, as she sat down besides her, eyeing the Eastern Mountains as well.

Kagome allowed herself to smile slightly at her friend’s comment.

“I’m always here around this time” She said just as quietly. “You already know that”

Sango turned to look at her, and while Kagome’s eyes where set and unmoving from the Eastern Mountains, she could feel the concern they held.

“Kagome, can we please talk?” Sango said, pleading.

“What about?” Kagome’s small smile remained intact.

“I thought... I thought you trusted me” Sango said, voice almost cracking. It was only then when Kagome turned to her friend. She meant well, and Kagome loved her dearly. Hurting her was the last thing she wanted.

“I do trust you, Sango. There’s just nothing to talk about” She tried to reassure her, placing her hand on hers.

Sango eyed her hand on hers, and her eyes meet Kagome’s once more, looking even more hurt than before.

“You know...” She started. “It might’ve took me about three years... but I figured it out” Kagome’s only reaction was to slightly drop her smile. “How your eyes look so sad all the time, how you always try to make this place look at least a little like your old home, how you don’t get jealous about them anymore...” Sango cited. “And how you always come here around the same time... to look at the Eastern Mountains” Kagome said nothing “It reminds me of that day? You know?” Sango said, taking a deep breath to get ready for what she was about to say. “When he said that your feelings for InuYasha-“

“Stop” Kagome interrupted her abruptly. Tears already stinging her eyes.

It was the first time, the first time in years that someone else talked about him. About that day. About that conversation.

It was too much.

Sango’s eyes filled with pity once she confirmed her suspicions to be true. Part of her couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe this was the reason of her best friend’s despair.

“Oh, Kagome” She said, now her hand holding hers. Tears almost stinging we eyes as well. “What happened? Why haven’t you told me?”

“He was right, Sango” Kagome nearly sobbed. “He was right about it all”

The tears couldn’t be stopped now. Tears that she held for so long... as her mind cruelly replayed that day. The day she would take back and do over if she was given the possibility.

“Of course, Kouga. You know I’m always honest with you” Kagome said, moving her hand to rest it over his chest plate in assurance.

She always found herself drawn to touch him, from the very first day they met.

Sango once told that wolf demons were very physical. They were brute with words, so they resorted to touch a lot to express their feelings better. Reason why Kouga was always touching Kagome even in the more subtle ways.

Was that the reason why she always responded to his touch? Or why she felt drawn to touch him to? To help him understand better? To communicate better with him?

Kouga nodded once, and gently grabbing her by the hand, he guided her to a more secluded space. A safe distance from InuYasha’s hanyou’s ears, to be more specific. InuYasha, who was currently reuniting with the resurrected priestess.

For some reason, Kagome didn’t feel the common surge of jealousy... but it was because InuYasha already chose her. Not Kikyō.

“This might be a bit difficult for you to understand” He started, and he looked really nervous. Something that Kouga was not.

It made her worry. They’ve just won. Some innocent people were brought back. Naraku was dead... so why was he looking like he was about to deliver some gruesome news?

“But you have to listen to what I’ve to say, and you gotta be honest, okay?” He said again, almost pleading her.

“What is it, Kouga? You’re starting to worry me” She said with a nervous laugh, hoping to ease some of the worry building up in her tummy.

“The jewel is gone, Kagome” Kouga said, icy blue eyes looking straight at hers, telling her that whatever he wanted to say to her was serious.

“... Yeah” She said her voice wavering just the tiniest bit.

In the back of her mind she had a faint idea of what this must be about. The jewel was gone and perhaps Kouga thought she didn’t need to accompany InuYasha anymore... which was always her excuse whenever the ‘You’re my woman so you must be by my side’ conversation came by. Every time Kouga brought it up, she’ll say that since she broke the jewel in the first place, her duty above everything else was to fix it. Only once she told him she was in love with InuYasha, when they first met and never again.

Dread bubbles inside her at what was to come. There were no excuses now. So, if Kouga was to ask her to finally run away with him, there was no other thing to do but reject him... for a real reason this time.

Why was she so afraid? Was she afraid to anger him? Or lose him? ... if she rejected him... they’ll surely remain friends, right? They must.

The sudden possibility of loosing Kouga was already terrifying her.

“And, everything it caused... the pain, the loss... it took it all away, too” Kouga continued.

“Y-Yeah, it brought some of the innocent back, too” Kagome added with a smile trying to keep her trembling voice on bay.

“Yeah... most notoriously certain someone” Kouga added, and it was only then when his eyes briefly left hers to focus on the dead priestess that was still reuniting with InuYasha.

Kagome said nothing to the obvious mention of the now not-dead priestess.

“Kagome...” He said again, eyes returning to hers. “Ever since I fell completely in love with you, I found that there was something just... weird about you”

Kagome was a bit taken aback. What was that supposed to mean? Was it because she came from the future? Kouga already knew that, though... it came up, one day. It was a pain to try and make him understand but he did in the end. Why was he pointing this out, though? She remembers very distinctly that he told her that it didn’t matter to him, they were gonna ‘make it work’ or whatever... she just laughed nervously at him back then.

“...Okay?” She said.

Or maybe he was the one doing the rejection? Was he gonna tell her he didn’t love her anymore? Or that it was all a joke? To piss of InuYasha? Why did that thought made her feel hurt, though?

“And I’m not talking about, you know... where you come from and all that” He cleared up.

That was a relief... but if it wasn’t about that then what was it?

“There was something weird about you” He said, and it made even less sense than before. “About your scent, and your aura...” Kagome visibly flinched a step back at this. Not knowing if it was something bad or not, and scared to figure it out. “About your soul”

Kagome blinked a few times, trying to make sense at whatever he was saying.

“Kouga I-“ She tried to say “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say”

Kouga sighed in an almost exasperated way, but more at himself than her.

“I just-“ He was trying to find the words, she knew that. And in an attempt to make him express himself better, the hand resting on his chest plate traveled to the skin of his arm, hoping the contact would help him find the words he was seeking.

It seemed to help, because once Kouga’s eyes peeked at her small hand resting on his arm, he looked back at her more confidently. “Your scent, Kagome.” He started “I know exactly what it smells like. Lavenders and vanilla, right after the dew. I’d recognize it anywhere. I have it burnt in my memory”

That made her blush, profusely. The hand resting in his arm slipped a bit, now barely touching him.

“Your aura? Feels like the first day of spring. Like the sun in your skin when it’s still cold in the shadows.”

“K-Kouga” She stuttered out, too flustered to continue to touch him.

“And your soul?” Kouga continued, ignoring her obvious state of embarrassment. He continued, looking at her like he could actually see her soul. “It feels like the wind on my face when I run, with the full moon shining over me” He said, and this time it was his hand resting on her arm. “It feels mine”

Kagome was about to explode. Her heart was beating on her hears and her stomach felt like an entire zoo was inside it.

“K-Kouga I..”

“But” He interrupted her “There’s a hint of mint and herbs on your scent, that just doesn’t mix with the rest” She blinked in confusion at this. “Your aura has a hint of the coldest day of winter. When everything is covered under snow” He continued. “And your soul, just the smallest part of it. Feels like a day of pouring rain, when wolf demons hate running”

Kagome was looking at him bewildered. What was he trying to say? That she was perfect BUT had a tinge of ugly in her? That she was amazing BUT in the end not so much?

“Kouga, I don’t get anything you’re saying” she said honestly, and maybe even a little offended.

“What I’m saying, Kagome, is that there’s something that’s definitely not yours about you. Or at least there was”

What the hell.

“That’s making even less sense” She said, a little irritated already.

Kouga was irritated as well, and nervous.

“Kagome, you once told me you were that priestess reincarnation” Kouga said, and Kagome nodded at this getting even more irritated at his words. What the heck does Kikyō has to do with this anyways? “You told me, that you shared her soul”

“What does this has to do with anything?” Kagome asked rather impatiently.

“You didn’t share her soul, Kagome” Kouga said. “Her soul was inside you, and part of it remained once she became undead. But there never was just one soul”

“I still don’t understand what’s your point?” Kagome was loosing her patience.

“When you destroyed the jewel, and she resurrected, she took her soul back. Her entire soul. There’s not a single trace of it on you now”

Kagome took a few seconds to reply, digesting the information she was just given.

“Well that’s a relief! Isn’t it?” She said.

“Of course it is, but... how do you feel now?” Kouga asked, and he had hope in his eyes.

“What kind of question is that?” Kagome was starting to reply not-so nicely. She was confused, and irritated, and she didn’t understand what he was trying to point out.

“Look, Kagome. It was clouding you” Kouga just spilled out. He was trying to be as patient as he could so she could digest the information and understand what he was trying to say but she was not connecting the dots at all. “Her soul. I could see it. It was clouding yours”

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean?!”

She was afraid... and nervous. She didn’t understand anything but by the look of Kouga’s eyes, whatever ‘clouding’ mean was not good.

“It means that her soul was controlling some parts of your life.” He finally spilled out, almost as irritated as her. “I’m pretty sure the reason you had her soul in the first place was because of the jewel. But your feelings, your thoughts? All hers. I could see it. I could see it clouding you.”

Kagome took a moment to finally understand what he was getting at. Her eyes were wide as plates, bewildered... because there was no way in hell Kouga was doing this to her.

“And InuYasha?” He continued. “He was drawn to you because of the dead miko’s soul”

“Shut up” Kagome whispered, astonished.

“I know it’s hard, Kagome. But you need to try and realize! Just think about it all and you’ll be able to tell that it was never really you-“

“SHUT UP!!” She shrieked, tears already blurring her sight.

She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe someone would do that to her, much less Kouga. Lie to her like that. Try to trick her just to have her? She thought the world of him. She knew he had a crush on her, but this?!

“You know I’m telling the truth, Kagome” He said, trying to calm her down “Deep down, you know” He tried to touch her but she flinched away instantly.

“Don’t touch me!” She hissed, face full of rage.

“Kagome-“

“No!” She cut him off. “Seriously Kouga, out of all people, I’d never thought you’ll be able to do this!!” She was crying now, screaming and crying. “To make up some shit like this just to try and get me to be with you?!”

“I’m not making anything up!!” He growled back at her.

“Seriously?! I thought you were my friend! I thought you cared about me!” She shrieked at him.

“I DO!” He shouted. “I do! I do care about you more than anything in this world!”

“And you actually expect me to believe something like that?” Kagome ignored what he said. “How would you even know if my feelings are mine or not?!”

“For fuck’s sake!! I’m a demon, Kagome! Of course I know!”

“Then how come InuYasha doesn’t know?!”

“Did you hear what I said?? I’m a demon, he’s not!”

“Stop it, Kouga!” She said and looked at him with furious eyes. “I love InuYasha” she said, making him flinch at the statement. “I love him, so much” she added. “There’s just no way these all consuming feelings aren’t mine” she said. “I love him, and I always will”

Kouga’s eyes flashed pain for a moment, before they turned cold.

“I can see right though you, Kagome. I can see your true feelings, I’d always have. Why do you think I’m still pursuing you even when ‘you’ are so in love with the mutt?” He asked her, and Kagome tried so hard not to blush under his piercing eyes. “What happens once you finally realize I’m telling the truth? You’ll come running for me? Begging me to take you?”

The slap hurt him considerably even if it was delivered by a human woman, and the noise it made was enough for everyone to hear, even from the safe distance they were from the others.

“I hate you” Kagome hissed out, tears running down her face while her hand trembled in sure pain.

It was like someone pierced through Kouga’s heart.

“Kagome-“ he tried to apologize. What he said was out of line. And the sight of her right now was enough to want to beat himself to death.

“Don’t!” She cut him off again. “I mean it” She said, her voice shaky and her eyes clearly lying. “The lengths you’ll go to get what you want. Making this whole shit up, you’re just so fucking selfish!” She cried out “I really thought you cared about me” she added with a dry laugh, shedding more tears. “I don’t want to see you ever again” she whispered, voice trembling all the way through.

It was like Kouga was being slapped again, because he took a step back at her words.

“You can’t possibly mean that-“

“I DO!” She shrieked at him again. “I don’t want to see you ever again, Kouga. Ever!”

Kouga stood in shock for a few moments, watching her angry, crying face in disbelief. He just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

He never in his life lied to her. Not even when he kidnapped her.

He would never lie to her.

He couldn’t believe she thinks he’ll do such thing.

He couldn’t believe she thinks he’ll purposely hurt her.

“Fine” He said, stone voice. If she truly believed he was like that, then fine. “Whatever you wish, Kagome” he added, and she looked at him surprised at his reaction.

Maybe she thought he’ll ask for forgiveness, or put up a fight to prove he’s right. Because he never gave up on her before.

But he won’t.

It didn’t matter anymore, though.

“Just remember when you realize I’m telling the truth, that I won’t come back for you” and with that he left.

Kagome sobbed at the painful memory.

True to word, Kouga never returned.

At that time, she thought that they just had a fight. That he’ll return, like he always did, no matter what. With some pretty wild flowers in his hands, and that charming smile she loved so much. She was sure. It was just a fight. Friends fought every once in a while. He would return.

But he never did.

And true to word, he was right. About everything.

Instead of the marriage Kagome always dreamed of, she had a mating ceremony, almost as soon as they arrived to Kaede’s village.

That night, the night that was supposed to be the best night of her life, the night she gave herself to InuYasha completely, the night he marked her as his, the night he chose her... the fireworks never came.

It was lacking, empty.... in every sense of the world. InuYasha seemed to feel the exact same, because she looked as confused as her.

She blamed it to the stress. To the many emotions of defeating Naraku, to the stress free life they weren’t used to, to the loss of Kouga.

She was distracted, that was it. The fireworks will come, the butterflies in her belly will flutter again, the blush in her cheeks will burn like it always did. She was just distracted.

Maybe she needed to talk to her mom, she thought. Deliver the good news:

The defeat of Naraku and her Mating ceremony.

Except, that when she tried to, she couldn’t go through the well.

She cried that night... and the next one... and the next one. She cried so much. She screamed and kicked and begged and cursed. Her heart was broken in a million pieces. And for some reason, InuYasha’s reassurance that she had him for the rest of her life was absolutely not enough. Even though she always knew that if she were to choose between InuYasha and her family she’ll pick him.

If she could turn back in time, she’ll make another choice.

She told Sango instead. She told Sango what happened between her and Kouga, trying to find at least a bit of comfort in her best friend.

Then the nightmares started.

At first they were foggy, she could barely make what was going on. But the icy blue eyes? Always crystal clear. Always present.

InuYasha got distant. Rumors about Kikyō living in the forest started to arise, and so did InuYasha’s idea about ‘patrolling’ even if they hadn’t had a demon’s attack ever since Nakaru’s dismissal.

Sango was suspicious, and Kagome couldn’t find herself to care.

The realization of her true feelings came exactly a year later.

She tried, she tried so hard. She tried to remember the ‘cute’ moments she had with InuYasha, the meaningful moments. She hoped she would swoon at the memory, or at least feel a shadow of what her younger self felt back then.

But it all seemed empty and just... wrong. She could remember every single moment clearly, but it felt like she wasn’t actually there when it happened. It felt like she was a spectator, a third person watching a scene. It felt like the memories didn’t even belong to her.

She tried to focus on them, but they seemed foreign... and her mind seemed to drift to other memories instead. Memories of icy blue eyes. Memories that had her blushing like a school girl, even if she could swear that was not how she felt back in the day, yet... it all seemed to had happened just like that.

The dreams continued.

Her mating mark disappeared.

She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when, because she hardly ever looked at it to begin with. Looking at the two twin marks made her nauseous, and made her feel so dirty she wanted to wash her body until it bled. Until there was another scar replacing the two twin marks.

She excused her feelings towards it by blaming herself for relating the day of her mating ceremony to the day she lost her entire family.

She asked Sango about it. Was it because she was human, and not a demon? Or because she was a Miko and her powers were developing at a fast pace? (All she did was train, anyways. A perfect excuse to stay out of the hut, and away from.... never mind)

Sango looked heartbroken at the question. She held her hands, ever so tenderly, and explained that when a mating mark disappeared, it only meant two things: either your mate is dead or has taken another mate.

InuYasha was not dead, she new that much.

Kagome’s only reply was ‘Oh’.

While InuYasha kept on ‘patrolling’, Kagome kept on dreaming. More clearly each day.

Being near InuYasha was making her feel somewhat ill.

He felt guilty, she could make that out. He was trying to spend more time with her, but they seemed to draw each other apart like same poles of a magnet. It was uncomfortable. It was almost unbearable.

The same icy blue eyes kept on visiting her every night.

She figured out how to let her family know about her. Know about what happened. Sort of.

It’s been almost a year, and she couldn’t imagine how much despair her mother must be feeling. She needed to let her now she was alive, or at least try to.

And she figured it out.

It was when she wrote her first letter, that the truth came like a lighting falling right on her.

Right after telling her mother that she was alive and well, and that she missed her dearly and wished nothing but to be home with them, she mentioned him.

And kept on talking about him.

It was once she read the finished letter that she realized.

How or why she even started to talk about him, she didn’t have a clue.

But 90% of the letter was him. And how sorry she felt for blowing him off like she did, and the mean words she said.

And how much she missed him.

...Her mother barely knew about Kouga.

She started hyperventilating. Shaking so bad that she couldn’t keep herself on her feet. Her knees gave up as the letter felt to the floor, and she cried. So much. So hard.

Sango found her like this, inconsolable. She tried to calm her down for like what seemed hours, and once she finally did, she couldn’t find it in her to tell her the truth.

She told her she missed her mother (which wasn’t a lie) and that she found a way to let her know she was fine.

Sango understood, and didn’t ask any more questions.

After that, the resentment at life, at the Shikon no Tama, at Kikyō, at InuYasha and at basically all, started.

She was used. Used by a cursed jewel. Deceived.

She knew that if Kikyō’s soul remained where it belong, she probably would’ve returned home the minute she set a foot in the past... and Damn it all.

She also knew that was a lie.

She would’ve returned anyways, and she would’ve helped anyways. But all that heartbreak? All that pain? All that love triangle bullshit that she went through? None of it would’ve happened.

Her own feelings were overshadowed by a foreign soul. And so did ‘InuYasha’s ‘feelings’ for her.

None of it was real, and she lost Kouga for it.

“Kagome please, calm down” Sango begged as she hugged her tightly. She was so lost in her memories it felt like she blacked out momentarily.

“It wasn’t me, Sango!” Kagome cried out. “It wasn’t me and he knew, and yet he chose to wait for her damned soul to finally leave me. He waited for me while Kikyō’s soul pinned over InuYasha” Kagome cried again. “And then I didn’t even hear him out. I kicked him out of my life thinking he’ll return someday”

“I’m so sorry, Kagome” Sango said, not sure what to do. While she suspected Kagome’s state was Kouga related, she could’ve never fathom anything like this!

“He’ll never come back for me” Kagome said. “He told me so”

“I bet he’s just really hurt” Sango said trying to confort her. “Maybe you should be the one seeking him out this time”

Kagome wiped away her tears with her sleeves.

“It’s been three years” She whispered. “He’ll never forgive me”

“You don’t know that, Kagome” Sango said, rubbing her back. “You’ll never know if you don’t try” She added. “I’m not gonna say he’s gonna forgive you right away. It might be difficult” She explained. “But I never knew you for someone who gave up so easily” She said with a teasing smile, and Kagome allowed herself to chuckle at the comment.

“How do I even get to him?” Kagome sniffed. “I’d die trying to climb those mountains”

Sango smiles at this.

“Kilala hasn’t had a good flight in years” She said, smirking at her. “I’m pretty sure she won’t mind”

Nervousness bubbled in Kagome’s stomach. She didn’t know if this was the right choice.

But if you never try, you never know... right?

Her chocolate eyes settled on the Eastern Mountains one more time, before the sun finally disappeared, hiding them completely from her view.

Maybe today she won’t say ‘Good Night’ but ‘See you soon’.

A.N.:

So... that was longer than expected.

Anyways, I finally finished writing this chapter, and I'm so excited to finally post this.

See, this is a very old theory of mine, something that I just can't ignore.

What if Kagome's feelings for InuYasha are truly Kikyo's?

Hear me out. I have may reasons why to believe this lol

We know that Kagome and Kikyo 'share' a soul... and yet when Kikyo dies, her soul goes to heaven (I assume) and Kagome's soul remains. So, what I believe is that Kagome had Kikyo's soul until that demon witch brought her back, and Kikyo managed to steal part of her soul back. We also know (I'm pretty sure this is canon) that the part of soul Kikyo steals from Kagome is the angry, betrayed and vengeful part of it. So, what if Kagome has the happy part of it? the part that's in love with InuYasha? The part that wants to have a happy ever after with him? Also, from day 1 InuYasha was attracted to Kagome only due to the fact that she reminded him of Kikyo... and he chose Kikyo over Kagome more times that we can count. He only settled for Kagome once Kikyo died. what if his attraction towards Kagome is slightly more deeper than just looks? What if it has to do with the fact that Kagome has part of Kikyo's soul inside her? And the last thing: Kagome doesn't take crap from anyone, yet no matter how many times InuYasha fcks her over she barely even gets mad at him. it just seems so unreal to me, more so the fact that she "chose" to stay by his side no matter who he choses in the end. Idk... what do you think?

Anyways, I hope you like this. i just wanna let you know that this isn't an InuYasha is a dck fanfic, Kagome just can't help what she feels even if she knows that she's been fooled just like InuYasha did. She doesn't care about the fact that he cheated or is with Kikyo and so on.

So... did you like it? I’m kind of ashamed of it....

#kogkag #koga x kagome #kogkag fanfic #Kagome Higurashi #Kouga #koga #inuyasha #silvana writes : good mourning

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