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blazingparker · 3 years

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When I’m Like This, You’re the One I Trust

hello my lovelies!! I’m here with the one-shot I wrote as a massive THANK YOU to each and every one of my followers. When I started this, I had just reached 100 followers and now there are even a few more of you! I’m so grateful to each and every one of you, and I really hope you enjoy this fic.

This was inspired by the song Blinding Lights by the Weeknd. The specific stanza is referenced in my author’s note on ao3!

read it on ao3!

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It wasn’t often that Peter had a sensory overload, but when they did happen, they were...devastating. Physically, mentally devastating.

This was one of those days.

Peter woke up with a pounding headache, every brush against the fabric of his pajamas or his sheets feeling like fire licking along his skin. Tony was apparently making breakfast for them, evidenced by the fact that Peter could hear every clunk of a dish being set on the counter and the crack of an egg that fell into a sizzling pan.

Against his better judgment, Peter cracked open his eyes. The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their bedroom was normally a welcome sight, warming his skin and making him feel like a cat stretching out into the rays. Today, though, it was a blinding assault on his eyes that made him whimper and try to curl away from it, only to be met with more burning sensation from the fabric.

“Good morning, Peter,” FRIDAY greeted him, and the young man actually let out a soft cry at that. The voice, normally bearable, was so incredibly loud that he could barely stand it. He reached his hands up to cover his ears, trying to do something -- anything -- to make it better.

“FRIDAY, activate Spider Shutdown Protocol,” a voice whispered, but to Peter it sounded like a normal volume. FRIDAY didn’t respond verbally to the command, as she was relegated to listening only while the protocol was activated. Immediately, the windows were blacked out and the light blocked from the room. The heater kicked in, since Peter had told Tony once that his inability to thermoregulate seemed even worse when he was like this. Though they made no sound, Peter knew the walls of their bedroom had been soundproofed as well. He wouldn’t have to deal with hearing all the sounds of Avengers tower as people began to wake up and go about their days.

“Hey, my love,” Tony whispered as he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are we having a bad spider-senses day?” He asked, reaching out as if to smooth his hand down Peter’s back before pulling away, realizing that might not be a good move right now.

“Yeah,” Peter whispered back in a hoarse voice, feeling tears prick at his eyes. “Sorry for ruining breakfast, it was really sweet of you to cook.” He hid his face in the pillow despite the pain it brought him, trying to keep Tony from noticing his tears. His boyfriend knew him better than that, though, picking up on how his voice wavered slightly. He might not be able to see Peter, but he knew him well enough by now to know how he was feeling even without that.

“Honey, no,” he murmured back immediately. “You didn’t ruin anything, hear me? If anything, you saved our frying pan from getting another egg burnt onto it. We’ll eat whenever you’re ready, and not a moment sooner.” Peter relaxed somewhat at that, summoning the energy to scoot closer to Tony in their bed.

“Okay. Thank you,” he whispered. After a few moments of silence, Peter reached out for Tony’s hand. Finding it, he guided it to rest lightly in his hair, sighing softly in happiness as the man began to ever so gently card his fingers through his curls.

“You’re okay with touching?” Tony asked, voice still soft as he continued his motions. Peter instinctively went to nod, but stopped himself and instead just turned his head towards Tony’s voice. He didn’t want to make his headache even worse.

“You, yes,” he clarified. “Anyone else...no.” Tony felt his heart swell at that admission, knowing that he was the one Peter trusted when he was like this. Not anyone else.

“I’m honored,” he said truthfully, smiling down at Peter in the dark. Peter blushed, instinctively turning his face away from Tony as though to hide it, forgetting there was no way his boyfriend could see it in the dark.

The two stayed there for a while, in the dark and in silence. Peter’s headache was still raging but the feeling of Tony’s hand in his hair and the darkness of the bedroom were steadily making things better. He was so grateful for Tony’s endless patience, how there was never a sign of irritation or restlessness. It was like there was nothing Tony would rather do than stay here with Peter - and knowing him, that was probably true.

“How about a bath? We can get those pajamas off you, if they don’t feel good on your skin?” Tony eventually suggested. Peter had complained to him before about the feeling of sheets or clothes on his skin when he was like this, unable to handle the sensation. When everything was too much, even the smallest thing made everything seem all the more unbearable.

“You just want to see me naked,” Peter grumbled back, but the amusement in his voice was clear. Tony huffed out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.

“It’s too dark for that, Peter. But I won’t deny I always enjoy the view,” he shot back with a wink that his boyfriend couldn’t see. After much playful grumbling, Tony was able to help Peter up and out of their bed and move them to the bathroom.

“Okay, cover your ears, my dear. The water might be too loud. I’m still working on that dampener,” Tony said once they got to the bathroom, gently helping Peter hop up onto the counter and going to start the bath. He added Peter’s favorite bath bomb - eucalyptus and lavender, something Tony had made specially for him. Peter had loved the eucalyptus and mint scent from Bath & Body Works before the spider bite, but afterwards the smell and taste of mint had become unbearable. After mentioning that particular fact to Tony off-handedly one night, the mechanic had traded his Iron Man gauntlets for bath bombs and room sprays, determined to create something Peter would like.

Once the bathtub was filled, Tony turned off the water and immediately returned to Peter’s side. He helped the young man out of his pajamas, FRIDAY wordlessly increasing the lights in the room by just a small percentage so he could see and keep himself from whacking Peter in the face or something.

“In we go,” Tony murmured when they were finally ready for their bath, helping his boyfriend down from the counter and easing the two of them into the warm water. He leaned back against the wall of the tub, pulling Peter into his chest so all he had to feel was the water and Tony’s skin - not cold tile. Peter’s tense, coiled muscles immediately began to relax and the younger man let out a contented sigh.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re the best boyfriend ever?” Peter asked, almost in a daze as he rested in the water with Tony. There was no blinding light, no fire on his skin, no sounds except for the water and their shared breathing. Everything was so much better, and he had Tony to thank.

“Oh, you’re going to want to be careful with those compliments. The team is always bitching about the size of my ego already,” Tony joked, beaming when he earned a small little laugh from the man in his arms.

“Mmm, I’ll beat them up for you. I’ve already stolen Cap’s shield once, I’ll do it again,” Peter mused softly, smiling sweetly when Tony leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“My hero,” Tony murmured back, but his voice had lost all its playfulness in favor of sincerity. He wanted -- no, needed -- Peter to know just how important he was to him. After an episode like this, the younger hero could have a tendency to get in his own head, blame himself for “putting Tony out” or “making Tony deal with him.” The older man was hoping to get ahead of that this time - maybe prevent that guilt from manifesting at all.

“I’m so glad you trust me to take care of you when you’re like this,” he whispered. “I love you so much, Peter. So, so much. Every part of you. Good days and bad days.” Peter twisted in Tony’s arms, looking up at him.

“I love you too,” he said, voice a little stronger now. “Thank you for taking care of me. You-you make it better.” Peter lifted a hand and stroked Tony’s cheek, droplets of water falling into that impeccable goatee.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Tony said with a soft smile, leaning into the touches on his skin and turning his head to press a soft kiss to Peter’s palm. The two remained there, whispering sweet things to each other and exchanging soft caresses until the water ran cold. Only when Peter started to shiver did Tony dare to move.

“Time to get you nice and warm, and maybe get some food into you. You feeling up to any lights?” He asked, climbing out of the tub and grabbing towels for them both.

“If they’re low, we can try it,” Peter agreed, smiling as he got out and was immediately wrapped in the softest, warmest towel he’d ever felt. FRIDAY brought the lights up just enough so they could see each other but it was far from their normal brightness.

“We’re okay?” Tony asked, drawing Peter into his arms and holding onto him before dropping a kiss to the top of his boyfriend’s hair.

“We’re okay,” Peter murmured back, tucking his face into Tony’s neck and pressing a soft kiss to the skin there. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime, Peter.” Tony got to work on drying them both off and dressing them both in his clothes. Peter initially wasn’t thrilled, forgetting that Tony’s clothes always felt so much better than his own. His disappointment quickly faded when he was wrapped up in soft fabrics and Tony’s cologne.

“Breakfast?” He asked hopefully, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Tony finished putting his shirt on and turned to look at him with a smile.

“Sure. What are you feeling?” He asked.

“Toaster waffles?” Peter asked, blushing a little bit as he glanced away. “The chocolate chip ones, maybe?”

“If that’s what my Peter wants, that’s what he shall have,” Tony said with a charming smile and a wink, holding out his hand. Peter smiled shyly back at him, reaching out a hand covered by the sleeve of Tony’s sweater. Their hands clasped together and the smile went from shy to positively radiant.

Sensory overload days were tough, for sure. But Tony always knew how to make them better, and Peter was grateful for that.

#starker #starker fic #blazingparker writes #peter parker x tony stark

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love-takes-work · 3 years

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Live on Instagram, Rebecca Sugar and Ben Levin (with help from Ian Jones-Quartey) have given us a two-hour fundraiser to benefit the Trevor Project, in honor of Bi+ Awareness Week.

It was a lovely evening hanging out with them. Please see below for a little breakdown of what songs they played and what was discussed during the stream in terms of bi+ youth resources, Rebecca’s experiences, and the importance of having support for bi+ people.

Please go to The Trevor Project and learn more about what they do and how you can help. Their Resources for Bi+ Youth packet is available on the site! You can also donate through Rebecca’s specific fundraiser.

More below:

Rebecca announces this event is for Bi+ Awareness week for the Trevor Project. Ian Jones-Quartey is giving some help with the fundraiser in the background.

First Rebecca plays "Love Like You" on guitar. It's a lovely stripped down version. They're a little bashful about making a couple glitches on the guitar. It's very sweet and charming, Rebecca, no one minds. :)

Next Ben Levin joins on bass and they play "Fries," a longer version than was in the Adventure Time show.

Then Rebecca talks about the Trevor Project and its suicide hotline that they provide for the LGBTQIA+ youth they support. After some tech glitches, they discuss how great Trevor is and what resources and research they provide on why it's so important to support these communities. Since this is Bi+ Awareness Week, they have put together a resource guide. They encourage us to donate to this organization.

Rebecca discusses Ben Levin's involvement on Steven Universe and Craig of the Creek. They decide to play Jeff Rosenstock's song "Illegal Fireworks and Hiding Bottles in the Sand" as a mashup with the Craig of the Creek ending song.

Then they give an update on the donation amounts and Rebecca gets so excited about the support. They admit to being really nervous after no performances for so long.

Rebecca decides to play a solo song and doesn't announce the title at first but Steven Universe fans all know "Escapism." It's a slightly different version with some great guitar additions in an added interlude, and they even throw in some fun super-high squeaky notes at the end.

They give a shoutout to Jeff Liu for the beautiful guitar part. They tell a story about Adam Muto (who worked on "Escapism" with Joe and was Rebecca's board partner on Adventure Time), and how he asked Rebecca to write a song for the Adventure Time finale. Rebecca goes on to play "Time Adventure."

Then they bring Ben back to do the bass while Rebecca sings "I'm Just Your Problem." Rebecca does a cool guitar solo in the middle while Ben rocks on the bass.

Then they do a nice little instrument switch and bring in the omnichord and set up "True Kinda Love." They shout out Chance the Rapper, aivi and surasshu, and of course Estelle for the help writing this song.

Rebecca gets excited again about the amount of people who have donated and gives us info about the hotline for the Trevor Project, how their hotline is available for phone, chat, and text. They also point out the existence of Trevor Project's available pamphlet, which can help people understand their Bi+ friends and family, as well as helping actually Bi+ people understand how they can expect to be treated, how to understand themselves, and that they aren't defined by their partner.

Rebecca then takes a moment to set up with an acoustic guitar (so they can have their foot on a box since they don't have a strap) and they cut out briefly to get it organized. Then they do indeed come back with their foot on box.

With a shoutout to Kate Micucci (who is watching on Instagram Live), Rebecca says she will play "a Lars and Sadie song" that she's figuring out on guitar, and plays "Be Wherever You Are."

Rebecca goes back to getting excited about the donation amount and they can't believe it's as high as it is with the concert less than half over! They say they'd like to make a tradition of doing a Bi+ Awareness Week fundraiser every year. She didn't have access to information that Trevor is now providing to bi youth when she was growing up in the 2000s, and thinks their resources are so vital. She suggests using their resources yourself or that you slip the resources to people in your life who want to support (or need to know more about how to support) bi youth.

Rebecca says they're about to play a "really really hard" song that they're nevertheless excited to go for. They said maybe we can guess what it is. They shout out Nick DeMayo, who's in the audience, the animation director of Steven Universe who is Greg's namesake and taught them a lot about music. And then they jump into . . . a guitar and bass version of "Other Friends"!

They shout out aivi and surasshu, Jeff Liu, and Sarah Stiles for all their contributions to that song, and how cool it is to play a "campfire version" of the song even though it's different.

Next, she wants to play a solo (but will need Ben again right after!) but takes a moment to thank everyone in attendance for supporting the stream and the Trevor Project. They say "thank you for bearing with me" regarding the performance rockiness.

They talk about Marceline and how they felt so connected to this character--writing episodes like "What Was Missing" where Marceline would be revealed to have had a relationship with Bubblegum and be known to be a bi character, and Rebecca felt so astonished that the audience understood Marceline was bi and understood she would always be bi, not fluctuating in orientation based on current relationships defining her. Rebecca explored this about herself only after she saw it explored with Marceline, and understood it was so important to have media that helps people understand who a bi person might be. She never related to the "party person" or extrovert stereotype of bi people as they’re usually shown in media, and thought as a nerdy person who was shy, she couldn't be bi if that was true. Cartoons helped her connect with people who understood those things about Marceline and eventually about herself.

Trevor is so important as an organization to help the next generation understand all of this. Rebecca has felt that knowing herself wasn't possible if she didn't understand her bisexuality or accept it as what it is, and it spread instability throughout the rest of her life. What brought her to finally being able to process and understand this aspect of her identity was cartoons, and she hopes cartoons can bring some others in as well. With that, she brings out the song she was asked to write for Marceline even though she had left the show. Rebecca plays "Everything Stays."

Rebecca then says they were a little conflicted about whether they were going to say all that stuff, about why this issue is personal to them. (It's okay, Rebecca, this is the best!!!)

She says that song was about her stuffed black rabbit that was her favorite toy that she thought she loved so much, but she forgot it in the garden and it was damaged. That it was so surprising to her that she could have loved this rabbit the way she did and not realize it was missing, and that it could change without her. "Everything Stays" was obviously about that, but she also says the situation with Spinel was inspired by the same toy. She switches to electric guitar to sing and play "Drift Away" with Ben back on board on bass.

They point out that they're rocketing through the set list and Ian suggests maybe they'll have to do some encores. In thinking about what songs to play, they point out that so many songs were written about their mental health journey and coming out to family and friends. A song that was "at the end of that whole arc" for Rebecca was "Change Your Mind." It can go on forever, they point out, but they'll only play it a few times. On we go with a really smooth guitar version of "Change Your Mind." (It's the extended looping version.)

They announce that now with the Instagram contributions and the landing page we've reached the goal of $20,000, and they can't believe it's at the halfway point of the stream and we have already reached it despite that the show's been done for a long time and they "broke a lot of social media rules" by stepping away for so long, but that's been crucial to their mental health and their journey.

After they come back from a break, they discuss some funny artifacts that they finally got to take home that were left in the office--a Steven Universe piñata that they were supposed to smash in celebration of a pickup and they didn't want to because, you know, hitting a representation of their younger brother is kinda wack? Haha.

They also had a model of Marceline's bass.

These items were left in the office and just kind of frozen in time because Rebecca's last day (written on the white board, still, when they returned!) was March 13, 2020, just as the pandemic was coming down. Returning to collect stuff was like visiting a room that had been frozen in time!

Rebecca offers a stretch goal to get to $30,000 instead of the original $20,000, and talks a little more about the Trevor Project, discussing how important representation has been, to have bi representation in terms of DIRECT support for LGBTQ+ youth. What they've gotten to do with cartoon representation, having queer characters who can just have fun the way heteronormative kids can and see representatives of themselves is great, but these specific resources are also so important.

Rebecca then plays "Heart of the Country," a Paul McCartney song they're learning that has a hard solo they hope they'll nail. After playing it, they say they flubbed some of it but it was super fun.

Rebecca comes out with an old ukulele--older than the one they wrote the Steven theme song on and auctioned off for National Bailout--that they wrote a bunch of Adventure Time songs and got as a Hanukkah present. (They mention happy 5782 for those of us who celebrate Rosh Hashanah.) Ben is also using his first bass! They recommend musical instruments as gifts for bi people because those are the gifts that keep on giving! They mention working on guitar during the lockdown (which has been therapeutic!) and not having played uke in a while because of that. With that, she dives into "Here Comes a Thought."

They decide to talk about the background of "Mindful Education," how they were coming out at the time they were writing that episode and song. They said coming out was like having the ground spin around. They thought mindful meditation, being so wonderful and helpful, could become an 11-minute episode where Steven leads kids in mindful meditation. With help from Ben (and Matt Burnett), Rebecca realized it would work better if they show characters benefiting from the lessons. They have a little joke about how the episode number was 108 and they prided themselves on knowing the episode numbers. Then they put aside the uke and pick up a big black guitar to play "Found."

After this, she talks more about Trevor Project's hotline, chat, text, and resources. They remind us that bi+ people experience very specific forms of marginalization and this organization can help everyone who wants to understand. She thanks everyone for helping with donations and she can't believe the Instagram fundraiser has gotten to $10,000. She's amazed that "the thermometer is bursting" and promises to draw it later. Ben thinks he could be part of future fundraisers and Rebecca reminisces about times they've played together, like in 2016 at SDCC and a Gallery Nucleus show.

Rebecca goes back to the other guitar to do some audience requests for repeat songs and talks about the song "Fries." The story behind this one, when she was writing it--the first song she wrote for television and the first episode she boarded--since she was introverted and struggled with pitching, she went on the roof of Cartoon Network to practice being louder until she was actually audible. Ian helped.

They decide to do the ending Craig song again and Ben says Jeff Rosenstock's song is really nice and Rebecca talks about getting teary over the Craig ending with people sitting around the dinner table. Rebecca's favorite line is "speaking in a stupid secret language." She feels like she still hasn't moved on from that in her life and likes to surround herself with people who speak that language. After it's over, Rebecca says hi to Jeff Rosenstock in the chat.

They do more shoutouts for the Trevor Project and then discuss encore songs. Rebecca decides to do "Love Like You" again because they were sad they messed up a chord during the first performance. It's another lovely version.

After more great discussion of the Trevor Project's resources and Bi+ Awareness Week, Rebecca says hi to her Brazilian friends and how awesome it was to visit there for a convention, and she loves that Trevor is trying to expand resources to be more global. She knows how important those resources would be to help people worldwide. She thanks people for coming out to see her, and admits to being surprised that her life has come to include actual performances since she always thought she'd just be behind a desk as an animator. She gets very nervous about performing but loves that people support her. They love being able to perform and once got a sweet comment from John DiMaggio (the voice of Jake on Adventure Time) who would hear the early demos that were a struggle to be audible, and he told her that she's come so far that it now sounds like she enjoys performing, enjoys the sound of her own voice now. She feels that coming out and all the support from friends, family, and organizations has made that confidence and comfort with herself possible.

With that, Rebecca plays the Steven Universe theme song on guitar!

And then, they play "Time Adventure" again.

Rebecca talks more about the astounding amount of support for Bi+ Awareness Week, how moving it is and how hard it is to hold it together while talking about what it was like to be an adult who didn't know if they were even allowed to be bisexual and nonbinary, how much of their adult life was in such a quagmire over not knowing fully who they were.

For their next to last song, they play a song written by aivi and surasshu with lyrics by Rebecca: "Being Human" from the ending theme of Steven Universe Future.

Finally, Rebecca says thank you to everyone who's been involved in the songs--the performers, aivi and surasshu, Jeff Ball, the Crew, Ben Levin, Ian Jones-Quartey--and everyone who's helped raise over $11,000 just through the Instagram concert. She plays "Change Your Mind" one more time, adding that the journey is ongoing even though this song was written at a time she considers at the end of an arc of self-discovery for her.

Thank you!

(Yes, I did a donation.)

Links:

https://www.thetrevorproject.org/

https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/how-to-support-bisexual-youth/

#rebecca sugar #steven universe #adventure time #the trevor project #ben levin #craig of the creek #myblog

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playing--koi · 5 years

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Creatures Alike

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning(s): SMUT, brief mentions of violence and torture, brief mentions of blood and injury, swearing, unprotected sex (y’all this is a mythical world, but stds are very real here so keep that shit locked up)

Summary: A mysterious Witcher saves you from criminal sacrifice and quite a grim background of servitude and torture. Since he’s decided to nurse you back to health and treat you with compassion, you’ve felt something awaken inside of you for the first time in your bleak life.

Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

The coarse bark of the tree trunk pressed painfully into the skin of your back. You weren’t sure if the liquid you felt soaking through your rags was that of sweat or blood. The hot, sticky air of the forest was palpable and, if you weren’t otherwise occupied with being tied to a tree, no doubt the heat would’ve instead been the subject of your complaints.

So how had you ended up tied to a tree? Simple. You were a criminal, ostracized and locked away; a long life of torture awaiting you for the murder of your village’s king. However, you didn’t regret it. Hell, you’d practically give anything to go back in time and do it all over again, savoring the vision of that vile man’s blood that glistened upon your dagger.

He got exactly what he’d deserved and you’d sworn to every high priestess sent to talk to the “daughter of Lilit” that you’d never repent. As far as you knew, you had no relation to the demon goddess of the night, intent on exterminating the human race; though you decided you’d lean into it. It was easier to claim Lilit’s likeness than to relive the horrors that you’d experienced at the hands of that man.

You were an orphan that’d been left on the doorstep of the king one night. It quickly became the subject of town gossip because your ears showed that of elven heritage. Not fully, but certainly enough to be recognized. Against all suggestion from his council, he decided to take you in to one day become a servant girl. The village ate that garbage up from the palm of his unscathed, perfectly manicured hands; woes of his “kind, gentle spirit” and “innate care for all creatures, no matter how disgusting”.

It made you sick. He made you sick. With his creative list of unthinkable punishments that he saved for only you. The halfblooded elf who was used as an outlet for his rage. His council knew, his family knew, neighboring royals knew. And no one batted an eye. If it kept their king happy, drain the elf’s blood.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you killed him. But evidently it was. There was talks of hanging you, burning you at the stake, stoning you to death; frankly, you’d lost track of the plethora of capital suggestions. Everyone cried of how ungrateful you were. That he’d accept one of your kind just to be murdered for his generosity. It almost made you laugh that these people were so busy sneering at you over a man that they only pretended to know the first thing about. In their minds, the honorable king would never lay a finger on an innocent creature, but oh, how wrong they were.

And now here you were. In the stead of public execution, you were now being offered as a sacrifice to the griffin that had been terrorizing the village. You’re pretty sure that everyone knew one lousy meal wouldn’t do anything to quench the abomination’s blood-thirst, but everyone was excited by the idea of a painful, terrifying, and gruesome death for a criminal such as yourself. Well, fuck them too.

You weren’t quite sure why they’d tied you up in the forest, considering griffins mostly traveled by flight, making it nearly impossible to see you hidden within the tree tops and thick foliage. Either you’d die by some miracle of the griffin finding you or perhaps another horrid creature, starvation, dehydration, or bandits. So many options, lucky you.

Lightheaded due to exhaustion and overheating, you couldn’t tell if you were imagining the noises that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. After years of mental torture and loneliness, you were more than aware of your mind’s ability to hallucinate quite grand things. Like that one time you’d managed to have an entire argument with your dinner rations. And you weren’t even sure if you’d won.

However you couldn’t imagine that your own mind would be able to conjure up the noise that you’d just heard. A growl so menacing and threatening, you were sure this was your end. And you hadn’t even seen the beast yet. You’d been through a lot, so you were not usually convinced that you wouldn’t survive something because, after so many days spent begging not to, you still prevailed. But this might actually be it.

And then you saw it. After many tales of such a beast; paintings, sonnets, songs, epic novels: a griffin. It was huge, grotesque, and sinister. Its face looked permanently smug as it traipsed in and out of your vision through openings. And it was on foot; how peculiar. But the closer you looked, the easier it was to see that it was injured. With a trail of blood closely following it, you concluded that it must’ve been its wings because, had it been another extremity, it probably wouldn’t have been walking as easily as it was.

But what creature would attack something so massive and menacing?

You kept your breaths as silent as possible, remaining as still as you could. You weren’t sure how good its hearing was. You didn’t really know much about griffins. You didn’t really know much about anything, to be honest. Spending most of your life hidden from the world certainly did an excellent job of also hiding the world from you. Whenever you could sneak a book from the king’s library, you would, but any of his more riveting, knowledgable ones were kept very far from your reach.

It was now far darker than it had been just a few minutes before, so you prayed to the gods that it wouldn’t see you. Seeming to be wandering aimlessly, the creature’s steps were slow and heavy before it made a sort of bedding with the surrounding leaves and curled up—as much as such a large body could “curl”—and began to snore.

Great, I pray to the gods for safety and instead they send a griffin to my exact location where it falls asleep, no doubt ready to maul me the moment I make an inkling of a sound. What a fucking joke.

Before you can agonize for too much longer, you see a flash of white in your peripheral vision and you whip your neck to face it. You see a man. A very large, very intimidating man with long white hair and dressed head to toe in black. He had weapons sheathed on his back and moved with a swiftness of someone who really knew how to use them. And he appeared to be purposely moving closer to the griffin. Oh no. He was going to wake it up and you were both going to die.

Well, he was just speeding up the inevitable. So you decided to watch. At least enjoy some entertainment in your last moments.

You couldn’t help but notice his pure beauty and the rugged nature of it. He was a daunting presence, one of indisputable importance and humble pride. He moved like both the lion and the gazelle; he was a contradiction, both gentle and dangerous. Reckless yet careful. Gods, he was approaching a griffin, yet it seemed to be just a daily occurrence for him. Maybe you both were going to live if his stature was anything to go by.

He was then standing over the sleeping body of the griffin, unsheathing his sword with delicacy so as not to awaken the beast. And without a sliver of hesitation, he chopped the overgrown bird’s head cleanly off its shoulders.

You gasped without a thought and he quickly searched the darkness for the source of the noise and you could feel the blood drain from your face. Sure, he’d saved you from the imminent danger, but what if he was the new imminent danger? A man that confident and sly couldn’t be underestimated by a prisoner tied to a tree.

In the dark of the night, you could make out his eyes just as they found you. His brows furrowed, no doubt confused by your predicament. You couldn’t imagine it was a common occurrence to find a woman tied to a tree in the middle of a forest right after killing a griffin. He slowly began to inch closer to you before he was only a few footsteps away.

You could now make out the rich amber of his eyes as they scanned your…dilemma. His face was nothing short of perfect— sculpted by the delicate fingers of the gods—and mauled ever since by the cruelty he’d clearly faced on the continent. His face was dirty and battered, like he’d picked a pub brawl with the wrong gang of thugs. But after seeing the cool and collected way he slayed that animal, you couldn’t imagine him losing any fight.

And then he spoke. A deep rumble that sounded harsh to unprepared ears. His voice was that of smoke; thick and mysterious—throaty and coarse. It awoke something primal in you that’d been stifled perhaps your entire life. So much so that you’d forgotten to listen to what he’d actually said.

“Ma’am?” He inquired, clearly trying to get your attention. Little did he know he had it undivided.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you couldn’t resist.

“Who are you?” You wondered aloud, your voice remaining constant in such a threatening situation. Due to the trials of your life, it’d been a long time since you feared death.

“Geralt,” he grumbled. Well, it didn’t exactly cover the complexities of your question, but it was a start.

“Are you going to kill me, Geralt?”

He grunted in response, but you could swear you saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. He pulled the sword from its place hilted on his shoulder and you closed your eyes to brace for impact, but instead of an untimely demise, you simply felt your balance slipping as the rope was no longer holding you up straight.

Before you could land face-first on the forest floor, you could feel a forearm reach out and catch you around the waist. Upon opening your eyes, you could see that you were angled toward the ground and, had this peculiar man not reached his hand out and almost effortlessly stopped your downfall, you’d have had a mouthful of twigs.

He pulled you back up straight and, after no longer feeling your need for his support, he left you to stand on your own—though he watched you like a mare would her foal. Making sure you didn’t immediately go topsy-turvy. The absence of his warmth around your belly was somehow even more uncomfortable than the sweltering heat. You couldn’t even begin to think how sweaty he was under all of that black leather. What you’d give to get him out of it.

You tried to physically shake the thoughts from your head.

“May I ask why you were tied to a tree?” He questioned, sizing you up, almost as if he was guessing what the reason could be himself.

“My village is convinced that I’m the daughter of Lilit, so they left me as a human sacrifice for that griffin,” you pointed to the recently-slain beast.

He raised his eyebrows at your confession. “So you’re the servant girl who murdered the king,” his eyes narrowed as he continued, “I’ve heard talk of you. You’re not exactly spoken about favorably, considering you killed one of the continent’s most well-regarded rulers,”.

You felt a pang in your chest. You were so sick of the assumptions that everyone made about you. How you were a no-good, selfish, bloodthirsty elf. Always defending yourself from people who would never know the truth. Well, if that’s what they all thought, there was no use trying to change their minds.

“That would be me.” You sneered, “Probably should’ve just left me to die, huh?” You pushed past him, stomping away from your beautiful savior. Even a mysteriously handsome man saving your life couldn’t be a source of happiness.

However you didn’t exactly have time to dwell on it too much before your vision blurred and you could feel your body giving out. You were dehydrated, overheated, starved, and possibly bleeding. When was luck ever on your side?

You crumpled to the ground, a deafening ring reverberating through your head. Your body ached as your mind blanked. You didn’t even notice that you were now being moved. Your eyes grew heavier, heavier, heavier.

There you were, back in the basement of the castle. Drenched in your own blood, the color a more muted red as it mixed with that of your sweat. Your ankle was raw from where the shackle was tightly bound to it, dirt and grime seeping within the cut.

You couldn’t possibly be back here, you’d killed him. He was supposed to be gone. But the sounds of his boots thundering down the stairs alerted you that it was far from over.

You startled awake, gasping for air. In a fit of panic, you jumped up from the makeshift bed you’d been asleep on, frantically searching the room for an explanation. You quickly came to the conclusion that you’d found yourself within an abandoned cottage of sorts. And you were not alone.

Geralt studied you with a confused intensity. His brows were furrowed as he sat in a chair that was situated next to the bed you’d been asleep in. An opened book was settled on his lap.

Your eyes drifted from him and instead looked down at your own body and saw that several areas had been bandaged, including places that you hadn’t even known to be injured.

“Clearly they’re not too kind to prisoners in your village,” He stated after seeing that you’d been studying your own wounds.

“Why did you help me?” You questioned.

He cocked his head to the side, confused by your response. He probably expected some sort of gratitude in your words instead of the cautious interrogation that he was now being met with.

“You said it yourself, I’m a murderer,” you pushed further, “so why did you help me?” You gritted your teeth, the pain throbbing in your head did nothing to assuage the rage you felt at his dismissal of you upon your first meeting.

He inhaled deeply before answering your question. “I was originally going to take you back to your village along with the griffin’s head in hopes of some sort of…compensation,” you rolled your eyes at his honesty, “but when I examined your wounds further, I didn’t think you would live through the journey without some proper treatment.” He answered frankly.

“So your plan is to heal me and then turn me in?” You scoffed.

“Originally, yes. However, the more I’ve studied you, the more curious I’ve become.” He set the book on the ground and crossed his legs, leaning further back in the chair. Even from across the room, you could feel that the probing was about to begin. “Their stories don’t really align with what I’ve seen from you. What do you have to fear? Your village speaks as if they’re terrified of you. All anyone seems to call you is the daughter of Lilit, the elf with no soul—so what would you have to be afraid of?”

You sputtered out a laugh at the sheer irony of it all. What did you have to be afraid of? What a laughable question. What didn’t you have to be afraid of?

He stood from his seat and started to walk around the bed toward you and your body reacted before your mind even had time to register. You flinched, moving to protect all vital organs from the beating you felt to be inevitable. Your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly, spots were collecting within your darkened vision. Time stood still as you waited for the assault, but you couldn’t even hear his footsteps getting closer.

You slowly opened your eyes and moved your face from where it was tucked into your elbow. You saw Geralt standing there, his hands up in surrender as he looked at you with the mildest bit of sorrow.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he conceded, speaking in a way one might to a frightened animal, “It was unfair of me to pass judgment on you after our first meeting. Humans do it to my kind all the time and I know better than anyone how frustrating it can be,”.

“Your kind?” Your brows furrowed.

“I’m a Witcher,”.

Your eyes widened, remembering the stories you’d snuck from the library stacks about Witchers and their superhuman amounts of power used to defeat monsters across the continent. “You’re a Witcher?” You whispered, curiosity dripping from your voice. You were desperate to hear the tales of someone so well-traveled and brave.

“That’s enough about me, little elf.” He took a step closer to you. You narrowed your eyes at the nickname, but let it go quickly; it sounded more like a term of endearment than anything else. “Now sit back down on the bed, so I can redress your wounds. All of this excitement seems to have reopened a few cuts,” You obeyed, no longer preoccupied enough to ignore the pain.

He crouched down in front of where you were seated and moved to lift up one of your pant legs in order to check on the dressings. He continued this on your arms and legs for quite a while, very meticulous in his work to insure you didn’t walk away with any infections. It was then time to look at your back, the part you’d been dreading.

Sure, you knew he’d already seen it, but your back was covered fully in scars from your years of servitude. It was unsightly and you hated the reminders.

You faced the other direction, so you were now looking away from him. You carefully removed your old, tethered shirt. You used the raggedy material to shield any sight of your breasts, although you knew he couldn’t see them from his place behind you. He began to untie the cloth and remove the bandaging, goosebumps arising wherever you felt the ghost of his touch. Grabbing a damp rag, he started to clean the gashes that littered your back. You attempted not to hiss in pain, but it failed fairly quickly.

He slathered ointment onto your burning skin, lightly massaging it into the wounds of your back, making sure to take extra care of the areas that were especially banged up. This was all so foreign to you; these hands that held you with a gentle touch. Someone alleviating your pain instead of adding to it. You sighed in contentment at the sheer pleasure of another’s hands, especially those belonging to such a beautiful specimen, however pointedly you tried ignoring that fact.

Far too soon, the caress was replaced with more bandages and gauze. You were left internally whining at the loss of Geralt’s closeness. Before you went to put your same shirt back on, he tossed you one in far better condition that he must’ve found in the cottage.

You were fighting sleep, eager to spend more time in his presence. It was so soothing to you in a way that nothing else had ever been. He took one look at you, no doubt seeing your internal fight to stay awake. “Rest up, little elf,” he insisted, “I’ll still be here when you wake up,”.

And with that, you gave yourself permission to sleep.

You’d been trapped in the cottage with Geralt for roughly three days at this point, practically vibrating out of your own skin at the temptations you’d had to sit through. With Geralt constantly tending to you, the little amount of privacy the cottage offered, and having to bear witness to his perfectly crafted body, freshly soaked from his baths; a new side of you had suddenly awakened.

He captivated you. Your eyes followed him every moment you could get away with it. You certainly weren’t covert about it either. The feelings were just so new and profound that you were honestly just excited to be feeling them at all. Any common activity could become entertaining so long as Geralt was the one performing it.

You were entranced by his unexpected tenderness. He would sometimes sneak out at night to check on Roach when he thought you were asleep, making sure that nothing in the surrounding wood had agitated the horse. While his skills helped you to feel protected, his morality was what made you really trust him. He could’ve easily brought you back to your village, gotten a hefty sum, and been on his way. Hell, it wasn’t like you’d claimed innocence in the first place.

But no, instead he’d decided to offer you medical care using his own supplies, give you most of his hunting rations, find you shelter, and be the first person to ever treat you with true respect. So, what were you meant to do? Not develop any sort of feelings for him? That level of self control seemed utterly ridiculous.

Although it’d only been a short period of time, you felt so safe with him. He asked you questions and showed true interest in your answers. He comforted you after a few jarring nightmares. He asked your opinions on things and never made you feel ashamed if you didn’t know something. He told you some quite riveting stories of his travels and woes; of monsters and magic and all sorts of things.

You could feel a considerable predicament arising.

Before he’d left to go hunting, Geralt had been kind enough to prepare a bath for you. Your complaints of muck had probably started to annoy him at this point, so he pulled out all of the bells and whistles. Flowers, herbs, oils, scents, milks, powders; you didn’t even know what kind of concoction this was, but it felt fancy. So you were going to enjoy it.

You scrubbed your body until your skin was practically raw, not allowing even one granule of dirt to be left behind. Frankly, you’d needed the distraction that concentration brought. Anything was better than the devilish thoughts of Geralt that replayed in your mind at every moment since you’d met him.

And since it was your first time being truly alone in the cottage, maybe it was time to do something about it.

You couldn’t help yourself. It was the perfect storm of desire. The heat of the bath, the filth polluting your mind, the views you’d had the honor of seeing throughout the past few days; he was irresistible. And if the only relief you could offer yourself was within the confines of your own fantasy, then so be it.

The herbs and flowers floated around the surface of the bath as the milk and oil clouded the water, obscuring the view of your hand as it lowered down the skin of your stomach. You’d never felt such strong urges in your entire life.

It was your first time trying anything like this, but you’d had the pleasure of indulging in a few erotic novels throughout your time at the castle. Your fingers lightly caressed the flesh of your opening, teasing the sensitive area and imagining the droplets of water cascading down Geralt’s back earlier that day. How it’d feel to run your tongue across each rippling muscle, collecting the liquid in your mouth.

You sunk your middle finger into your core, feeling the wetness pooling inside of you. This man had you wound so tightly around his finger; you were practically bursting at the seams. Once you’d collected some of your slick on the tip of your finger, you pulled back and circled around your tiny bud of nerves. When you’d finally made contact, your body reacted in a way it never had before. Your legs twitched, causing some of the bathwater to splash from the tub, but you couldn’t find one care in the world, not even slowing at the sound.

A desperate whine left your mouth unexpectedly before you bit down on your lower lip, silencing yourself. The hand that wasn’t busy with your throbbing nether regions gripped the edge of the tub, almost numb at this point. You knew that if Geralt was the one doing this to you, that hand would be wrapped up in his bright silver strands. The thought of him doing anything to make you feel this immodest nearly had you drooling. His dexterous, strong hands taking ownership of your pussy, showing you just how accommodating he could be.

His name left your lips in a desperate plea as you finally found a rhythm that suited you. You felt as if your body was no longer your own as you continued your descent in the search of pleasure. You slowly worked yourself, wanting to savor this feeling. Your breaths were loud and labored as you arched your back slightly, searching for a path closer to release. Your mind replaying every word Geralt had uttered to you since you’d first met, clawing for any semblance of relief.

Your movements came to a screeching halt upon hearing the deep voice you’d come to know so well—now outside of your thoughts. You snapped your eyes open quickly, seeing his smug face staring back at you as you jumped to cover yourself as much as you could.

“Am I interrupting something?” He cocked an eyebrow.

You gasped, hot shame bubbling in your chest as you fumbled through any words you could get out. “Geralt—I’m s-so sorry, I really—”.

He slowly started to untuck and unbutton his black shirt. Your mouth went dry as more of his skin was exposed, effectively silencing your babble. The raised markings of his scars were covered in a light sheen of sweat that looked absolutely delectable. You could feel your pupils dilating, your mouth opening slightly without your control.

He smirked at the look on your face, tossing his shirt to the side. “Would you like some help?” He gave you an appreciative once-over to emphasize his proposition.

Your eyes widened as you prayed to every god that this wasn’t some twisted trickery. You nodded, fearing that your voice would betray you.

He stripped himself of his boots and the rest of his clothing. He worked quickly and gracefully, tossing the garments without a care as he walked closer to the tub. While you were obviously curious, you avoided any glances south of his abdomen, feeling too bashful to even look. Moving to get in the bath, he sat down in front of you. Now face to face, you were curious as to where he was going with this—before he hauled you up to sit on the rim of the bathtub completely emerged from the water, now completely at the mercy of his gaze. You were completely unveiled to him and you couldn’t cease the nerves that flared up in response.

He kneeled back down in the water and you quickly moved to cover you breasts. But before you could successfully shield them from his view, he moved one of your hands to grip the tub and the other to grasp onto his hair. He maneuvered your legs to rest over his shoulders, putting you on full display to his hungry eyes as his huge hands held you steady by your thighs. His dominant movements, situating you how he’d like caused a heavy pulsing feeling to arise in your already glistening cherry.

He kissed each of your thighs passionately, sucking marks into the skin with lips ghosting over each valley of skin—just shy of where you needed him most. The outline of your pubic bone, your navel; using his tongue to explore the plains and ridges of your body.

“Gods, I’ve been waiting to eat this sweet cunt since the moment I cut you from that tree,” His voice somehow got rougher in this moment, soaked in the intoxication of lust, and you could swear you almost fainted. But before you had time to burn out, you were lit afire once again as his tongue licked a long stripe up your aching center, wrapping his lips around your clit as he reached the bundle.

Your grip on his hair tightened as you let out such a guttural sound, urging him on as he made work of your sensitivity. You were covered in the wetness from your bath and, now that you were out of the water, your body felt slightly chilled which was a delicious contrast from the aching heat of your core as he devoured you. Not missing one morsel.

He pleasured you with such eagerness and paid close attention to each of your sounds, repeating movements that granted the noisiest and most reactionary ones. The obscene musing of slurps, licks, and Geralt’s moans had you seeing stars. Each time your body would pull away from him in shock, he’d simply pull you closer by your thighs, grinding you onto his face.

“You taste like heaven. How does that feel, little elf?” He questioned, golden eyes staring into your own. “Hmm?”

He was so smug, but you didn’t have it in you to be even the least bit annoyed. Because with his skillful tongue, he deserved to be smug.

You whined at the separation, desperate for the release you’ve been denied your whole life. You could barely handle another second without it. “Please, Geralt—” you nearly sobbed, panting in between words, “I’ve never felt this way before. Please let me finish on your tongue. I want it so bad,”.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyes glazing over in desperation at the utterly wrecked look on your face. “Anything you want, little elf” his warm breath ghosted over your dripping cunt as he spoke, “I’ll give you anything,”.

He pulled you impossibly closer and licked into your center, using his nose to nudge and stimulate your bundle. His groans as he devoured you reverberated through your center, overtaking all of your senses as you neared the edge.

Geralt enclosed his lips around your clit, sucking it feverishly with his tongue—and your vision went white. You let out the most broken sound as your insides bursted. You tugged relentlessly on the hair that you assumed he regretted offering up to you, but his groans of pleasure actually made you question that hypothesis.

Your breaths were deep and long as you looked down at him. He was still staring up at you with a look of pride—not cockiness—like he was excited to be able to share that impure moment with you. You moved your thighs from his shoulders and lowered yourself back into the tub, pulling him in for a kiss.

Your first kiss. And it was perfect. Although the order of events seemed a bit backwards, you couldn’t have hoped for anything better.

You could taste yourself on his tongue as he pulled you closer to sit on his lap in the water. His hardened member pressed against your stomach, so you decided it was his turn. You wrapped your fingers around his thick cock, all shyness from earlier dissipating, as you paid close attention to the tip. You pumped him slowly, slowly adding more pressure as you continued.

He inhaled a deep breath, almost as if he was holding himself back. “I’m going to take you to bed now, little elf” he enunciated his statement with a quick peck, “only if you’ll have me, that is—”.

You rolled your eyes at his chivalry. “Take me to bed then, Witcher,”.

You squealed in joyful shock at his show of strength as he quickly lifted you both up from the tub, water now cascading from your bodies and onto the surrounding floor. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you simply giggled.

You both fell onto the bed with water still dripping from your bodies, soaking through the sheets. You were a quilt of limbs, wrapped up in one another as your mouths communicated longing with deep, passionate kisses. While he was your only kiss, you could somehow tell that he tasted better than any others.

He worshipped your body with his hands, offering you the loving touch that you’d never felt. Whispering praise of how good you were doing and how lovely you were and how much he’d wanted you.

When he first entered you, he kept it jarringly slow—wanting to avoid any pain—but after he’d opened you up so well, there was only mild discomfort at first. Giving into your begs, he fucked you into the sheets with your prayers of more. You clawed at his back and he wished you would dig harder, so the memory of your first time together could scar and overwrite the brutalities that currently littered his spine.

You squeezed him so perfectly and brought him such euphoria. He never wanted to leave the warmth of your divine center, each thrust bringing you both closer to your end.

“C’mon, little elf. Come for your Witcher,”. Your Witcher was what did you in. You climaxed around his thick cock, the pulsing of your orgasm sending him over the hill right along with you. Both of you unleashing the most primal noises into the skin of the other; a shared moment of vulnerability between two creatures alike. This moment in which both of your worlds tilted in the most complementary way; a change that could be felt in the atmosphere.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly as you came down, grounding yourself in his slow breathing.

Once you’d both gotten cleaned up, you curled up in bed with Geralt as you laid your head on his naked pectoral. You studied him for quite a while as he played with the damp strands of your hair, battling sleep yet again, trying your best to lengthen this moment as much as you could.

But, of course, being the observant man he is, he quickly noticed your eyelids growing heavier.

“Rest up, little elf,” the smallest simper graced his eyes as he repeated his words from the first day in the cottage, “I’ll still be here when you wake up,”.

You closed your eyes with a ghost of a smile.

fin

A/N: Here’s my first crack at a fic for the Witcher (first of many, I’m hoping)!! I really hope you guys like it!! I’m not actually finished the series yet, so sorry if I get anything terribly wrong (I’m just trying so hard to savor it since it’s not back until 2021). I’m brushing back up on fanfic etiquette and writing style since I’m just getting back into the swing of things, so any feedback would be treasured!!! Let me know what you think, babies!

I used to have a tag list, but since it’s been so long since I was posting consistently, I’ve decided to abandon it--so if you wanna be tagged in my stuff, just drop by my ask box. I’d love to have you and I sincerely hope you didn’t hate this, ha! x g

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fic #reader insert #geralt smut #geralt of rivia smut

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thatshiscigar · 4 years

Text

Future Business Partners

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Request: Can I request a rafe x reader where the reader’s dad is business partners with Ward and they want to show their oldest kids (rafe and reader) what they do and they meet through a meeting at the club while golfing and maybe the reader isn’t great at golf so rafe helps her and it’s fluff!’

Warnings: mention of drinking, usual rafe/ward dynamic

Word Count: 1.9k

Masterlist

Let me know if you would like to be added to my OBX taglist!

Your family had known the Cameron’s for some time now, seeing as Ward and your father were long time business partners, but somehow you never really got to meet them. They were like this entity that never left your life. You knew Ward and your father were very close, and the Ward also had a son, who was around your age. Your dad told you little things about the business when you were younger, but nothing important enough to hold onto for your teen years. But, your father decided it was time for you to seriously learn about the business. You were his oldest, and he was confident you would be a great leader to honor his name.

You spent a majority of your life hearing about the Camerons, and the young man that was supposedly going to be running the business one day. You of course had seen pictures of the Cameron boy, and you can’t lie, he was easy on the eyes. You sure as hell wouldn’t mind working with him in the future. But first, you had to meet him. Your father and Ward has organized a day where they would showcase the next faces of their businesses. You, your father, Ward, and Rafe were set to meet at a country club for a day filled with drinks, “adult talk”, and stupid club games. You can’t say you were excited, but you sure weren’t dreading it.

You and your father arrived at the country club in a black Range Rover. Employees rushed to your passenger side door to open it for you, and you stepped out, glad to be breathing in some fresh air. You and your dad walked to the gate of the club, meeting the two Cameron men there. You all shared hellos, and handshakes, greeting each other and making good first impressions. When you got to Rafe, your actions faltered. You stuttered your hello, taking in his beautiful appearance. Rafe was certainly taller and more handsome than the family photos on Facebook led you to believe. He took your hand in his.

“Pleasure to finally meet you!” You said cheerfully, hoping to make him forget about your previous awkward introduction. Rafe brought your hand up to his lips, lightly kissing it.

“The pleasures mine, Ms. (Y/L/N).” He flashed you one of his signature smirks, making your insides melt.

Rafe knew he was going to make you his. He liked a woman in charge, and if you were going to be the next head-woman of your dad’s company, he didn’t know how he would be able to handle you being his business partner. The way your sundress hugged your hips gave him way too many ideas.

“Alright, well let’s get this show on the road! Mr. (Y/L/N) and I will be at the bar, and you two will be playing golf. Rafe, go show (Y/N) to the golf clubs.” Ward made authoritative eye contact with Rafe. It almost made Rafe flinch, like he was scared of him. It was definitely a contrast from the cocky and cool Rafe you had just seen.

“Yes sir,” Rafe said lowly, as if he didn’t want to anger his father. You knew that there was something wrong with their dynamic, but, this was your first time meeting them, what did you know?

Rafe led you to the golf clubs. There were so many to pick from, you didn’t know where to even start. Rafe picked up on your cluelessness after he selected his pick.

“Need some help?” His original, flirtatious tone was back. The question pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to whip your head around to his direction. He was leaning on his clubs, the sun hitting his face just right.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you started.

“I just don’t really know how to pick out the right ones.” Admitting you needed help was not an easy task for you, but something about Rafe made you feel safe, like you could be yourself around him, and he wouldn’t judge you for it.

“Have you ever been golfing before?” He questioned. You shook your head no

“What?” He sounded astonished.

“You’ve lived in Figure Eight all your life, and you’ve never gone golfing?”

“Nope, not once,” you agreed.

“Well then, it looks like you’re going to need a teacher.” He shot you that smirk again. Your stomach fluttered at the idea of Rafe teaching you. Excitement and nerves blended themselves together, leaving you clueless as to what you felt. Rafe helped you pick what clubs you needed. He asked you what your dominant hand was and how tall you were, and that seemed to be all the criteria he needed to get clubs that fit perfectly in your hands. You slung the golf bag over your shoulder, Rafe following suit, and went to the golf carts. You guys hopped in, and started the cart. You were both sitting very close to each other, and whenever your thigh bumped against Rafe’s, you saw his grip tighten on the wheel, almost turning his knuckles white. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the effect you had on the boy.

“So,” Rafe said, cutting the silence.

“If your dads anything like mine, all he does is work, like, all the time.” He looked to you for a moment before looking back to where he was going. You thought for a moment before responding.

“Yeah! I mean, it’s all for the family’s well being though, I don’t mind it, I guess.” You lowered your voice at the last part.

“Right,” Rafe replied, same tone as you.

You were lying. Of course you wished you dad wasn’t so occupied with work. You missed him, and all he did was work. He let it swallow him whole. Even fun little outings like this were related to work. You didn’t want your future to look like this. You were sick of it, but you kept your mouth shut. Your father was so proud of his work and he couldn’t wait to pass it on to his pride and joy, you. Rafe knew your emotions, without you having to voice them. He understood your thoughts and struggles that came with having a life like this. You guys arrived at the course and Rafe parked the cart.

“Alright,” Rafe started as you guys reached the starting point.

“Your first lesson starts now.” A cheesy smile crawled onto his lips. He moved to show you how to correctly hold the club.

“Ok, this hand goes here, and this one here, like this.” He placed his hands on top of yours, his arms wrapping around your torso.

“Like this?” You turned your head to him, and you could’ve sworn you saw Rafe’s eyes flick down to your lips. He smiled.

“Yeah, like that,” he said over a breath. He cleared his throat, and stepped away from you, regaining his composure.

“Now just,” he mimicked your stance.

“Swing.” Rafe fake-swung.

You focused on the ball, raising your arms in the air. You followed his actions, and you swung.

“Attagirl,” Rafe said sharply.

The ball went flying, the both of you intently watching it go. The ball landed close to your target, and you bust out into cheers.

“That was good, right?” You half-cheered, half-questioned.

“Yeah! That was great (Y/N)!” He reached out for a high five, which you delivered. It was a short touch, it was basically over as it started, but Rafe wanted more. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to someone who understood what he was going through. Someone who could listen to his problems and relate. He needed to be with you.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of stolen glances, lingering touches, and many, many, flirts. He couldn’t get enough of your smile whenever he cheered you on, or when you got the ball in the hole, or when your hands grazed over each others as you walked together. He never wanted your smile to leave your face.

The day was winding down, the sun was setting at the crickets started singing their nightly song. You didn’t want the day to end, you had finally met someone who didn’t wave off your problems as “rich girl problems”. You found someone who understood.

As you and Rafe drove back to the club on the golf cart, he rested his hand on your thigh. Your eyes darted towards his hand, then you looked up at him.

“Y’know, I had fun today.” He gave a light squeeze to your skin, sending shocks all over your body.

“I did too,” you smiled at him. He quickly looked at you, and shot you a smile back. His thumb started to draw irregular figures on your thigh. You got used to his presence there, and your nerves cooled. In a quick burst of confidence, you grabbed his hand from its spot. You interlocked your fingers with his.

Rafe was always sleeping around, and had felt the embrace and touch of many girls, but none quite felt like this. Just a little hand-hold had him weak. He had only known you for a day, but you felt like home to him, and he never wanted to leave. Rafe slowed the speed of the cart, just to prolong the time you two had together before you got back to the club.

The moment Rafe had dreaded was here. He pulled into the club, and parked the cart. You were still holding hands, neither of you wanting to move. You stroked your thumb along his knuckles before you started speaking.

“When am I going to see you again?” Your voice was low. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Any time you want, princess,” Rafe brought your hand up to his lips, just as he had done earlier that day.

A tension had arose from the simple action, and it was just a matter of time til one of you acted on in. Rafe couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to kiss you. He cupped your cheek, and when you didn’t move away from him, he knew it was okay. He eagerly leaned in, not saying to waste another moment. You gladly welcomed it, kissing him back with the same passion and need. Your arms moved to drape over his shoulders, while his hands found your waist, bringing you closer to him. You broke apart for air, resting your forehead against his. You let out a giggle at this whole situation. You just met this dude today, but here you were, making out with him in a golf cart. But you didn’t care. You liked him, a lot. He made your insides turn to mush and he made your knees weak.

Rafe had been waiting for someone like you for a long time. Dealing with his fathers harsh and manipulative teaching was getting too much for him to handle, then you happened to pop into his life. He didn’t plan on letting you know, but you helped him out that day a lot more than you know.

Rafe had found his one, and if you were going to be his business partner in the future, he definitely wanted to take over Cameron Construction.

Taglist: @supremestarkey @lovelymaybankk @blueeyedbesson @whormotional @classywaves @sexytholland @danaerekat @em753 @babyhoneystvles @angelic-boca

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #outer banks netflix #obx fluff #rafe obx #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron

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darkestangel1326 · 4 years

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Dia de los Muertos Obey Me Headcanons featuring my self-insert MC!

BACKGROUND: My self-insert MC (MC here fo short) is Latina, specifically Mexican, though she only started embracing her culture in college

-Dia de los Muertos soon becomes an important holiday for her when she hears about the three deaths (mentioned towards the end).

-after learning about Lilith and the deep wounds her death left on her brothers, MC has one mission - to remind the brothers that Lilith isn’t dead

-MC hopes it can bring joy and heal their grief. She encourages the brothers to decorate the ofrenda with Lilith's favorite things

-(they don't put food out until the last day since MC would be paranoid about Beel eating it - she explains to the brothers that eating the food before the last day is generally frowned upon and bad luck. They all just look at her and wonder if she forgot she was talking to the 7 Avatars of Devildom)

-they keep the ofrenda (alter) in the living room, to keep Lilith involved in their day to day lives

-Levi draws a picture of Lilith for the ofrenda - he's also really good at making papel picado too

-(MC gushes about his artistic talent and Levi.exe stops working momentarily)

-Asmo brings white and lightly scented candles - a pleasant smell of Lily of the Valley

-Asmo also becomes obsessed with día de los muertos makeup (Catrina makeup) and learns to create intricate designs

-(MC is totally jealous of this fact btw. Eventually she asks for her face to be painted on the last day to which he ecstatically agrees)

-(though, MC reminds him of the roots behind the makeup constantly, since it’s not just a makeup style but a traditional aspect of the holiday)

-Satan finds that making paper marigolds (Cempasúchil) to be relaxing and gives him a chance to explore 3D art

-Satan’s attention to detail makes the flowers (Cempasúchil) look real - he even makes flower petals to spread around the ofrenda

-Beel and Belphie collect Lilith's favorite things - they recruit Simeon, Luke & Barbatos in hopes of getting Celestial Realm ingredients and sweets for the last day. They also try to collect some human world items, including pan de muerto ("dead bread"), to put on the ofrenda on the last day

-Belphie would make the sugar skulls for everyone and everyone would be in charge of decorating theirs.

-Beel is the exception, since he kept eating his before he finished decorating it

-Lucifer gets the frame for Lilith's drawing/portrait - a beautiful gold and black one with a small angel trinket

-when no one's looking, Lucifer adds a CD to the alter (you know it would be a CD/record and not a USB) - the CD is a recording of the song he used to play for Lilith, Beel and Belphie when they were younger

-MC is constantly changing the water on the ofrenda and helps everyone put their contributions together/celebrate the holiday respectfully

-Mammon would be kind of stuck on what to contribute - it seemed like everyone took care of it all themselves - but MC would remind him that when people traditionally eat at the cemetery or within proximity of their alters, it can be emotionally draining and a little awkward too, especially that first year

-Mammon asks MC why, then, would anyone celebrate such a sad holiday

-“Because, Dia de los Muertos isn’t about death. It’s about celebrating the dead’s life. By honoring and remembering them, they never fully die.”

-Mammon thought MC was just being cheesy. Why would keeping Lilith’s memory alive mean anything? Still, MC’s words did make him reflect on some memories he has with Lilith

-when the final day arrives, they all gather in the living room with food and wine, set up like an indoor picnic but a little unsure how to start. The brothers all turn to MC for guidance

-MC tells them about the idea of the three deaths

“In our tradition, people die three deaths. The first death is when our bodies cease to function; when our hearts no longer beat of their own accord, when our gaze no longer has depth or weight, when the space we occupy slowly loses its meaning.

The second death comes when the body is lowered into the ground, returned to mother earth, out of sight.

The third death, the most definitive death, is when there is no one left alive to remember us.”

-after MC’s speech, the brothers realize why this holiday is so important and why MC really pushed them to celebrate it this year - to show them that Lilith isn’t dead. Their memories of her have kept her alive this whole time.

-(they get kind of quiet, struggling not to become emotional and cry. Some were more successful than others)

-MC’s speech and advice to Mammon a few days ago makes sense to him now - she was trying to tell him that Lilith was not dead, so long as there were people (or demons) out there to remember her: their memories kept her from dying.

-That’s when Mammon decided what his contribution would be - to help keep her memory alive and their spirits high

-after they all had a break (to dry their eyes), they started to pass around the wine and food

-Mammon would bring up Lilith stories whenever he thought his brothers were getting too depressed - but he would recite the stories partly wrong so his brothers wouldn't notice that he was actually doing it to cheer them up

-MC notices immediately and smiles at him every time (though she takes a sip of wine to hide it a few times)

-at one point, Mammon looks up at MC as she smiles at her wine and he blushes (Asmo’s Catrina makeup made her look especially beautiful, ok? Not like she isn’t already beautiful but-)

#obey me #om #om!#obey me headcanon #obey me brothers #obey me/dia de los muertos headcanons #obey me lilith #kind of late but here you go!#don't mind me I'm just trying to survive this night

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betweenthetimeandsound · 3 years

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Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (250-241)

(Author's note: I intended to have the list ready by 1 September, but I was a bit lousy in compiling the final spots on there. As a result, they will seem a bit shoddy, but there will be good summaries, I promise! And there will be honorable mentions soon enough.)

#250: Harel Skaat -- Milim (Israel 2010)

“האור נרדם, דמעות של דם, שורפות לי בגרון, ידית שרוטה, תקרה שמוטה, כשאני שר לך את השיר האחרון” “The light fell asleep, tears of blood scorch my throat Scratched handle, sloping ceiling When I sing to you the last song” Curiously, I already knew of Harel Skaat before hearing of Eurovision: I listened to a few of his earlier tracks when I found him singing with another Israeli pop artist, Dor Daniel. I particularly liked משנו ממני and כמה עוד אפשר. Milim is a requiem for what was once lost—the presence of one whom the narrator really loves. The imagery used in this song adds to the melancholic feel—a classic ballad of sorts, with a lot of emotion. And the performance from Harel was very good, even though he butchered a note at the end. Maybe it was the pretty blue lights that really accompanied the mood of the song. Personal ranking: 7th/39 Actual ranking: 14th/25 GF (grand final) in Oslo

#249: Tina Karol -- Show Me Your Love (Ukraine 2006)

"You see it in my eyes, my heart is on fire Don’t hide your love away, don’t wait another day" As mentioned in the note, I had a hard time determining the last few spots on my list. I went through the results of both sorters and picked what I felt in the time. Show Me Your Love is a bit odd, but with the accordion intro striking right away, it deserves a place here! While an overly simple song with stilted lyrics, Show Me Your Love is still a bunch of fun. From the boppy beat to Tina's infectious presence on stage, one can't help but smile as this comes along. And there was a jump rope right in the middle of the performance--never change, Ukraine. :) Personal ranking: 5th/37 Actual ranking: 7th/24 GF in Athens

#248: Alan Sorrenti -- Non so che darei (Italy 1980)

“Non so che darei per fermare il tempo Per dormire al tuo fianco solo una notte Non so che darei per sentirti mia Per tenerti vicina solo una notte” “I don’t know what I can give to stop the time To sleep beside you only for one night I don’t know what I can give To take you close to me only for one night” Recently, I find myself humming to this a lot, because it's so calming and nice. I particularly like Alan’s vocals in this song! He really conveys the pain of losing (or on the verge of losing) the one he loves, expressed by the melancholic lyrics. Together, they form a song which is just as beautiful, if not more so than the winner of its year. Despite its 6th place, it became a continent-wide hit, which was quite deserved (just like a good number of Italian Eurovision songs over the years, haha)! Alongside that, Non so che darei also had the only black conductor at Eurovision while there was an orchestra, along with a couple of women playing fake guitars. For some reason, I imagined they were holding umbrellas instead, but I clearly remembered wrong... Personal ranking: 3rd/19 Actual ranking: 6th/19 in Den Haag

#247: Sanja Vucic ZAA -- Goodbye (Shelter) (Serbia 2016)

"I lick my wounds So that I can keep on fighting" Another last-minute choice, but this is an important song, both in 2016 and now, unfortunately. Despite the advances in women's rights over the decades, domestic violence still persists across the world. Goodbye (Shelter) tells the story through someone who's struggling to get out of a toxic relationship, and there's a mix of vulnerability and strength in the lyrics. Of course, lyrics don't make up the whole song; the music also conveys the story through a dramatic build and beautiful strings. Considering the 2016 contest, it does get a bit lost amongst the crowd, but it feels like a musical number in all the right ways. Also, the performance told the story well, and Sanja is a wonderful singer (she also sings a cover of one all-time favorite you will see towards the end, hehe). I even would shed a tear at points. Personal ranking: 8th/42 Actual ranking: 18th/26 GF in Stockholm

#246: Remedios Amaya--Quien Maneja Mi Barca? (Spain 1983)

“El verde de tus ojos verdes, mírame, Que mira que yo te mire, mírame, Que mira que yo te mire” “The green of your green eyes, look at me, Look at me, so I can look at you, look at me Look at me, so I can look at you” One of those songs that can be defined as an acquired taste--the people who love it enjoy its subversive status in the Eurovision canon for being unapologetically Spanish, while the people who hate it will dismiss it as just a bunch of noise. This is a song which is part of the “New Flamenco” genre popularized since the 1960s, which mixes up flamenco music with other genres, such as rock or electronic music. Quien Maneja mi Barca ‘s studio cut has nebulous lyrics combined with an electronic beat, which is alright at best. I found it quite hollow and quite forgettable there. I prefer it in its orchestral form, which fuses synths and concert instruments fantastically. It definitely amps up the drama with Remedios’ voice, and made me appreciate this very distinct entry. Personal ranking: 6th/20 Actual ranking: Joint last (with Turkey) in Munich

#245: Marianna Efstratiou - To diko sou asteri (Greece 1989)

"Μα στο βραδινό τον ουρανό το δικό σου αστέρι ψάξε βρες Γιατί οι σκιές στο πρώτο φως μοιάζουνε φοβίες παιδικές" "But in the evening sky, search and find your own star Because the shadows in the first light seem to be childish phobias" While To diko sou asteri sounds a bit safe in the grand scheme of things, I think its lack of pretension is what makes this little song shine. The lyrics encourage one to find their star and encourage the listener to pursue what they believe in without any fear. Marianna's vocals also add to this song in that they're quietly hopeful and sweet. Also, for some reason, I got some "True Colors" vibes while listening to it every time, despite there being some differences. Both have this relaxing, calm vibe to help the listener on their journey through life. Then again, True Colors doesn't have some nice flute flourishes throughout the song, haha. Personal ranking: 4th/22 Actual ranking: 9th/22 at Lausanne

#244: Dina -- Amor d'agua fresca (Portugal 1992)

"Peguei, trinquei e meti-te na cesta Ris e dás-me a volta à cabeça" "I picked you, bit into you and put you in the basket You laughed and made my head spin" 1992 is one of the most average years at Eurovision--after the chaos that was 1991, it seems like the songs and production sought something safer, and the whole thing felt really bland. Amor d'agua fresca is anything but dull--it's bubbly and sweet, with quite relaxed atmosphere. The combination of instruments--particular the guitar in the beginning and Dina's vocals-- really help with conveying a mood. But after that, we have the lustful lyrics, describing a romance through enjoying different fruits, which was quite different for me... But hey, different makes things quite a bit better in life! Personal ranking: 4th/23 Actual ranking: 17th/23 in Malmo

#243: Lucia -- Él (Spain 1982)

"Él me perdona porque es un pedazo de buen pan Y me trata con paciencia Sé que no debo ser cruel Que le debo confesar que él a mí, no me interesa" "He forgives me because he’s a scrap of good bread And he treats me with patience I know that I shouldn’t be cruel That I should tell him I’m not interested in him" One interesting thing about me is that I'm a sucker for tango music. There's a sense of drama when one listens to it, and even more so when people get on the dance floor. While I've only danced it a few times, when one does it right, the connection between two people is quite powerful, and you could fall right into a dream. El definitely amps up the drama--Lucia is in a conflicted relationship, but she plays the "player" role quite well. It's very flirty and seductive, and you could immerse yourself in the story. While the dancing was a bit too much for a stage as small as 1982's, it's still quite fun to see. Also, it was sent as a way of supporting Argentina in the Falkland Wars, which is quite interesting... Personal ranking: 4th/18 Actual ranking: 10th/18 in Harrogate

#242: Gabriela Gunčíková -- I Stand (Czech Republic 2016)

"I am thanking you, you made me You are my air, I’ll always care" For those who have an aversion to ballads, why is that? I find it annoying because there can be ones where they can touch you and tell a story. Life can't always be happy bops with heavy beats (or it's because they don't really inhabit my musical atmosphere most of the time...) I Stand sounds like a derivative ballad sonically, but it carries itself with such grace and grandeur. The instruments add to the drama of the song, which thanks a special person for their help in their life (though the lyrics above can come off as a bit co-dependent...or so I've heard) And Gabriela delivers this with the necessary composure and grace the song desires. It feels like a highlight track from a musical--one where two characters meet again and the narrator wants to recognize the latter's good deeds before they're gone forever. Thanks to that, the Czech Republic gets their first grand final appearance (though getting 0 televote points once there was harsh...) Personal ranking: 7th/42 Actual ranking: 25th/26 GF in Stockholm

#241: t.A.T.u -- Ne ver, ne boysia (Russia 2003)

“Кто-то понты а кто-то маньяк, Кто-то как ты, кто-то как я.” “Someone's a psycho and someone's a maniac, Someone like you, someone like me” If I’m right, I may have heard this song without knowing this was from Eurovision. It was because there was a period between middle school and high school where I love t.A.T.u’s music, and this was one of their singles. Ne Ver Ne Bosia is compelling and dark, with an interplay about the people around them using an old Soviet proverb as the title. It’s gripping and intense, and brings the listener into this crazy and mad world they're enveloped in. The performance, on the other hand, almost couldn't have been worse. The vocals were really ropey (especially from Lena, who would usually be trusted to help Yulia), and it didn't come over as a great listening experience. While I love it, t.A.T.u were really lucky they competed in the televote era, as they would've been struck down hard by the juries. (and the worst part: there will be a couple of poorly-performed entries which will be quite high on this list...) Personal ranking: 6th/26 Actual ranking: 3rd/26 in Riga

#esc 250 #esc top 250 #eurovision song contest #esc israel #esc italy #esc 2021 #esc serbia #esc portugal #esc greece #esc russia #esc czech republic #vintage eurovision #three minutes to eternity #esc ukraine

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

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Chan Lyric Drabble #2 (SKZ Countdown)

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Chan (SKZ)

Warning: mentions of smut and language

Song Lyric Prompt: “Heart full of equity, you’re an asset,” Intentions (Justin Bieber ft. Quavo)

It was hard to pretend like I was interested in Chan’s tedious dinner conversation, especially when it involved his Real Estate Brokerage.

Ultimately, business affairs were primarily Chan’s specialty, and he was doing a marvelous job at playing the part of the intimidating CEO who wanted to land an important deal between rival companies. Most of the time, I could stay at home and let Chan attend to such frivolous demands, but he was desperate to sign his name on this particular contract. For whatever reason, that meant he needed my help tonight with an older gentleman who considered Chan with an air of hostility.

I smirked because this man obviously didn’t know that my husband could turn into a whining mess whenever I touched his cock beneath the sheets.

In any case, his newest conquest required my appearance because he wanted to make himself seem more “honest,” and I was forced to sit through a gourmet five-course meal with my husband and the businessman across the table who had also brought his much younger girlfriend. Unfortunately, it was obvious that his girlfriend wasn’t attracted to him, especially since she insisted on flirting with Chan for most of the night. “Mr. Kim, I can assure you that we have very important plans for your company,” Chan said, tipping his wine glass in the other man’s direction.

“I don’t doubt your intentions,” Mr. Kim grumbled. “But the company has been in our family name for decades.”

“You’re leaving it in good hands,” Chan assured him.

Meanwhile, I was glaring at Mr. Kim’s girlfriend because she was still staring at Chan’s arms. “I know what you do, Mr. Bang,” Mr. Kim said. “You strip those companies down and rebuild them into something more fitting of your image.”

“My image?” Chan repeated with a smirk. “What do you mean by that, Mr. Kim?”

Mr. Kim chuckled. “I don’t mean to insinuate anything against your reputation.”

“I’d still like to hear,” Chan said, and I swallowed hard around my food when I noticed that his hand had found its way to my thigh.

“Well, we can start with your stocks,” Mr. Kim said, but I was suddenly even less interested in his monotonous voice, especially when Chan was watching me from the corner of his eye.

I took a deep breath, trying to force his hand above the table, but Chan was rather strong these days. Instead, he brought his fingers closer to where a tiny patch of arousal had formed on the outside of my panties. Subsequently, I was forced to hold my tongue because this wasn’t exactly an appropriate situation to start an unprovoked advance, but I couldn’t protest Chan’s touches while Mr. Kim sat on the other side talking about mortgage payments.

However, when one of Chan’s fingers anchored itself around the waistband of my black satin thong, I grabbed onto the edge of the table in desperation. I turned to look at Chan, narrowing my eyes because he was really pushing his luck. Unfortunately, my husband had chosen to ignore my wilting gaze, and he didn’t hesitate to dip one finger beneath the barrier separating my throbbing heat from his hand. I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to moan because Mr. Kim and his snooty girlfriend were paying way too much attention, but it was hard because Chan knew how to entice the best reactions from his wife.

I held tightly to his wrist, feeling two of his fingers reach deep inside, crooking against my smooth walls, and I wasn’t convinced that Chan had any respect for this businessman. My gaze fell downwards, watching his movements beneath the fabric of the skirt that I had chosen for tonight’s affairs. Of course, I never imagined that Chan would take advantage of an inopportune situation like this, but my husband never ceased to surprise me when he was trying to exert his dominance.

“What do you think, Mr. Bang?”

Chan finally pulled his hand away, resuming his business-like expression. “I think you have an uncanny understanding for business, Mr. Kim.”

The man in question smirked like he was ignorant of the fact that his previous explanation had just been ignored. “As for the contract...”

Chan nodded, but I could tell that he was more than ready to move on because he wanted to finalize the deal. “I’ll have my secretary call you about signing the contract.”

“I look forward to it,” Mr. Kim said, glancing at his girlfriend who was swooning over Chan without an ounce of shame. “Let’s get out of here.”

The girl pouted, but she reluctantly obeyed Mr. Kim, leaving me alone with Chan who was already loosening the tie around his neck. “Charming,” I noted once they were both out of earshot.

He grinned. “I’m glad he’s being cooperative. I can’t stand that old bastard.”

“I couldn’t tell!” I gasped with feigned sarcasm. “I was too busy trying to help your honorable image.”

Chan shook his head, and his hand returned to my thigh, giving it a good squeeze. “You didn’t have fun?”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you talking about your inappropriate behavior?”

“You give me confidence,” Chan said with an inappropriate wink.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.”

Chan chuckled, leaning in close so that I could practically taste his cologne. “I’m gonna do much worse when we get home, baby girl.”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #bang chan drabbles #stray kids bang chan #skz smut #bang chan smut

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loruleanheart · 4 years

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Desired Fate, Chapter 2

Read on ff.net

Read on AO3

Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, moved about her bedchambers. It was a vast room with grey stonework walls and old furniture that had been in the royal family for generations. One corner held a grand writing desk where she often carried out her research into ancient relics late into the night. Affixed to the wall above were her most treasured research notes.

The princess was dressed for bed, her thick golden hair in a protective side braid, but she wasn’t feeling too tired, her nerves shot by the day’s earlier events. It was the first moment of rest she’d had all day. She had been constantly in the presence of Impa and the knight her father had assigned as her guard. The knight, who she’d learned was named Link, was odd. He barely spoke a word, yet Zelda couldn't disregard that he had saved her that day when a large Guardian that had been unearthed at the Breach of Demise had activated somehow without warning. This, along with the increasing number of monsters throughout the kingdom made their trip to the Royal Tech Lab an arduous one.

Zelda turned over many thoughts in her mind. How the little Guardian that seemed so attached to her had traveled from a Hyrule of ruin. Her father had seemed so vexed by the Guardian’s appearance, although Zelda was not surprised that he would try to discern whether the Guardian could be trusted. The little one did feel somehow familiar in a vague way…. Not to mention, it brought with it a look into the future of the destruction the Calamity would bring.

A heaviness was descending upon the princess. Impa’s sister, Purah had managed to extract visual data from the little Guardian’s memory - true to life images that showed what the future would hold. Zelda had taken a cursory look through a few images but had quickly become overwhelmed. This was the destruction that would befall Hyrule should she not be able to harness her divine power. But, perhaps the pictures might also hold clues on how the Calamity could be averted.

She powered on the Sheikah Slate, wanting to give the visual data a more thorough analysis before turning in for the night. She scrolled through the horrific images of destruction, this time not having others around whom she had to put on a brave, composed face for. As much as she loathed wallowing in self-pity, she had at least managed not to break down earlier in front of the others. The princess had sensed the understanding of her plight in Impa’s voice earlier as they looked through the images together.

Not only was Hyrule Castle pictured, but the destruction seemed to be widespread. Akkala Citadel... Fort Hateno…. The Divine Beasts…. All in ruin or corrupted somehow, and the fate of the entire kingdom and its people were bearing down on her.

I will not allow this to come to pass… I’ll do everything I can to stop this… But without the power, how will it ever be enough?

Despair and dread were starting to set in as it often did more and more over the years. She’d already tried everything she could up until now, and still, the power that should have come so naturally seemed to be impossible to find within herself. And the longer her power remained dormant, the more frustrated and cold her father grew. Zelda shut her eyes, holding her hand over her face, trying to calm herself, but it was too late as the tears she’d been holding back for hours broke forth. She quietly sobbed, hoping to not alert the attention of any of her attendants who might hear her cries. She scrolled to the next image and then there was not a location or a Divine Beast, but a picture of a strange man and she went silent. Her green eyes moved over the image. There on the Sheikah Slate was a hooded man in a tattered purple robe, but she could tell he was very handsome, even if not by typical Hylian standards. She couldn’t help but stop and stare. He was very pale and had dark, collarbone length hair. There was a long braid that hung in front of his left eye and was tucked behind his ear, and another that was decorated with gold beads.

He wore a gold circlet and a thick gold collar that draped over his shoulders that reminded her of jewelry worn by Gerudo royalty, although this man clearly wasn’t Gerudo. No male had been born to that tribe in ages. There was an oddity about the circlet though, in that the red stone had what appeared to be a stylized yellow iris painted on it - sort of symbolizing a third eye.

Who was this mysterious man? He must have been on the slate for a reason. The slate’s screen went black, and she realized she’d zoned out. Her mind was flooded with so many questions and speculations. Could someone like him really be out there, somewhere? He looked more like he belonged in some distant past foreign to her. Were they destined to meet? Should she seek him out? She didn’t know, nor did she know how to raise the subject to anyone else. Her father, dear sweet Hylia, her father…. Would almost certainly chastise for wasting her time with images discovered on Sheikah technology which had been banned up until the recent past instead of dedicating every waking moment in prayer to unlock her dormant power. But to Zelda, this felt as crucial as researching relics, perhaps even more so. And then it occurred to Zelda who she could confide in - Urbosa. Based on the jewelry the man wore, maybe she might know something.

And just like that, the heaviness that had pushed her to the edges of despair had lifted, even if only a little bit. Zelda laid the slate on her nightstand before climbing into her stately canopy bed. She found she was able to drift off with relative ease, all things considered. Tomorrow, she was sure, would be another demanding day, and she was eager for the respite sleep would bring.

In her dream that night was a woman in a resplendent white dress, and Zelda sensed she was connected with her. Was this Hylia, the goddess whose blood was said to run through her veins? The goddess smiled to herself in a dreamy way, absorbed in her song as her fingers moved along the strings of a small harp. The goddesses appeared to be singing as her lips moved silently, Zelda not being able to hear her words. Perhaps it was a lullaby. Zelda wished she could hear the goddess’s song. The goddess seemed so passionate about…. something, but all she could do was watch and hope this dream to be a harbinger of good things to come.

oOo

His harbinger turned and left, having imparted to his disciple how it had come to be and how it planned to counter what its “twin” from a ruined Hyrule had set out to do. It was fate that Ganon’s hatred had followed that Guardian through time to possess the one from this era.

And now, Calamity Ganon’s will can be fulfilled in this time as well… The Prophet of Doom thought. This was all a part of Lord Ganon’s plan to annihilate his enemies completely, leaving no room for victory, even in a separate path in time.

That Guardian by the princess’s side had the means to set this path on a different course, and the prophet knew he couldn’t let some meddlesome piece of junk alter fate’s rightful course. He would subdue the princess and her newfound ally. The thought of destroying the Guardian had already crossed his mind, even before Lord Ganon’s new directive. Now he just had to make those two degenerate, banana-eating goons do his and Lord Ganon’s bidding.

The prophet was elated that he could now receive such clear directives and revelations from Lord Ganon. Had he not met with the harbinger, he would truly be on his own. The harbinger was proof to potential allies that he had indeed been chosen and could know the will of Calamity Ganon, not just interpret it through the constellations or prophetic dreams. Gaining the trust of the Yiga Clan didn’t feel like much, but things were coming together. The Calamity would return and reign down its hatred on Hyrule, and the kingdom would come to its end, at long last.

oOo

“I have selected the candidates for the Divine Beasts. Zora grace, Princess Mipha; Goron vigilance, Daruk; Rito confidence, Revali; and Gerudo spirit, Chief Urbosa. You will go meet with each and explain their role to pilot their respective Divine Beast.” King Rhoam’s voice carried through the main foyer from his place on the balcony.

Zelda looked up at her father and responded. “Yes, I suspected as much… I will meet with Chief Urbosa first. I am... looking forward to seeing her again.”

Rhoam nodded. “Understood. It has been some time since your last meeting with her.” The king’s voice held a respectful tone, perhaps thinking of his late queen who had been close friends with the Gerudo chief. His gaze moved to the little Guardian, and his voice became cold. Zelda stiffened as the words left his mouth. “And? You’re taking this relic with you, I presume?” Rhoam narrowed his eyes at the small Guardian that was currently hiding behind his daughter.

Zelda could sense an admonishment incoming, yet she managed an explanation. “Yes. After talking to Purah and Robbie, we thought it would be best.”

Rhoam took a seat on his throne, considering this. The Guardian moved out from behind her as if emboldened by her voice. “I will remind you once again. Above all else, your duty is of the utmost importance. Are we clear?” Rhoam said, sternly.

For the briefest moment, Zelda thought of the hooded man she’d seen on the Sheikah Slate. “Yes, we are clear. I understand... And I will honor my duty.”

It wasn’t a lie, per se…. Zelda thought. After all I’ve been through, who can say what honoring my duty looks like. Prayer hasn’t worked. I’ve spent over a decade dedicating myself to prayer. If I could just focus my attention elsewhere, perhaps the power will find me in a way nobody could foresee.

Zelda, Link, and Impa departed the castle with the new Guardian in tow. The Princess breathed a soft sigh of frustration as she felt her father’s eyes boring into her, which didn’t go unnoticed by Impa and Link. And in time, the three were laughing and bonding over the little Guardian that acted as if it were a knight in the princess’s service.

#Age of Calamity #Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity #Astor #fanfiction #Mostly Zelda centric chapter here #Zelast

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

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i love your medieval posts! i think you wrote a while back on how a first crusade film might go, and i have a question if you don’t mind me asking: I’m writing fiction around the third crusade and approaching the massacre of the acre garrison. do you have any advice on how to portray such incidents in a way which isn’t cheap/horror-porn, while not skating around the fact that this was a genuinely horrifying thing? (1/2)

(also on a lighter note: what moments from the third crusade would you absolutely love to be included in historical portrayals of the period? apart from richard x philip which is an obvious given) (2/2)

Oooh. This is good.

I have written about the massacre at Acre three times that I can think of: twice in fiction (in my novel about Richard and then in chapter 3 of DVLA) and once in nonfiction, in my academic book about the crusades. It’s one of the events in the crusades which gets a lot of attention when somebody has a particular Point To Make, usually about the barbarity of the crusades/crusaders, attempts to portray them as simple excesses of religious zealotry, Ye Olde Bad Violent Medieval Times, parallels to modern-day Western invasions and occupations of the Middle East, well-meant attempts to critique the West’s treatment of Muslims, etc. (I seem to recall that the 2010 Robin Hood has a Bad Take on this, though the rest of it is fictional anyway, so hey.) So if you’re coming into it trying to make a Point for your reader, I advise you to think carefully about what that Point actually is, and how you’re conveying it. Because while it’s certainly a thing that happened and should be dealt with sensitively, it’s also important to think about the larger context of the crusade and how this was treated by both sides, both before and after its occurrence.

First, Saladin’s army had killed or taken prisoner the entire Christian army at the battle of Hattin in 1187, and while there are a few high-profile stories about him personally ransoming Christian captives, there was also an episode where Richard and company freed several thousand (supposedly 12,000, though medieval round figures often have problems) captives from where they were destined to be sold into the slave markets of the Islamic world. Saladin has a well-deserved reputation as a great commander and leader, so this isn’t to attempt some kind of hatchet job on him, but point out that this was a way he would have (logically) expected to make money for his army and to fund his ongoing battles against the Third Crusade. The slave trade was a major part of the medieval economy, often concentrated through the Mediterranean, Eastern Europe, and the Silk Road (as I’ve mentioned before, the word “slave” comes from “Slav.”) On this note, despite their Tumblr-darling reputation as champions of conscience and liberal society and personal cleanliness, the Vikings were also big-time slave traders (which probably isn’t that surprising for people who made their living by jumping off boats and stealing other people’s shit; though the word wicing denotes a particular kind of sea raider within this society and not the entire society itself). Anyway: the point is that people were routinely used as human collateral, both as slaves and as hostages, in medieval society and warfare alike, and that included the crusades. The giving and taking of hostages was a very, very common feature of forcing trust and incentive to cooperate between warring sides; it happened in Europe, it happened on the crusades, it didn’t matter who the enemy was.

In fact, by the time the massacre took place, Richard had already taken a lot of flak (and would continue to take it throughout the crusade) for being so friendly in his diplomatic negotiations with Saladin, which was supposedly one of the reasons Philip decided to leave early. The fact that Richard kept entering into negotiations with the Saracens and trying to resolve Acre’s disputed status with diplomacy as well as warfare was a bit of a shock to the other crusade leaders, who figured that they were just there to kill the Muslims and have done with it. (They also had a grudge against Richard for swiftly dispossessing them and doing everything himself, which was just the way Richard rolled, my bros.) As also mentioned in DVLA, Richard was one of the Western leaders most sympathetically inclined to the Muslims (and especially Saladin and his brother Saif al-Din) during the entire crusades, not just the Third. We can’t know how serious he was, but he did offer to marry his sister Joanna to Saif al-Din, he and Saif al-Din hit it off during their in-person negotiations and referred to the other as their friend, he and Saladin wrote to each other fairly often even if they never met, they are both on record saying how much they admired each other, Richard was open about finding the Muslims more honorable than his Christian allies, and Hubert Walter (the bishop of Salisbury) had dinner with Saladin (when Saladin had invited the crusaders to Jerusalem after the Treaty of Jaffa in 1192, though Richard didn’t go) and told him that if he and Richard ever decided to join forces, nobody would be able to stop them. (I also had to write a novel based on that premise, for reasons.) So Richard and Saladin negotiated for the entire period of the crusades, they fought on the battlefield, they engaged in diplomacy, they respected the hell out of each other, they had a cordial-enemies relationship, and Richard became outright friends with Saif al-Din. And most of this happened AFTER the events at Acre.

That is to say: the Acre massacre, while it may appear particularly shocking to our eyes, did not end up being a major episode for either side during the crusade, at least in its ultimate course of events. Saladin and the Muslim high command had repeatedly dawdled and prevaricated and tried to avoid fulfilling the terms of the arrangement under which they had handed the hostages over, trying to delay Richard in Acre and prevent him from marching down the coast to Jaffa or Jerusalem, and thus, as utterly cold-blooded as it sounds: by the simple rules of medieval battlefield logic, the hostages were fair game. They were POWs and military combatants, and while hostages weren’t USUALLY killed, simply because it was the threat that they could be hurt that was the most effective at exerting compliance... they also could be killed, and both sides recognized that this was a possible option if the arrangement wasn’t fulfilled.

This again, as noted, wasn’t unique to the crusades. You gave up hostages precisely because they were supposed to impel you to keep your word, and if you didn’t, that reflected badly on your own honor, as much or as more than on your enemy’s. That’s why Yusuf is also pissed with Saladin in the aftermath of the massacre in DVLA; Saladin had a responsibility as a commander to free these men, he did not do that and deliberately used their safety as a pawn, so Richard called his bluff and had the prisoners executed. Which again: this was about what anyone in that situation had a right to expect, and Richard was often much more ruthless with rebellions against him by his European Christian subjects back in France; he had given Saladin over six weeks to cooperate, which was a lot more than he usually did. So this wasn’t a case where he was doing it specifically because of the religion of the captives or some mindless excess of religious bigotry, but because a military agreement had been broken. (Richard was many things, but not, so far as I can tell, really a religious bigot at all. This goes for his relations with the Jews as well as the Muslims.)

Obviously, it’s not a wonderful thing that this did happen, the Muslims were rightfully angry about it, and harassed the crusaders’ march repeatedly during the two weeks between the massacre (August 20, 1191) and the battle of Arsuf (September 7, 1191) where Richard defeated Saladin for the first time in the open field. Both of these events contributed to a dent in Saladin’s reputation, which heretofore had been about as glorious in the Islamic world as it was possible to get. There was a lull in hostilities after Arsuf as the fighting season ended, negotiations between Richard and Saladin were soon underway again, he met Saif al-Din not long after, and it doesn’t appear that the Acre massacre had a major impact on the resumption of that diplomatic relationship. This supports the interpretation that both sides recognized it as a valid if regrettable move in the circumstances, and Saladin had some awareness that he’d been outplayed twice in a row and this was, to some degree, his fault too. So while this should obviously be treated with care and not sensationalized, and given its due weight as an episode of warfare in the crusades, the broader context of this particular incident does not support it being some sort of terrible black-mark incident of mindless religious zealotry; the Muslims themselves did not view it that way and were once more negotiating with Richard a month later.

As far as lighter episodes: you DELIGHT me in giving me the opportunity to inform you about the Dueling Dirty Songs of the Third Crusade, featuring Hugh, duke of Burgundy (the commander of the French forces after Philip’s departure in July 1191) and Richard himself. This happened in July 1192, after the final failed advance on Jerusalem and before the battle of Jaffa, when relations between the French and English contingents had completely broken down. Take it away, Itinerarium Peregrinorum:

On top of all this, Henry [Hugh] duke of Burgundy, prompted by a spirit of worthless arrogance or perhaps led on by the most unbecoming malicious envy, composed the words of a song to be sung in public. Such shameful words should never have been made public if its composers had retained any sense of propriety, for they were revealed not so much as men but men beyond raping women [non tantum viris, sed et viros ultra rapientibus mulieribus]. Those who applied their efforts to such shocking and silly activities certainly made themselves conspicuous and revealed the hidden intentions of their hearts […] This invidious composition was sung all through the army. The king [Richard] was extremely annoyed about it, and thought that he should punish them by paying them back in their own coin. So he also sang something about them, and it was little trouble to compose because there was plenty of material at hand.

As I write about in my Queer Richard paper: The IP’s shocked tone in reporting this anecdote, the clear sense that Hugh’s song was too shameful to even be hinted at, and the curious comment that the ones responsible were men “beyond even raping women” gives the distinct impression that this was a musical slander on Richard’s sexual habits, especially given his public repentance in Messina prior to the crusade. It also fits in a tradition wherein which songs were used as one of the most versatile and popular methods of mass communication in crusading armies, praising crusaders’ successes and lambasting their failures. The IP author, for whom Richard was a figure of hero-worship, deflected the charges of sexual irregularity by the straightforward tactic of claiming that the French must be engaging in it instead, and thus by inference, homosexual sodomy was an even worse sin than heterosexual rape. It also shows that Richard’s own reaction was simply to sing a wittier and more scathing song about his accusers. And seriously, his nemesis (well, the henchman of his nemesis, since Philip was already gone) throws a shit fit and is all I’LL TELL EVERYONE THAT RICHARD LIKES DUDES NAH NAH NAH like it’s a middle school playground slap fight? And Richard just goes, “bring it on bro, I’m smarter than you, I’m a better singer than you, there’s TONS OF MATERIAL for me to write about how much you suck, and I will now proceed to destroy you in a diss track competition because I’m Queer N’ Awesome?”

I’m sorry. Legendary. We stan.

#history #medieval history #medieval warfare #dvla asks #ish #the old guard meta #richard the lionheart #long post #anonymous #ask

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be-lis-mamamoo · 5 years

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International Women's Day: Mamamoo Edition

Just because I thought "Why not?" If you you're involved with Mamamoo, every single day feels like a Women's Day. And here are the reasons why 👇🏻

Kim Yongsun - Solar

When we're talking about women empowerment in K-Pop or the music industry in general, I hardly can think of a better role model than Kim Yongsun. She's not only Mamamoo's oldest member and their leader, she's also a very supportive and thoughtful person who always cares about everyone and everything around her.

Her YouTube channel Solarsido demonstrates her versatility as singer, entertainer, dancer, choreographer etc. and she pleases her fans with a lot of diverse content. Once in a while she shows her incredible dance skills, the other day she exposes her way of learning English. But what's really impressive about her YouTube channel is that she raises awareness about serious issues and social causes:

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In honor of “Expectant Mother’s Day”, Solar volunteered to help watch her friend Eun Song’s newborn baby. Solar volunteered to help watch her friend Eun Song’s newborn baby. While she did struggle a bit, her sharing the experience was illuminating about what mothers go through on a daily basis! ©Koreaboo

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Solar joined forces with Dongdaemun Senior Welfare Center and social worker Jung Soo Bin to donate roughly 2,200 lbs of kimchi to underprivileged elderly. She even delivered some of the boxes in person, making the gesture even more meaningful! ©Koreaboo

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On the “International Day of Zero Tolerance for Female Genital Mutilation”, Solar used her large platform to raise awareness of the violence women around the world experience as victims of FGM. ©Koreaboo

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Also, did I mention that Solar stands for gender neutrality? I think we all remember that time she ripped off her shirt during their 4seasons 4 colors concerts and when she was invited to perform live at KBS! She explained, “Afer seeing many male idols ripping their shirts on stage, I wondered, ‘Why can’t girls do that too?‘”

There's a lot more to say about her so if you don't know much about Solar or Mamamoo in general, make sure to check them out. You won't regret it.

Moon Byulyi - Moonbyul

One of the best examples for gender neutrality and music diversity in K-Pop might be Miss Moon Byulyi.

With her latest solo comeback "Dark side of the Moon", she wrote a new history in K-Pop. Bold in both sound and style, Moonbyul takes the stage with "Eclipse" and uses it to show off her duality as both a singer and rapper over its forceful melody and brash beats. Accompanied by the release of a captivating music video where the artist is seen both as a soldier and a queen, “Eclipse” revels in Moonbyul’s skills as a performer, and also continues Mamamoo’s legacy as an act that constantly relays different ideas of feminine strength through their music. ©Billboard

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Moonbyul is successfully redefining fashion’s outdated gender norms by wearing suits and breaking the beauty standards of K-Pop PERFECTLY. But Byulyi also has her soft sides. Her sincere love for Mamamoo and Moomoos is just precious and she never misses a chance to show her support and love for her members and fans. On Fancafe, she helped Moos who went through hard times and in her private life, family and friends play a central role which she proudly shows by her many tattoos.

I personally love her for her way of spreading self-confidence and a strong self-esteem. Be it by her self-composed songs or by simply talking with fans during Fanmeetings and on Vlive, she always motivates us to love ourselves!

Make sure to follow her on Instagram!

Jung Wheein - Wheein

Wheein was born to shine. But she was also born to be a great role model and here is why.

Fronting Soar, Wheein's first-ever solo single album, “Good Bye,” or “Let’s Break Up” as it reads literally in Korean, is a poignant track that rises and falls with Wheein's dynamic delivery of the song, as soft rock instrumentals build the melody up around her powerful vocals.

"Good Bye" was released through a heart-rendering music video that depicts a rare representation of same-sex love in K-pop. Featuring a woman entering the home of a couple, she treats it as if it’s her own and play-acts being in a relationship, while becoming enraged and destroying signs of the pair being together, seemingly out of jealousy. ©Billboard

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In addition, Wheein explained that the shape of love doesn't matter to her, it's all the same. For me as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, Wheein's statement means a lot and I'm so happy about her support and understanding!

During the "Secret Unnie" filming with SNSD's Hyoyeon, Wheein also talked about the pressure of Korean beauty standards and her struggles of feeling left behind, a feeling all of us can relate to.

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Whenever Wheein shows her vulnerable sides, it always carries an important message to her fans. I love her because she's simply being herself without trying to be someone she isn't. Wheein is one of the most humble artists I've ever met, she's an inspiration and a great emotional supporter.

Ahn Hyejin - Hwasa

I guess since she became THE it-girl of 2018, 2019 and probably 2020 also, everyone should be aware of how much of an amazing person she is. Here are the reasons why she is my number one queen.

Everything started with twit, her first solo song which quickly became a very popular song in SK. Her prowess as one of K-pop’s most dynamic singers carries throughout the song, a true show of her impressive talent as she addresses, mocks really, a lover who is giving too much to someone who doesn’t deserve it. ©Billboard

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"If I don't fit in this generation's standard of beauty, I will have to become a different standard"

Who doesn't remember her most famous quote? I think a lot of people appreciate her for her very strong self-esteem and just being the way she is. Just like Wheein and the rest of Mamamoo, she's very humble and down to earth.

What I love the most about her is her attitude. Hwasa called out her haters in their latest comeback album "reality in BLACK" and doesn't hesitate to tell the whole world how much she loves to be herself.

What can I say, there's so much more I want to tell about her but the best way to get to know her is to watch the whole Mamamoo related content and ofc her solo activities, for example her appearance in "I live alone"

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All in all we have to admit that she's the most badass queen ever who deserves the whole world. And it's our obligation to protect her from all the unnecessary hate. She has just the sweetest personality and even though she acts like a tough person, she can get hurt just like every other human on this planet.

Mamamoo isn't only a group of talented singers. They're very unique and special women with big hearts and a lot of love and support for their family, friends and fans. K-Pop is a strict and sometimes scary music business but even so, Mamamoo manages to be such great role models and one of the most humble celebrities I ever got to know!

#I could spend the whole day talking about Mamamoo #But it would never be enough time to mention all the great things they did #Mamamoo is just amazing in every aspect I can think of #I dedicate this to the international women's day and Mamamoo #Mamamoo #international women's day #mamamoo solar #moonbyul #Wheein #Hwasa

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antihero-writings · 4 years

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Stolen Sunlight (Ch3)

Fandom: Tangled | Tangled the Series | Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Fic Summary: Arianna never thought she'd find herself afraid of a fourteen-year-old boy, but the events of Secret of the Sundrop won't seem to leave her.

She needs to talk to Varian in prison. Not for his sake...but for her own.

Character focus: Arianna

Notes:

Aaand here comes another internal monologue-heavy chapter XD

This was probably the chapter that gave me the most trouble when attempting to edit over the years, so this feels really good to finish! (At least a version of it, I may edit it more as time goes on XD). I would have liked to cut down the internal monologue, but I decided to just keep it in for now. I also kind of wanted to split this chapter into more than one to make it more palatable, but the ideas tie into each other so much I felt like I couldn't really do that? By the time the next chapter came out, the connections between ideas would be lost? I don't know...

The next chapter should have more dialogue XD But be warned it may take longer, as now we're getting to the part I haven't really written.

All your support for this fic has been such a HUGE help in giving me motivation to continue!! I definitely wouldn't have posted the next chapters so fast without all your support!! So thank you all so so SO much!!!!

Also! I forgot to mention the songs I like for this story! I've been writing this for so many years I have a list of songs for this fic XD but the two songs I thing fit most for this fic (especially the themes in this chapter) are "Towards the Sun" by Rihanna and "The Sun is Rising" by Britt Nicole.

P.S. I’m thinking of creating a Tangled-specific side blog (mostly as a Tangled-only writing blog, but I’ll likely reblog other Tangled related things there too), do you guys have any ideas for urls? The one I like the most right now is “two-words-where-one-will-do” XD

Chapter 3: Burglarize, Criticize, Sympathize

When she arrives at the dungeon’s door, carrying notebook between her hands, it is almost nightfall. The last of the day is at her back, urging her onwards. Her shoes tick against the tiles as she ventures down the hall.

Everything looks different during the day. At night the navy air was a haze, clouding her thoughts, magnifying all the negative feelings within her. Now her head is clear, and the waning blue day urges her onward, fueling all the positivity and determination in her.

“Your majesty,” the guards hold their halberds higher, puffing out their chests, as if to show they’re strong for this kingdom, “Is there something we do for you this evening?”

“Thank you, Stan, Pete.” She folds her hands and inclines her head in a sort of bow to each of them. “There is, in fact.”

They stand expectantly for her request.

“You can let me into the dungeon.”

They glance at each other.

“Of course, your majesty,” Stan bows, reaching for the door.

“Um…May we ask what this is about?” Pete steps forward, more hesitant.

Perhaps servants ought to do what their masters ask without hesitation. But, in a way, it was only fitting—some might say even more in line with their duties—for him to be apprehensive. He is concerned for his monarch’s well being after all. It wasn’t exactly normal for her to go down to the dungeon, nor is it a place a Queen would be most welcome.

“You know Varian is down there, right?” Pete speaks behind his hand when she doesn’t answer.

“I am aware. In fact, he’s the reason I’m going down there in the first place.”

Their eyes widen, then they give each other a look.

She steps forward before they can say anything more. “He’s just a boy,” she says softly.

“Uhh, yeah, a boy who fed me evil cookies!” Pete exclaims. “And let’s not forget, he kidnapped you!”

“Well…yes, that’s true. But he’s still just a boy.” She looks down at the notebook and runs her fingers along the cover. “He’s hurting, he needs help” she says half to the air, “…Besides, he can’t hurt me from behind bars.”

“But—with all due respect—your majesty—“

“I appreciate your concern,” she says in a conversation-ending way, stepping forward and placing her hand on his shoulder, “but…this is something I must do.”

They glance at each other once more, before lowering their heads and opening the doors, reluctance in their motions.

Her shoes sound against the winding stone staircase, leading her down, down into the realm beneath the castle. The last dregs of day drip from the open door along the staircase a few steps ahead of her, as if saying Hey, come on! Follow us! Don’t be afraid! We’ll be with you each step of the way.

Arianna is not doing this for him. She reminds herself of this. He was not gentle that day, and she knows prison is unlikely to have made him any tamer. He never asked for her forgiveness, whether or not he wants it, and he will not likely be kind in his responses, like the boy she had once met in the castle halls above. He no longer belongs to those halls; he haunts the space beneath them. At least, that’s what everyone thinks…including him.

She’s trying not to.

She must admit, she is doing it for him in some way; in that she, even now, even after everything he did to her, even after—or perhaps because of—the sleepless nights… she cares. Some would say it’s one of her fatal flaws. She wants him to realize there is more to him than this cell, these chains, and a few black—and one amber—rocks sticking up from the floor. He is more than metal and moonlight.

But she also knows if this is for him and him alone, she will fail in her endeavor. If she thinks she is saving a poor, lost boy’s soul, she will lose both their souls in the process, and leave them wandering in the dark.

Forgiveness has never been about the one who did the crime.

“Your majesty!” the guards patrolling the dungeon bow low. “What an honor! What can we do for you on this fine evening?”

“Thank you.” She inclines her head in return, then says without a hint of hesitation or anxiety, “You can take me to see Varian.”

“You’re…here to see… Varian?” They glance at each other. “Your majesty, with all due respect, are you sure you want to do that? Varian he…hasn’t been very cooperative.”

She gives a small, sad smile. “I understand. I’ll be very careful.”

They stand on either side of her, leading her to him.

This was something important, something she had to do. For her state of mind, and of her soul and conscience, even if no one else understood. The bars and chains would be enough to keep him from any attempts at action, and the guards would be ready to act at the moment anything went wrong.

On her walk to his cell, the other prisoners spit in her face and footsteps, laugh her name as she strides by. She had come to accept their attitudes and actions, and ignore them, a long time ago; let them have their threats, a few pitiful insults are all they have left in here, and they are not enough to make a dent in her pride anyways.

Varian is not some beast, like the one he sent after those she loved that day—(then again…neither was that creature truly a beast)—he won’t claw through the bars.

Still, as she draws nearer, her heart speeds up.

Why does stone and metal seem so feeble now, when it was unbreakable, when it was alive, then?

Maybe its the one who was using the metal; he was someone who understood what it was made of, sympathized with its chemistry.

She may know nothing of metal…but she knows what he is made of.

And she sympathizes.

They bring her to the furthest cell from the door.

Her expression softens when she sees him; he’s on the bench in the corner of his cell, hugging his knees, like the world forgot him.

Fractures of light drain across the form of a boy—even smaller and weaker than before, his hair greasy and long—and sizzle on the cold, stone floor. Though the rays dance, urging him to come play with them, as they had with Arianna, they can’t seem to cut through the shadows upon his face. Already it seemed he had told himself the sun couldn’t reach him down here, even when it was draped across his eyes.

They even chained his hands …which is more than he did with her.

She can’t exactly blame them. He is the most dangerous person in the kingdom, after all. Or so he’s called. And, being here in his presence—or, more so the presence of the memories seeing him brings—she isn’t exactly complaining about the extra precaution.

But he is still just a fourteen-year-old boy.

—(Or was it fifteen now? Had he had his birthday in this cell? She hates to think of that, of a young boy spending his birthday without presents, or parties, or a cake, or even so much as a nice wish from his dad. She tells herself that he must be fourteen still to ease the pain.)—

Sitting in the dungeon he hasn’t changed; hasn’t transformed into some sort of monster just by being caged and fed scraps. He is still so young. Just a boy, who deserved better. Fourteen years old, all rage, and pain, and grief.

The queen holds the notebook she brought—the reminder of her intentions in coming here—tighter to her chest, which itself is growing tight.

She is a queen, yes, but also a mother. Not his, but something motherly in her sees his hurt, and wants to comfort it, sing to it, read to it, hold it close, and tell it everything will work out in the end, even if she isn’t sure it will. She knows what it’s like to lose family, to have tragedy in your heartbeat.

Kindness, childhood innocence, is something people take for granted. Everyone has their troubles—more pressing matters—so, there are times when everyone brushes this kindness by, knocks it to the cobblestones, in the presence of the problems we must face and fix, here and now, while we are still young—(though we are no longer innocent ourselves). At some point everyone denounces something so bright and precious as their own conscience, as naiveté and ignorance, so as not to regret their actions. They don’t mean it, actively think it, but it’s there, all one must do is stop looking away. That compassion was all he had, all he was, at one point. A heart full, forgiving and, kind. The mistakes he made were just that; mistakes. Not some purposeful show of capability, and control.

That was before. Before the storm, and the amber, the broken promises, and the flower.

Fourteen years old, yes. But he is not a child. Maybe he wasn’t before either, but it’s different now. He’s different now. Something’s missing. Something important to making you a child. He’s missing something…someone. She knows what that’s like. She once missed someone. Something important to making her a parent.

She knew Rapunzel never meant any harm, never meant to break her promise, and that she had had to make the hardest decision of her life that day, the day she and Frederic were gone—(oh how she wished they had never left). She also knew Rapunzel hadn’t chosen wrong, nor had she chosen right, she had simply chosen, and that’s what being queen is all about. What being human is all about. …And that is everything wrong with being queen. Everything wrong with humanity. Rapunzel had just learned that too early, or perhaps too late. (Everything always felt too late when it came to Rapunzel, and it made Arianna feel sick sometimes).

The fact that the breaking of a promise, and the breaking of a heart, is enough to cause an entire kingdom falter in one night, is not something one can ever really get used to, no matter how long the crown has been sitting on their head.

But maybe—something bright, hopeful…naïve? in her wonders—though it isn’t Rapunzel’s fault… maybe it isn’t completely Varian’s either.

Maybe there isn’t ever only one at fault. Maybe the fault lines run along each of us—much like the black rocks jutting up from their kingdom’s ground—they are everywhere, in all of us alike, creating cracks in solid relationships, there’s no pattern to them, no way of really breaking them. The best we can do is try to understand them instead of ignore them. We can only hope to build bridges, and that we won’t burn them down as we cross them.

There aren’t a lot of people like Varian. In the kingdom, in the world, she supposes; fourteen-year-old boys with heads full of knowledge, and hands that liked to slip, a heart full to the brim with nature of a good kind, but a bit too bittersweet, a little too easy to break. And when his hands didn’t do what he told them, important things, like glass, and trust, shattered upon the floor. There were fourteen-year-old boys who were smart, and ones who were kind, there were clumsy ones, and funny ones, and inappropriate ones, and sly ones, but this one, with all the kindness, and intelligence, in tandem with all the clumsiness, and the grey, was a rarity. It was rare for someone to be so bright, and so dark. Most people are just one or the other.

They didn’t take into account the messes he made, how he could wreck his hometown on accident, simply because he had…what was it? a vision? a dream? an ambition? a simple hypothesis? A plot, a plan, a ploy. All depends on the word you use; words are like spells, sometimes creating the affect you intend simply by repeating them enough. He could destroy a town on accident, all because there was something, something good he wanted to do, a problem he wanted to solve, and he miscalculated a percentage. They didn’t take into account that they really should have been asking themselves, if this was a miscalculation… what kind of damage can he cause when he does the math right? If this was an accident…what kind of damage can he do on purpose?

They all shared blame for the unasked question. But when Rapunzel came home that first day she met him, Arianna never took a second to—instead of smiling at her stories, and the drawings in her journal—ask if maybe that made him dangerous.

And when her daughter came to her after the storm—her hands curled into fists, waging war against the tears in her eyes, and ran to her, burying her face in her chest, her arms around her, saying she didn’t think she wanted to be queen after all—she never once thought to ask if maybe they should send someone to go check on Varian.

Then, on that day he was not the flowery drawings Rapunzel made of him in her journal, not the boy she had met once, on a sunny afternoon, not the desperate child crying for someone to save his dad in the midst of the storm. He was still confident, and stubborn, and his words were still playful… but without the smile. He was still desperate, without a single tear, or plea for help, he was everything he once was, without the light. He was a mask, the color green shimmering in her eyes, her title, and a command to sleep. He was a cause, a curse, misguided conviction, desire, and grief. Not a fourteen-year-old boy, not compassion, not kindness, or naiveté, just that stubbornness, that desperation. Everything else, even those things that he once would never touch with his disobedient hands, became means to his end.

“I’ll make them hear me!”

…Was that all he wanted? If that was all, why couldn’t they listen? Why couldn’t they just go check on him, and see if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t okay? They should have listened to him. One of the saddest things in the world is to watch a child’s words fall on deaf ears; to watch a child standing in a crowd, going after person after person, tugging at their clothes, trying so hard just to be heard. And eventually, if they never are, the scene either inevitably ends with anger or tears. All they had to do was listen. It would have been so simple.

When Arianna was younger, first growing accustomed to the weight of a crown, they told her that villains would topple the woman beneath, spill her blood, to reach the jewels. She would receive threats, some real—backed with blades and armor—and others empty as the hearts who made them, and she would have to learn to tell the difference. Frederic had said in a show of sweet, but somewhat sappy, sentiment, that she was ‘the kingdom’s most precious jewel’, and her protection was his first priority, no matter the cost. She was grateful for the gesture, but being an adventurer, she was perfectly capable of handling herself. Adding a crown to the weight of the life she already knew how to protect didn’t rattle her.

She never imagined that one day, she would be kidnapped, and the one to succeed would be, not bandits on the road, or separatists, or sorcerers, but…a kid.

When she woke up in his lab, chains around her ankles, the blue of his eyes not much better than the pale, emotionless glow of the mask, she still couldn’t believe the sweet kid she had once met was behind that ice. No, not this boy. Not this villain. Maybe she didn’t know him before, but when they did meet, it had struck her how bright his eyes had been. His eyes, his voice, his smile... Without that light he seemed like a different person.

“Any moment now, your highness.” he had hissed, before singing that he had made a pact with the darkness, that they deserved all this, and they he might not be ready, but he was as ready as he’d ever be…

Varian scared her.

There was no other word for it, no other way to describe it. She would have tried to deny it; it seemed silly, after all, to be afraid of a fourteen-year-old boy who had once posed no threat, who she had even joked with. In fact, she would have once laughed at the very thought that he would one day scare her. But there came a point where there was nothing left to think but the truth.

When all it took was a drop of a mistake, a mistake he made that led to the rest, a mistake her daughter made that led to a test, an amber crypt, a few hurt-soaked words…that scared her, he scared her.

Because there came a time when that green chemical he had teased her with fell and burned on the black, turning amber and solid, cracking, crawling—not inanimate crystal, but some creature, alive, after all the things she held dear—towards her…

Watching orange and golden spires crackle closer, her heart couldn’t remain steady. And, yes, it would have been scary for anyone; to sit there while imminent imprisonment, or demise—(they couldn’t know which)—crept ever closer, while they were tied to the floor, with no means of break or escape….but that wasn’t quite enough to cause this sort of reaction.

She’d faced life-threatening situations; her own death or imprisonment before. One could never face it with a steady heart, breath, and sense of reason, but there was an exhilaration to it too; being close to death made life closer too. When the bandits put swords to her throat, or some creature took her back to its lair, yes she was scared, but sometimes she’d smirk at Willow, and, as she cut herself down, as she clashed swords with the villains, she would feel so very alive.

There was nothing exhilarating this time, nothing exciting, nothing that made life feel as close as death. She’d had no one-liners or fun strategies…was she just getting old?

He was very different from the bandits she had once faced in her travels. He wasn’t some sniveling storybook villain, or routine thug just looking for some extra cash. He had much deeper reasons for doing this.

He told them that they deserved this. All this pain. That sweet boy in the sunlight thought they deserved to be torn from each other, and used for their parts. Was that possible? Was any of this possible?

He had much deeper reasons for doing this. He was hurting. He was human. And that makes for a far more terrifying villain; the toughest villains to face are not the strongest, or the most powerful… but the ones we can see ourselves in. Because we have to break the mirrors, and that may just give us seven years’ bad luck. Break our views of ourselves. Break our views of the other. And maybe see them as people like us, worthy of being saved, of forgiveness. How had it had taken her thirty-odd years to learn that?

It wasn’t he himself she was afraid of. What made fear truly latch on to her, was just how easy it all was. How one drop of his solution could create a prison of amber. How one choice could lead to a path of hatred. How easy it was for him to watch his father become entombed in a prison of gold, to lose a parent, then turn to face her daughter, and attempt to take a parent from her. All because she broke a promise; chose to save the kingdom over him. That was enough for him, enough for him to find a place for that pendulum of blame to land. What scared her more than her own peril was how easy it was for him, for this compassionate, sunlit boy, to throw everything else aside, away, shut off the light, and plunge himself into darkness.

—(And, if he was human, didn’t that mean she could do that too?)—

And, as far as the life-threatening went, what scared her most was not her fate; not he amber, nor the chains, not the kidnapping, nor the blame. Her own peril may have unsteadied her heart, but what made her blood run cold as that storm with both fear and anger was her daughter’s life and safety being teased before her. How easy it was for him to hold his friend’s life in the balance. The way she cried out in pain as he hooked her hair up to that machine—(he once did so long ago with no ill intent)—the way she cried out in pain in that lab, that lab that lab—

This fear for her daughter, more than own well-being, had been a part of her for a while now. Ever since Rapunzel was born. Even more since she came back. When she was told of the dangers of wearing a crown, she wasn’t afraid for her own fate. But when Rapunzel was born everything changed.

It was Rapunzel. Always Rapunzel. When their daughter was born, she learned there was a jewel worth more than her life, and the weight of a crown. Suddenly Frederic’s statement about ‘the kingdoms most precious jewel,’ the lengths he went to save her life, made sense.

And all too soon, she learned then what it was like to have someone you love snatched from you, without warning, or threat, or a second glance.

That night, when Rapunzel was stolen from them, just like she was another jewel.

That night, when the wind was quiet, but fast, and cold, and the moon was full, and their little sundrop was stolen away by a woman in a cloak of night.

She knows how hard it is to forgive that person. She could understand that. How hatred and revenge burn in your gut, and can corrode through your heart if left unchecked. The weight of the faultline is a heavy one. She could understand how, especially when you’re young, it would be difficult to accept such a weight upon yourself. That one might do anything and everything in their power to slough it off, to keep from breaking the mirror. And if you are simply looking for someone besides yourself to place the burden of blame on, how everyone could suddenly seem at fault. But she also knows how to move beyond vengeance, into forgiveness—or, perhaps not so far as forgiveness, but at least something that isn’t unforgiveness.

This boy is not Gothel. He is different. She knows that. He is just a boy, a boy who is unbelievably smart, a boy who was kind, but whose kindness they mistook for naiveté, and brushed aside, enough that he forgot himself. He is a boy who lost someone, just like she did. He is grieving, and misled within his own head, just like she is. And she knows how much easier it is to hate someone else, than to admit you were wrong. That they’re gone, and even if you didn’t mean to, even if it was by mistake, some of the fault lies with yourself…

She could have hated him for what he did to her. She could have hated him more for what he did to her daughter. She could have chosen revenge, and unforgiveness. No one would have faulted her for it—she wouldn’t even have to bear the weight of the faultline.

But that wasn’t her. She wasn’t going to turn around and do to him what he did to them. It had taken this long to forgive—(or something close enough)—Mother Gothel, to choose the fact that she had Rapunzel back, the light, over wallowing in the dark. She wasn’t going to throw away what she learned then, now, especially not when she knew that that light hadn’t abandoned him, even if he had tried to abandon it.

She wasn’t going to abandon him.

It was a parent he lost, and it was a parent he needed.

What mattered was not what Gothel took her from her, it was that she has Rapunzel now.

What mattered to him—whether he knew it or not—she was sure, was knowing that there was still hope, still something, someone there for him now. She had to help him realize that it was not about what he had lost, but what he still had—(which was more than they all thought. A mustard seed of kindness is more than most of us have). She wished they had arrived soon enough to teach him that earlier. She hoped she could still show him that now.

He is still fourteen-years-old. Still a kid. A kid, lost, and hurting. Despite her own animosity, she could detect the desperation in his voice, the pain flickering behind his anger when he cried “It’s not my fault! None of it is!” And when those blue eyes blew out their circuits, and swiveled to their daughter, all rage and pain, looking for somewhere, some place, someone, to blame, and his voice became so much like a beast’s growl that the adventurer in her wanted to hunt him down—

“It’s her fault.”

…But he was—he is—not a beast. Even then.

That’s what made it so scary, after all; that he was still human. It would have been easy to call him a monster. That would have made things easier on the rest of them at least, to forget he was human. Easy to lock him up and leave him. But what was scary was that he was human, and she would never be able to forget that. What made it so scary was the pain behind the growls. If she had forgotten, she could have left him here in the dark without guilt or precedent.

The part of her that wants to denounce him as a beast doesn’t want to admit there is something else there, something searching to be redeemed, searching for any last hope, and…And that was something she understood. Despite the fear, how easy it was, she knew what it was to look for anything, any single shred of hope to cling to. And how even a spiderweb of hope can save lives.

And wasn’t the ease the other thing that scared her about him? How he turned to the dark so quickly?

So no, she wasn’t going to go gently into that goodnight.

He wasn’t completely right then, about Rapunzel. But he wasn’t completely wrong either. Some of the blame didn’t find its home with him. It didn’t justify the lengths he went, and how easy it was for him to leap them, but they had left him, after all. Someone should have gone to see him, to make sure he hadn’t lost his way in the storm.

This, and one other small fact led her to believe that he wasn’t completely gone; he never chained her hands. Just her feet. He didn’t do it kindly, and she was sure he didn’t intend it to display mercy. Others may have called it an empty gesture, said So what? You were still chained, what’s the difference?

Thinking about it later, it was the smaller gestures like this that mattered, that betrayed the spiderweb’s difference between hope and despair.

It’s the hands that are dangerous; they’re what slip, and let things break, and catch us all the same. He only chained her method of escape, not her hope to twist his plans—(almost if deep down he wanted her to twist those plans, like he was giving her that thread of hope himself).

He is a fourteen-year-old boy, and they left him there, in the dungeon. And that is not something she can live with. She was the one he kidnapped, so perhaps she is the one with the most right to be angry.

But they left him to rot in here, like the Flower she hadn’t known Frederic had kept.

He stole a flower to save the one he loved…that sounded like another story she knew well, and that story had ended in disaster too.

The more she thought about, Frederic couldn’t see how, when Arianna herself was dying, he would have done anything to save her life, and how Varian, in a way, was doing the same thing. That didn’t excuse his methods, but, still, the similarities gave her pause. They were both angry, both afraid, desperate to save those they love. But Varian wasn’t a king, and his methods were not so pure, so he was left to the dungeons, his father still trapped, and the king walked the halls above, his wife safe and well, without punishment, even though they both stole the sun in the hopes of healing the hurt, making the clock reverse.

She wouldn’t have necessarily wanted things to turn out differently, still, she had to admit there was irony in the situation.

If she had been angry, if she had come down here to spit in his face, they might have called it justice.

But that is not who she is. Who she wants to be. Forgiveness may not be a word she can quite use with Mother Gothel, but she did everything she could to fight the dark then. When Rapunzel came back, she did everything she could to stop herself from locking her up and keeping her safe from everything that dared hurt her.

She let her go out and make friends with him…but letting people in meant giving them the chance to betray you. The only way to keep her completely safe was to lock her away. …But doing so would have made her the villain. And she of all people knew danger was the name of living.

Forgiving him doesn’t mean she approves of what he did. Doesn’t mean she isn’t afraid, or angry, or has fully recovered. It just means that she isn’t going to let the darkness that had taken him so easily have its way with her too. She didn’t want to leave him, she wanted him to be better, she believed that he could be—she had seen what was right in him, she had seen what was left of him. She needed to let him know that someone cared, that she believed he was human, like the rest of us. Not a villain, not a monster, and that she didn’t think he deserved to be left behind in chains. …But he had to see it too.

When she appears before him, a progression of bars and some well-trained guards don’t seem like quite enough—though once upon a time she talked to him without the bars, or the animosity, and he had seemed more than harmless then.

There are no words of respect. He doesn’t bow, or even address her, or look at her at first. She isn’t a queen here, to him, anymore; she is simply the mother of the girl who never broke a promise, except the one she made to him. She is simply a chess piece he once chained to the floor of his lab.

He doesn’t give her any sign of respect, or that he’s even noticed her. But he also doesn’t throw curse at her feet like many of the other prisoners did.

At first, he remains silent. His eyes both have somehow lost their fire, and are as electric as they were that day, glowing in the cold grey of the room.

Everything grey. No black or white here.

“Varian.” Her voice is steady and sober.

“Your highness.” His response pounces, sharp as a claw through the bars.

His words are grey too.

He merely addressed her, but there is a bite behind her words. That sting doesn’t feel so empty in his mouth as it did in those of the other prisoners—(just like how he felt different as a villain, now he feels different as a prisoner)—but the words are worn, ragged, from his voice being kept too long silent. A quiet resolve. A lost, broken conviction, but standing nonetheless. He doesn’t hiss the phrase like he did then—all dauntless, and confident he is right, and they’re all wrong, sure he cannot, will not, lose—but he also doesn’t say it kindly, in any way that asks for forgiveness, or implies respect. Nothing betrays the fact that he is a broken boy, lost and hurting. It is simply stated as a fact, hanging there in the air; she is her highness, she walks the castle high above him, and he is here, in this cell fading in the darkness below.

But she is no angel, and he is no demon, even if everyone else treats him like one.

He is just a boy. She has to remind herself of that. Over, and over, until it finally sticks. That, and that she is not doing this for him.

She is doing this for herself. For her own heart. If she doesn’t forgive him, if she tells herself that the light cannot—or worse, should not—reach him down here, she really is letting darkest parts of herself win.

Forgiveness has never been about the one being forgiven, but about the one doing the forgiving.

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fangslikedaggers · 4 years

Photo

❝ he was a collection of hard lines and tailored edges – sharp jaw, lean build, wool coat snug across his shoulders. ❞

huh, who’s DAVID CORENSWET? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually ALAIN LESTOAT. he is a TWENTY FOUR year old PART-VAMPIRE wizard who is an UNSPEAKABLE. he is known for being RETICENT, MERCURIAL, ALOOF, EVASIVE, and DECADENT but also CHIVALROUS, ADROIT, PRAGMATIC, DEBONAIR, and INTUITIVE, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song THAT’S OKAY BY THE HUSH SOUND and THREE PIECE SUITS, LONE MATTRESS IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT, CODED NOTEBOOKS, INK-STAINED HANDS, BLACK COFFEE GONE COLD, UNSENT POSTCARDS, OLD TABACCO PIPE, SOFT DIMPLED GRINS, PERFECTLY COIFFED HAIR, ÉDITH PIAF RECORDS ON LOW, and RED LEATHER GLOVES. i hear he is aligned with NO ONE, so be sure to keep an eye on him.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Alain Danet Lestoat NICKNAME(S): some people call him ‘Drac’ for some reason, but he prefers to simply be called Alain AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 24, 09/19/2005 (will update graphic soon) OCCUPATION: Unspeakable, works in the Death Chamber most days GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him HOMETOWN: Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England ALMA MATTER: Beauxbatons BLOOD STATUS: Part-Vampire (1/4th) / Halfblood

BIOGRAPHY

If you’ve ever had a chocolate frog, then there’s a great chance you’ve heard the name Lestoat. Among the many trading cards you can find in the packaged confection there is one for an Amarillo Lestoat, a vampire born at the same time that America declared its Independence, immortalized on enchanted cardstock. Amarillo’s rise to fame came with a single piece of literature which the vampire had published during his two hundred and one years. A Vampire’s Monologue, a mind numbingly boring read that offered the vampire a way to disable his victims so he could feed off them without trouble. It’s a story that has followed his grandson Alain throughout his twenty six years -- a fact that isn’t exactly welcome to the 1/4 Part-Vampire.

Alain Danet Lestoat was born on a cold and murky September day in the commune of Eguisheim in Haut-Rhin to Marguerite Babineaux, a pureblooded witch whose family was one of the most prominent pureblood families in France during the 20th century, and her Part-Vampire husband Alexander Lestoat; the unexpectedly conceived son of the bore himself. Amarillo had no intention of fathering halfbreed offspring, but was surprised only ten years prior to his death to find out he’d impregnated a young witch he’d used his book on during a trip to Madrid, thus beginning the equally magical and vampiric lineage of the writer. Sometimes Alain wishes the man had managed to keep to this plan. From the moment he opened his eyes to the world he was instantly met with hardships and difficult hurdles to overcome.

From his father’s side Alain had inherited a severe allergy to garlic, an acute aversion to direct sunlight, canines that were far too long and awkward for braces, and, of course, a slight penchant for the taste of blood. For her part, Marguerite had managed to pass down dark, thick curls and dimpled smiles, but that was not enough to quell the sort of fear that one got whenever he flashed a toothy grin at them. In Eguisheim, among the non-magical denizens, it was important for the Lestoats to stay incognito. Wixen could hide easily among the non-magical, ashen complexed and fanged Vampires could hardly do the same. As such, his childhood was rather isolated and sheltered. He spent most of his days roaming the rather large manor house they had acquired on the edge of town, reading the vast collection of books his two-centuries-old grandfather had left in his father’s possession, consuming knowledge about the world outside he could seldom take part in.

It wouldn’t be until he’d received his invitation to study at his mother’s alma matter that he would get to see the outside world. With its sprawling gardens, never-melting ice sculptures and enchanting fountains, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic felt more like it belonged among Perrault’s stories than in the real world, and yet it was very real. Equal parts excited and horrifyingly nervous, Alain travelled to the secluded chateau to begin his education. His only hope was that among the magical folk of France he would be able to be more readily accepted. He was only a fourth vampire after all -- he was more like the other wixen around him, how could they abhor him? Disappointment would soon become a constant acquaintance for him. All it had taken was one excitedly large toothy grin to a fellow first year within the first minutes of the welcome feast and Alain’s reputation had been set. Leech. Bloodsucker. Monster. All desperately unfair labels since, as he constantly reminded others, he was more wizard than vampire, but it hadn’t mattered. Having knives for teeth was enough to cause anyone to instantly write him off as a danger and liability.

After a particularly disastrous first year, including a rather humiliating question-and-answer session during a DADA class, he had sworn he would turn his back on the wizarding world and never come back. I’ll run away into the words, become the Bête in an enchanted castle and make friends out of the utensils I’ll steal from maman’s cupboard. It hadn’t been until Alexander intervened, having gone through a rough schooling experience himself, that Alain would be comfortable with returning to the academy. You’ll just have to prove to them they’re wrong by showing what kind of person you are. It was with this advice that Alain would come back year after year, despite the harassment from his classmates, in order to study. He had resolved to be the best wizard he could. He studied hard -- an easy feat since he was rarely invited along to field trips or outings with his classmates -- excelled at his academics and managed to be top of his class. Despite the naysayers, he’d graduated from Beauxbatons with top honors, and plenty of prestigious internships and job proposals to choose from. Tired of the isolation of both his small commune and the secluded chateau, he had taken what he felt was the most lucrative option -- an internship with the Bureaux des Mystéres in the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France.

It wasn’t a particularly glamorous position -- he mostly helped file nonsensical reports. He wasn’t allowed anywhere near the actual Chambers within, but he’d caught on quickly enough to know that some really interesting and important stuff happened in there. Why else didn’t anyone talk about it? When he was able to, he applied to become an Unspeakable trainee and before long he was finally setting foot inside those elusive rooms and learning their secrets. He could be trusted to keep them; he was never one to socialize anyway. Who was he going to tell? The only person who was ever privy to his intimate thoughts was his little sister Amélie, and she was still too little to have discussions about his job. Quickly, he’d come to find the secretive and confidential world within those chambers were far more comforting than the vast world outside. His hunger for knowledge about the things he was studying had lead him to submit an application for another Ministry of Magic across the channel. It was said that in the UK they had made more headway with the types of things that were being studied within their own Department of Mysteries, and Alain was desperate to understand everything. When he’d gotten a response back from their Department head eagerly welcoming him to the team, he left first thing and didn’t once look back. France had already taught him enough, it was time to find something more on other shores.

He’s been in the UK for only a year and a half now, and most of the time he’s spent sitting before a stone arch and shroud, listening to voices calling to him. The Death Chamber. There was something kind of funny about a vampire studying death, but Alain doesn’t care. Each day more mysteries open up to him, keeping him from sleeping and eating as his mind reels with everything. He’s been so occupied with his highly secretive work that he hadn’t noticed the climate changing around him. As a foreigner he understood the past conflicts in England in a textual sense. The Wizarding Wars and the Death Eaters were footnotes in his textbooks, a foreign problem to learn from. They weren’t close to home or part of his own history, so he hadn’t given them much thought. When a string of high prolific deaths began taking place they were sad, no doubt, but not warning bells of something dark to come. As such, he hasn’t taken a side. Per his letters home, he insists that should things become grim in England then he will secure a portkey back to France and resume his post in the Ministére, but Alain figures that whatever is happening will eventually de-escalate. Hadn’t they stopped a rise in dark wizardry in this country a matter of decades prior?

ok so basically: alain is an introverted part-vampire who migrated to london about a year and half prior to start of game to work at the department of mysteries in the ministry. he started his career as an unspeakable in france’s ministry but is eager to learn more than he thinks was capable back in his homeland.

BULLYING AND SLIGHT NON CON TW. generally he’s kind of introverted and keeps to himself; this is because he was harassed and bullied a lot as a beauxbatons student for being “halfbreed”. he’s 1/4 vampire and the grandson of a famous vampire writer, a legacy he really hates. in particular he hates that he’s 1. labelled as a monster by ignorant people (he lives off regular food, thank you very much) but also 2. if people know about his grandfather, then they know he wrote a boring af book and in a shady way to get people to submit to him for feeding. kinda feels non-consensual ya know??

PHOBIA MENTION TW as both a vampire and a frenchman, he dresses impeccably, so he’s usually seen around in long trench coats and thin tailored suits. he wears red leather gloves as both a fashion statement and also because he is a bit of a germaphobe. he won’t divulge details but this has to do with a vicious prank that was done to him when he was a student. he was kinda carrie’d if ya feel me.

despite an air of decadence and debonair, he’s kind of poor (rip) and lives in a dingy little shoebox flat where he sleeps on a barren mattress and eats instant ramen and boxed wine for dinner. most of his money goes towards his closet or to his family back home, who doesn’t really need it but he loves spoiling his little sister so he would rather fund her life than his own. claims he’s making enough to live elegantly so they don’t realize he’s a l i a r.

look he’s gonna be a bit of a hard egg to crack but i promise once he is cracked he’s charming and sweet and a loyal good friend so pls don’t give up on his interactions if he’s aloof and distant ;-; give the boy a chance.

idk i’ll probably add to this as I think of stuff; it’s 3 am lmao

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteromantic LANGUAGES: English, French, Spanish, Some German FAMILY: Alexander Amarillo Lestoat (father, b. 1967 in Madrid, Spain), Marguerite Celeste Lestoat neé Babineaux (mother, b. 1981 in Mulhouse, France), Amélie Marguerite Lestoat (sister, b. 2011 in Eguisheim, Haut-Rhin, France), Amarillo Lestoat † (grandfather, b. 1776 in Philadelphia, America, died 1977 in Madrid, Spain; vampire and author of a vampire’s monologue) PETS: Barn Owl named Archimedes and Black Kneazle named Persephone FACE CLAIM: David Corenswet ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo MBTI: TBD PINTEREST: (x)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

tbh i have nothing in mind so just hmu if you have ideas. if not, we will brain storm :)

bonus:

alain danet lestoat, beauxbatons first year c. 2017. ignore that wonky ass eye i’m too lazy to fix it

#potterintro #&& about.#spent my weekend drawing while babysitting #so i decided to make a thing #obviously he's not gray skinned; that was a stylistic choice #i can't make graphics so this is my way of making up for that #afeafea #i'm also sorry this is so poorly written; i literally attempted to write this while babysitting which was ahfiehapfea hard

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travllingbunny · 4 years

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The 100: 7x08 Anaconda

The mini-rewatch of season 7 that @jeanie205 and me did during this mini-hiatus is finished, and with that, I’m going to finally post my reviews of 7x08 and 7x09, hopefully before the show returns.

I’m tempted to start talking about the opening scene without any introduction, just like the episode itself started with no “Previously on” and no cold open (the latter, I believe, for the first time since season 1, when the show still did not have any opening titles).. but I’m going to still say a few general things before going into details under the cut.

When it was first announced that an episode of The 100′s final season would be the backdoor pilot for a prequel show, that info was met with a lot of hostility (to the effect of “why waste a full episode on new characters instead of those we know”), which didn’t surprise me much. What did surprise me was that people mostly seemed to expect the episode to be 100% set in the past and unrelated to anything from season 7 - which, as far as I know, is not how backdoor pilots normally work, they still have to fit within the season they’re a part of. The structure of the episode is more in line with what I expected - while most of the episode is set in the past, the framing device is a scene of Clarke confronting Bill Cadogan in the Stone Room on Bardo, and the long flashback is both setting up a possible prequel, and revealing things relevant to the plot of season 7. The biggest connecting points are the Anomaly Stone on Earth, the importance of the Flame for Cadogan and the Disciples, and Cadogan himself, who is clearly not going to be a character in the prequel except possibly in flashbacks, but who is one of the main antagonists of season 7. The episode works as a backdoor pilot but is also interesting as a part of the backstory of The 100.

I really enjoyed the episode - and as it turns out, I enjoyed it even more on rewatch, when I could stop and soak in all the new info and details - and I hope the prequel does picked up, as it has a lot of potential to be interesting, though there is one big concern I have about it. More about that at the end of this post under “Prequel speculation”.

So no Previously on this time (unsurprisingly), no cold open - and we get a brand new version of the opening titles - since this episode technically fully takes place on Bardo, these opening titles start with the Bardo Stone Room and end with another shot of the Stone Room we haven’t seen before in the OT, one with the Stone. The Stone Room is where they begin and end, just like the episode itself. And just like Clarke and the rest of her group have been stuck in this Stone Room for 4 episodes.

But I actually don’t mind it in this episode. At least Clarke is in the focus of these few minutes we spend in the present, and I really like these few minutes. We start with an expanded version of Clarke's response to the news of Bellamy's "death", with slow motion, distorted angles and close-ups of Clarke’s face showing shock and grief and numbness (and I’m going to post another screenshot of that, because I want to savor the moments when the show focuses on characters’ grief before going back to the action - and not just the type of grief that results in going off the rails and murdering people.) We also see Raven on the verge of tears, and Miller choking a little - the other two people who have been Bellamy’s friends for a long time. Clarke being Clarke, she picks herself up the moment she sees someone else in pain (Raven) and focuses on honoring Bellamy’s memory, just as Bellamy did in 4x13 when he believed Clarke was dead, and tells Raven they need to save Octavia and Echo: “We do this for him. We do this for our family” - acknowledging that saving them is something of particular importance as they were people important to Bellamy, and also including them in the “family”, as the term these people use to describe their group and the bonds that have formed over time. (Family is bond closer and less close than friendship. You can be someone’s friend and their family, but you can also be a part of someone’s family without necessarily having developed a friendship with that person, due to the overall bonds and loyalty.)

Then we get the first meeting between Clarke and probably the season’s main antagonist, Bill Cadogan, who comes to another wrong conclusion when he thinks she recognized him because she has the Flame (and, he hopes, Callie’s memories), when it's actually from a video Jaha showed her.

Gabriel has another moment where he helps Clarke (as when he covered for her in 5x13) and silently communicates with her to let her know that the Disciples believe she still has the Flame, so she could keep up that pretense. These two work well as a team.

The bulk of the episode is the flashback framed as Bill telling a story to Clarke - though we don’t actually see the flashback from his POV, and he doesn’t even appear in many of the scenes. In fact, it is almost all from Callie’s POV, and some of it from Reese’s.

And we get back to Clarke and the Stone Room in the end, with the shocking “twist” of Clarke and the Nakara group seeing Octavia, Echo and Diyoza as Disciples. Shocking for them, not for us - we know they had no choice.

Clarke saying “You killed my best friend!” has caused some pointless (but in this fandom, expected) drama, where some fans saw that as “confirmation” that Bellarke is and will remain completely ‘platonic” - even though that makes no sense. What did anyone expect her to call him? My boyfriend? He wasn’t that. The man I love? My soulmate? Someone expected her to say that to an enemy she’s never met before, in front of a bunch of her friends and other people? Very unlikely, even if he hadn’t still been Echo’s boyfriend when he “died”. Some thought “Bellamy” or “him” would have been better, but what would that mean to Cadogan? He’s never met her and knows nothing about her, and she was trying to make it clear how much Bellamy meant to her. If anything, the fact that she’s singled him out as her best friend is a big progress from their usual habit of never defining their relationship to each other - except for Clarke including Bellamy in the collective designation of her “friends” or “family”.

I love the way the Chromatics cover of Neil Young’s “Into the Black” was used in the ending montage - so I made two gifsets about the use of the song for the Cadogan family scenes, and for the scene with Clarke:

https://travllingbunny.tumblr.com/post/623186143096307712/its-better-to-burn-out-than-to-fade-away-the

https://travllingbunny.tumblr.com/post/623186346138370048/its-better-to-burn-out-than-it-is-to-rust-the

Flashback

This is our second look at the world pre-apocalypse - after the brief scene of Josephine’s memory in 6x07, where we saw Josephine and her friend in the diner. But that scene took place several years before the apocalypse (depending on how much time was needed to get from Earth to Sanctum on Eligius 3, which did not have damaged engines as Eligius 4 did after the uprising), since Josephine and her family and the rest of Mission Team Alpha were already on Sanctum 7 years before the apocalypse. And Josephine and her friend were far less interested in the current events than Callie or August, so we only got a few outside references, including the magazine covers which showed that Diyoza’s capture was the main national news, and that Becca was already very high profile and on the cover of a technology/science magazine.

This, however, is the very day of the apocalypse. In the first scene - Callie Cadogan and her friend Lucy in Callie’s and her mother’s home, after participating in a protest as parts of environmentalist group with the familiar name Tree Crew - we get lots of info about just how crappy this world was even before ALIE started a nuclear apocalypse, through various news items on TV (see this post) - and it is like 2020, only taken to the 10th degree:

natural disasters as a result of global warming (a deathly heath wave is mentioned), new diseases (Coronavirus “Russian Ankovirus” outbreak), economic inequality (one of the news is that measures aimed at poverty relief haven’t met with support in Congress), internment camps in USA, anti-government protests in the USA that end up with riot police beating up protestors, together with technological developments, such as the first orbiting hotel (I wonder if anyone was already using it - if they were, there would be more survivors in space, but it doesn’t seem this ever became a part of the Ark), or the first brain transplant. a medical development which begs some ethical questions (since I’m pretty sure that a person with a functioning brain is still alive... I cant think of several different scenarios, disturbing to various degrees).

The world’s population has risen to 11 billion - I guess that’s why ALIE thought there were “too many people” (but her reasoning was as flawed as Thanos’ - instead of killing people, how about increasing or just better redistributing resources?).

It’s also confirmed that a Wallace was the POTUS at the time, meaning that the President and the administration went to the underground bunker at Mount Weather to survive the apocalypse (after which, as we know, they did the North Korean thing where they nominally live in a republic but their leaders are really hereditary).

Callie calls the US regime at the time “fascistic”, echoing how Diyoza characterized it in season 5.

Callie,her friend Lucy and August were all members of the environmentalist group Tree Crew (who already had the same symbol we later see Trikru the clan using), apparently declared illegal or terrorist or something by the Wallace administration.

Callie and Grace Cadogan also used to be members of the Second Dawn cult, led by her father Bill, together with her brother Reese. August also used to be a member. Possibly as a child of some other members.

Becca Franko - described as “tech tycoon” and “reclusive billionaire” - had not been seen in public for a year, since she went to her Polaris space station (to work on the Flame, as we know), a year after she created the first ALIE (and quickly realized ALIE had a fatal flaw). She also owned her own network.

One other piece of info about this world: they had holograms as a means of communication.

Something that was not in the news and not known to the public: it seems that quite a few people were “in the know” about the fact that a nuclear apocalypse may happen (whether they suspected it would be ALIE, or thought there would be a nuclear war) - and even had a code word for it, “Anaconda”. Bill Cadogan was one of the people who knew it. The POTUS and his administration obviously had enough time to evacuate. It’s mentioned that a lot of people immediately started trying to get to the bunkers.

Cadogan and Becca did not personally know each other before the apocalypse, but he apparently had “friends” in many of the space stations. This explains how she knew where the real Second Dawn bunker was located. But whoever these “friends” were, they clearly did not pass on that knowledge to the future generations on the Ark, since even Jaha, who researched Second Dawn, was only able to find public info - articles, Cadogan’s biography - and didn’t even know where the decoy bunker was, let alone the real one.

The most important thing the backdoor pilot needs to do, of course, is introduce compelling, interesting characters. It did pretty well in that regard - Callie is a likable protagonist, and the fact that the antagonists - Bill and Reese Cadogan - are her father and brother, gives more emotional resonance by putting family relationships at the center. The new characters have some similarities to the main characters from The 100, but are at the same time different enough.

The comparison between Callie and Clarke is the most obvious. Oddly enough, Jason tried to draw a difference between them by saying Callie is focused on saving “everyone” rather than “her people” - which makes me scratch my head, unless he means that Callie will always remain absolutely the same through the prequel show, since Clarke also started off by wanting to save everyone - and that was her driving motive for a long time, until the plot kept putting her in situations where she had to choose between her friends and family and strangers, where the latter would often be aggressors attacking her people. What strikes me as the biggest difference i- not just between Callie and Clarke but between all these prequel characters and the main characters of The 100 - is their background and the world they have grown up in. Clarke and Callie are both “princesses” - from the privileged background, but in Clarke’s case, it’s privileged relative to the majority of other people from the Ark, like the Blakes or Raven (which meant things like, nicer living quarters, opportunity to watch recordings of old soccer matches as entertainment, probably less worry about not getting the medicine you need), but in comparison with the way the most of the viewers live... definitely not. The world Clarke was born in is a post-apocalyptic world of scarce resources and constant fight for survival, and even her happy (by those standards)’ life in that world ends a year before the Pilot, when her father is executed and she has spent a year in solitary confinement, expecting to be executed herself - before she’ and 99 teenagers are sent to Earth as “expendable”. On the other hand, Callie, Reese, August, Tristan and others grew up in a world similar to our own. There are, of course, many people in our world who also have to fight for their own day-to-day survival every day, but the Cadogans are rich, and the rest of the Second Dawn members and their families are no doubt not far off. This is Callie’s house:

Some of these middle-class and upper middle-class kids are rebellious, idealistic and optimistic and worry about the fate of the world, like Callie, Lucy and August. On the other hand, there’s Reese, whose driving motivation is to impress his father and gain his love. He’s a rich boy with daddy issues, but he’s also a victim of emotional abuse - maybe physical, too (if we take into account a cut scene showing a training session where his father injures him, under the explanation of making him tougher or whatever). Callie and Reese are only the second sibling dynamic we see explored on the show (I’m not counting Emori and Otan, since the latter appeared very shortly), and this dynamic - a sibling rivalry between a rebellious girl who is her father’s favorite even while she opposes and rejects him, and her jealous brother who wants to impress his father - is completely different from the Blakes. (It reminds me a bit of Gamora amd Nebula - and I’ve just realized this is the second time in this review I’ve referenced MCU.)

Watching this family dynamic, I was reminded of another family that paralleled and contrasted the Griffins: the Lightbournes. Particularly when Grace called Bill a narcissist with psychopathic tendencies and he was entertained by that, In the flashback in 6x02. Simone called Russell a megalomaniac - but that was really said as a cute joke, as the Lightbournes were happily married, and Simone was just as bad as Russell, and even more ruthless than him. But in both cases, we have destructive rich white guy megalomaniacs who made themselves into gods, and want to bring back their dead daughters. Daughters are both extremely intelligent, brilliant and charismatic, but completely different in personality. (The mothers, while all very different, seem all to have been medical professionals - I’m not sure about Grace, but Callie does mention learning how to stitch a wound from her.) Callie sees that her father is an a-hole and rejects his values, and is an idealist and altruist who wants to do the right thing and save people (while Josephine was a selfish narcissist). Her mother Grace is somewhere in between, as she also left Second Dawn and doesn’t fully agree with Bill - but will often go along with him, and tries to keep peace between the other family members, and thinks their family needs to “set an example”. With the Griffins, we had an idealistic, altruistic father and a daughter with similar characteristics, who adored him and misses him after losing him, and a mother who was similarly concerned with helping others, and the conflicts between them were about how to go about these solutions. With the Lightbourne, we had the evil version of the Griffins, and the Cadogans have a more complicated dynamic. Callie is more comparable to Clarke, and Bill to Russell.

But one aspect in which Bill Cadogan is much worse than Russell is - where Russell loved his family, maybe a bit too much, considering what he did to bring them back, Bill loves himself and his “savior” role more than anything. Maybe his love for Callie comes close - and I get the impression that one of the main reasons he loves her is because he respects her and she challenges him - but it is still not his main motive. He is ready to punish his ex-wife for disobeying him by leaving her to die. Reese is an a-hole, but it’s hard not to feel sorry for him when he thinks for a moment that his father is worried for him (when Bill runs up to Reese, who's injured) but Bill immediately shows that all he cares about is getting the Flame, so he can get the final code for the Anomaly.

Another issue is, of course, that Callie, Reese and Grace are POC, but I don’t know if race - or sexuality, or gender - will ever be raised as an issue on the prequel show itself - or if the world pre-apocalypse and right after it is supposed to be as post-race, post-sexuality, post-gender as the current timeline of The 100 is. On The 100, for instance, Thelonius and Wells Jaha being black or Clarke being bisexual or a woman, were not issues that affected their status - only class issues existed; if the pre-apocalypse society was different, then the show could explore Callie, Reese and Grace being very privileged in terms of class and status in SD as Cadogan’s family, and lack of privilege in other respects.

I’m not sure I fully buy the way Callie easily goes along with her mother and leaves her best friend to die. It seems to go against the rest of her characterization. But maybe it shows that she still wasn’t a full-blown rebel at this point, in spite of participating in the protests against the government and in spite of rebelling against her father - maybe she still wasn’t able to really rebel against her mother, too.

Interesting line - as Callie stitches Lucy's injuries, Lucy says: "I don't want to be scarred for life" - which may be foreshadowing for Callie being scarred and haunted by the fact she left Lucy to die? Unless Lucy turns out to somehow be alive - but worse for wear. Which would again haunt Callie, too.

I guess Callie’s failure to at least try harder is supposed to be what drives her to try and save other people, after she learns that there was still room and resources for almost 100 more people in the bunker - and when she sees August fighting tooth and nail to save his girlfriend, when she is barred from the bunker because she’s not “Level 12″. August is clearly a character the show is setting us up to like - these scenes are reminiscent of Bellamy fighting to open the door for his sister, and his name evokes the Blakes (Octavia was named after Octavian August’s sister)..

(Sidenote: Callie mentions a high suicide rate (20 suicides in the last 6 months, twice as many attempts) - and this is something that would realistically happen in such a dire situation. It’s a bit unrealistic that it apparently never happened with Wonkru.)

The SciFi plot points relevant to the overall plot make an appearance when we see the Anomaly Stone on Earth, which Bill found in Machu Picchu and brought to the bunker (and we get an explanation why he didn’t use it right after the apocalypse but spent two years in the bunker instead - he didn’t know how to activate it - not being able to find the last two symbols)... and when, two years later, Becca Franko arrives from Polaris in her pod, as we saw in 3x07, with Nightblood as the cure against radiation she’s about to offer everyone, and the Flame in her head.

A few words about how I feel about Becca. While she is here positioned in opposition to Bill Cadogan - who is definitely a megalomaniac a-hole and a villain - I can’t see her as a pure unambiguous and unproblematic good guy we should stan, as Callie stans her. For starters, Becca is also a megalomaniac - she calls her second AI “the Flame”, comparing herself to Prometheus! (But she makes me think of Dr Frankenstein, and the full title of Mary Shelley’s novel was Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus.) She is, of course, as a genius scientist, a lot more capable and competent than Cadogan,but she also has a huge savior complex (only she is focused on the idea of her AI being the savior, rather than herself), and is also another big capitalist - a “tech tycoon” who owns her own space station and her own network (and was so powerful and politically relevant that the Chinese and the Russian space station were refusing to join the rest of the stations until the US station destroyed Polaris - Becca was apparently seen as a rival strong enough to challenge the US government?). She worked for a big corporation (Eligius) which colonized other planets and used people - prisoners - as “expendable” work force that can be left to die if necessary. And knowing that she had Nightblood developed more than 7 years before the apocalypse, and that she was worried about what ALIE could do - I wonder why she didn’t offer Nightblood as the solution for a potential apocalypse before it happened, rather than isolating herself on Polaris to work on the Flame. That was one questionable decision - another one was putting the people on Polaris in danger and letting them die, so she could get the Flame to Earth. I could be more understanding of this decision if I could embrace the idea of the Flame as more important than anything, the one thing needed to save the world, as Becca believed it was. But her idea of a sole savior who will help everyone after being enhanced through an AI is something I find pretty questionable and a bit disturbing in general. To be fair the Flame definitely did fulfill its role once and help a person with a good mind use it to save the world - Clarke in season 3. But that was one time, to save the world from ALIE. This, however, doesn’t really justify passing the Flame on and on and giving people political power with it - even without knowing how distorted her initial idea would become in the Grounder society, surely anyone can see the potential for tyranny there? And Becca was aware that 1) the Flame could also make a bad person become even worse and powerful (as it has with Sheidheda) and 2) someone like Bill could use it to destroy the world, according to Becca herself. Seems like a way too big a risk to take.

There are apparently 744 different Anomaly symbols, which means an “infinite” number of combinations, according to Becca (err, not really; it’s a really, really huge number, but it’s not “infinite”, which bugged me a little, since I wouldn’t expect a scientist, especially one who uses the Infinity symbol as her logo, to use the word “infinity” as an exaggeration).

Becca manages to activate the Stone, not because of any scientific knowledge she has, but because the Flame, apparently, gives her enhanced hearing - allowing her to hear the sounds of the Stone, where each sound stands for a symbol. (Dogs can apparently also hear those rather unpleasant sounds.) Everything in this episode makes it clear that it is the Flame itself that Bill needs to find the code, it's always been about that. (Him thinking Callie is in there is just a bonus - emotional connection.) The Flame had no one's memories/spirit in this episode before Becca died, and Becca made it clear to Callie that it’s all about the Flame itself. If the Disciples knew Clarke didn’t have the Flame anymore, they wouldn’t need Madi or Sheidheda - it’s not about the memories, not even Becca’s., it’s that piece of plastic that's buried on Sanctum, if it can still work. (Or maybe they need Picasso :p.)

The most mysterious moment and the biggest question of the episode is - where (when?) did Becca go and what did she see when she activated the Stone the second time and when she and Callie saw the white light coming from the Anomaly? This is different from the green light we see when the Anomaly takes you to other planets. The white light is probably connected to transcendence and/or the Judgment Day that Becca said she saw - which Cadogan, with his typical arrogance, believes he is ready for. but Becca believes no one is.

"It wasn't to open the bridge to another world, it was to remake this one" - this line would make me think that our protagonists are meant to rebuild the Earth - but at this point, I find it hard to see how this could happen over in just 7 episodes, with how the current storylines are going. So maybe they’ll focus on rebuilding Sanctum, after all.

For opposing Bill’s plans, Becca is locked up for 5 days, tied to a pipe (geez!) and, guessing what’s about to happen, she explains the Flame to Callie and tells her to take it and never allow Cadogan to have it, as she believes he could destroy the world with it. (Another often asked question was how the Flame survived Becca’s burning - we learn that it can and that it’s programmed to save itself.)

Becca is burned by Second Dawn Disciples led by Reese Cadogan, presumably at his dad’s orders. Which maybe was supposed to evoke the popular idea of “burning a witch”, but the historical fact that burning at the stake was the traditional punishment for heresy fits even better. There’s been speculation that the memory we saw in 5x10 was his - but that’s incorrect: Madi experienced that memory, she felt being burned, screamed and yelled what Becca was yelling, and we saw it from her POV - the Second Dawn members that were around her and herself reflected in their helmets.

Another memory we saw from Madi, the one we saw her draw in 7x09 (and which I initially mistook seems to be a memory of Becca or other people going into the Anomaly) seems to actually be a memory of the moment when Becca first interacted with the Anomaly Stone and talked about it with the other people in the room - Bill, Grace, Callie and Reese. In other words, every one of the Flame memories from this period may be Becca’s - we have no evidence that would help us learn who else took the Flame after her death. It could be any of the characters who stayed on Earth - Bill is the only one who definitely has never gotten his hands on it.

Retcons and Easter Eggs

I’ve always thought that the world-building, especially when it comes to the Grounder society and culture, was the weakest part of the show. Jason obviously followed some of the common tropes of post-apocalyptic fiction when it comes to the portrayal of Grounders, but didn’t think things through - and at some point, probably realized and/or heard/read all the criticism of the show and thought: “This really doesn’t make any sense”, came up with the Second Dawn backstory, and eventually came up with this expanded backstory, which gives many new explanations. Even though we still don’t have the answer to the biggest question: how a society made of bunch of modern people, survivors, could deteriorate into a tribal society with a medieval level of technological development and lack of knowledge about science and the past culture and history - over a few decades. I guess we need to see the prequel for that, but there are some ideas how it could have happened. I liked most of the retcons in this episode, such as:

Trigedaslang was devised by Callie as a child. The idea of a new language developing naturally over less than 100 years never made sense. (The “it’s a pidgin” explanation never worked either - as Trig apparently developed without the influence of any other language or necessity to communicate with people who don’t speak English. It’s just distorted/changed English.) The only reasonable explanation was always that it was an artificial language - we just didn’t know when it was made.

Finally we get an explanation about the fact that Grounders originated from the Second Dawn survivors and were influenced by their mottoes (”From the ashes, we will rise”), but at the same time, worship Becca as “Pramheda” and make their leaders take the Flame - in spite of the fact that Cadogan and Becca were rivals and that the latter was burned by the Second Dawn members.

The fact that two factions already exist - Callie’s (adores Becca, wants to save as many people as possible by using Nightblood, clearly trusts in science) and Reese’s (Second Dawn true believer, burned Becca, needs the Flame for other purposes) may start to explain how things started going wrong and the society fractured.

Speaking of which, the Conclave seems to have originated from Reese Cadogan’s obsession with the fights his father made him have with him and his sister, and his dumbass idea of using a duel to determine who gets the Flame. This is a better explanation than “it is after an apocalypse, so they just started having death tournaments for reasons”. Callie, on the other hand, is much more pragmatic and doesn’t seem to care much about tournaments as a way to prove oneself - because she doesn’t need to, so she does the Indiana Jones/Harrison Ford thing and just pulls the gun and shoots him in the shoulder. One of my favorite moments in this episode.

“Tree Crew” gets the award as the least expected and funniest new piece of info/retcon, though that begs the question of how the other clans got their names. I’ve joked that Ice Nation were a group of ice hockey fans... but for all I know, maybe that’s true! :D Or maybe the “Trikru” name was later misinterpreted as something to do with living in the woods, so the other clans started having names like “Boat people” or “Shallow Valley people”.

August made up the term Nightblood.

"You must choose wisely" comes from something Becca said to Callie, about choosing the person to give the Flame to. Too bad that later Commanders didn’t know it meant “find the most qualified person” and instead got the weird idea that it meant making a bunch of kids fight each other and that one of them winning somehow means the dead Commander’s spirit “chose” their successor.

One thing that definitely makes a lot more sense now is the Grounder’s bizarre fashion sense, I can easily see a bunch of 21st century upper middle class/rich teenagers thinking it would be super cool to wear warpaint, tattoos and dreadlocks (even if you’re as white as the original Sheidheda), and some later Commander going: “I want to wear a crown! No, you know what would be cool? That thing Indian women wear on their foreheads? You know that thing? I could wear that!”

Easter Egg: Callie was reading Ovid’s “Metamorphosis” at home just before the news of the nuclear apocalypse came - the same book that Niylah gave as a gift to Octavia not long after they went into the bunker (5x02). And maybe it is literally the same book - they sure weren’t printing any new books and someone had to bring that book initially to the Second Dawn bunker during the first apocalypse. In 5x02, it was symbolic of Octavia’s transformation into Blodreina. Here, it may be symbolic of Callie becoming a leader, or the transformation of the entire society.

But some other retcons don’t work well:

The Flame’s abilities have been retconed so many times, but this is the first time we learn that it enhances the Commanders’ senses - which is a big plot point, as it allowed Becca to hear the sounds of the Stone. We have never heard about that before or seen any indication that Lexa or S5/6 Madi had any enhanced sight or Matt Murdock-like super-hearing.

So why was Becca called the Commander aka Heda? I don’t mean the fact that she was never one - Callie could have decided to call her the first Commander as an homage. But why that term? The flashback in 3x07 made it look like it was because Becca was wearing a suit with the word “Commander” (because she took the actual Commander’s suit before she left Polaris) - but since everyone knew who she was, why would that make them start calling her Commander?

Prequel speculation

There’s a lot of reasons why I’d like to see the prequel picked up. Firstly, because Callie is a likable and charismatic protagonist. Reese could be an interesting antagonist as he is her brother - and while he has been a grade A a-hole so far, there’s room there for character development, especially with his relationship with his sister, backstory of abuse by their father and the probability that he’ll understand at some point that he won’t be able to get the Flame to his dad even if he gets it. There’s also the fact that their mother will need saving at the start of the new show (if it gets picked up), and certainly a lot of other possibilities for family drama. And we’d probably also see Callie change and be faced with difficult and morally ambiguous situations that test her, much as we’ve seen with Clarke over the seasons.

Several other things mentioned by Jason in his interviews sound quite exciting:

Lost-style flashbacks to the characters’ lives pre-apocalypse: I’d love this. It would present a contrast before and after the apocalypse, and flesh out characters, and let us learn more about things like, what the Battle of San Francisco was, which wars was Diyoza in, more about Diyoza’s role as a freedom fighter/terrorist... can we get more Diyoza backstory?

the possibility of seeing the origins of the Ark and ancestors of our main characters like Clarke, Bellamy and Octavia (and we know we would see the ancestors of these characters, Jason mentioned that - the guy clearly does know what the fandom likes and wants), immediately doubled my interest. I just hope there’s a good idea how to do that without 1) the two stories looking completely disconnected (it seems this won’t be the case as Jason mentioned that Callie’s people will have to go to space to make more Nightblood and this will allow crossovers) and 2) with a good explanation how the people on the Ark, 97 years later, did not know about the survivors on the ground, about the Earth being survivable, or about the Nightblood, which had been used by Eligius years before. The line "Dad had friends on more than one space station. They already know we're here" also begs for an explanation.

on the ground, we’ll see Callie and co. looking for more survivors (after all, there were more bunkers and other shelters) and offering them Nightblood as a “cure” - which could lead to a lot of interesting situations (and potentially pretty current commentary, if there are people who refuse it)... On the other hand, this could also lead to some more moral dilemmas when they run out of the Nightblood shots (they have 2,000 at the moment, and again, Jason has indicated that they will run out of NB and will have to create more).

Some of the big questions include - who becomes the actual first Commander? How does the society develop from there? When and how is the Anomaly Stone deactivated on Earth, and where is it now? How does Becca’s knowledge eventually get lost? We’ve heard it’s because the data got corrupted/deteriorated over time, but it’s a little too convenient that even Madi still had Becca’s memories, but the scientific and technological all other knowledge was gone during the following 95 years.

I have some ideas how it could go. A lot of people (including, obviously, Bill himself in-universe) wonder if Callie became a Commander and would like to see her be the first Commander. But Callie is the first Flamekeeper, and I don’t see her going “I’m the best and most qualified person, I should have it”. This doesn’t preclude the possibility - she may finally take it for similar reasons Clarke did in season 3, because she has to in order to do something important and there are no other candidates around. But that would be too optimistic an option. Maybe Reese manages to get his hands on the Flame, but Callie or August or someone from her faction manages to disconnect the Stone so he wouldn’t be able to get it to Bill? Or maybe someone else - say, Tristan, who so far can be summed up as “that while guy a-hole who hangs out with Reese” - managed to get his hands on it and then make himself Commander? If people like Tristan or Reese become the Commander, that would work better in terms of explaining how things went so wrong with the Grounder society.

There have been speculations if these characters are ancestors of this or that character we know. Maybe Tristan is an ancestor of this Tristan from season 1 (the guy who was sent to ‘slaughter’ the 100 and was killed by Kane in 2x01)? People are often named after their grandparents, sometimes even after their parents, or celebrated ancestors - names can get passed on like that, and Tristan isn’t exactly the most common name. Or, if Tristan manages to become a Commander - that would make it a popular name.

In any case, the prequel needs to provide a convincing explanation how the society of these survivors and their descendants went from what we see in this episode to the Grounder society we know. But this is my big concern about the prequel - and it’s the problem that many prequels have: however they get there, we know how things turn out; we know it all somehow goes wrong, and that not only will the antagonist fail in their initial goal (getting the Flame to Bill), but the protagonist, Callie, will ultimately fail in her attempts to create a better society. Instead, the Grounder society will descend into tribalism, worship of violence, and constant wars between a bunch of clans, the Flame won’t be given to the person chosen as most qualified but will be fought over by a bunch of children selected on the basis of “special blood” (as Nightblood becomes rarer over time) and forced to kill each other, and most of Becca’s knowledge will be forgotten, as Grounders become technologically underdeveloped and unable to really defend themselves from the Mountain Men, who will learn about them in a few decades and start using them as blood supply.

On the other hand, knowing that the protagonists will fail and that everything will go wrong is often the case with prequels (e.g. regardless of their quality, Star Wars prequels were certainly watched by many people), or, for that matter, with some period dramas (e.g. Babylon Berlin, which I love - set in the Weimar Republic, which means that we know all the time while watching the show that things will go horribly wrong on the level of the society). Sometimes that sense of doom doesn’t turn me off as viewer and actually makes the story more compelling in a way. But that would certainly be a difference from The 100 - no matter how dark, we can still hope things will turn out well and a good solution will be found. Or maybe everything will go even worse. We don’t know how things turn out with the humanity in general. In this prequel, we would know.

Body count for this episode: in the present day, no one. in the flashbacks... over 10 billion people.

Rating: 9/10

#the 100 #the 100 7x08 #anaconda #the 100 backdoor pilot #the 100 prequel #callie cadogan #calliope cadogan #clarke griffin #bill cadogan #becca franko #reese cadogan #grace cadogan #becca pramheda #the anomaly

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kainetestament · 3 years

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Falcon and Winter Soldier Episode 1 and 2 breakdown.

My oh My, Marvel is really giving us some sort of like a reality check in here. They added twists here that our current society are facing to hopefully “probably” teach us about our humanity as an individual.

In Episode 1, the series started out with Sam being on a mission in Tunisian Airspace to save Captain Vassant, who is now help hostage by LAF, there’s no reference to LAF in the comic, but here in MCU – it is describe as a criminal organization who is taking advantage of the commotion of the reverse blip in order to make profit. And here, Batroc makes his appearance once again after his first appearance in Captain America and Winter Soldier. Just a quick fact, Georges Batroc is portrayed by Georges St-Pierre, who not only shares his first name, but St-Pierre is a MMA Champion with a record of 28 matches of 26 wins and 2 losses, *woooot*, no wonder his moves are so fluid.

Moving on, Sam is now in Washington giving his speech as he surrenders Captain America’s shield, in which he believed will be put in the museum in honor and respect for Steve Rogers, but little did her know, there was a conspiracy behind it (which we’ll discuss later). James Rhodes still tried to talk some sense out of him, but Sam’s always reply with “It feels like it belongs to someone else. That someone else is Steve.” But let’s try to pay attention to what Rhodey say’s to him back.

World’s a crazy place right now. People are… Well, nobody’s stable. Allies are now enemies. Alliances are all torn apart. The world’s broken. Everybody is just looking for somebody to fix it.

It makes me think that Rhodey is specifically referring to Wanda when he said nobody is stable, not the people of the world specifically, because when we speak to someone, we know that everyone else are experiencing hardship, but we will always use someone as an example for the conversation, but on this case, they avoided referencing Wanda directly. Also the series takes place “months after the blip”, we don’t have the exact timeline yet, but we do know it takes place after WandaVision (two months earliest) and before Spider-Man Far From Home. So Rhodey receiving a report of Wanda’s actions, and Vision’s revival and Westview rampage is not impossible. The “Allies are now enemies. Alliances are all torn apart.” reference can have double meaning, considering what they did in WandaVision where they made the audience feel there’s more to that statement. But this can be an easter egg to Dr. Strange where they use the same tagged line for the movie prep while the alliances could referring to Avengers itself (though it already is, but they still considered that HQ as their home till Thanos destroyed it), S.H.I.E.L.D (we know this is not the same SHIELD of Nick Fury as he is now in space as hinted in SM:FFH), S.W.O.R.D (with Hayward abusing his authorities), and possibly the Sokovia Accords because of what Wanda and Vision did in Westview. But as I said, because of what Marvel did in WandaVision, in the end , they could probably just dismiss it as some government related stuff.

We now have Barnes who is reliving in his nightmares of the killing. Plate Number 10872 FQ is a reference to Marvel Comics called Introducing the New Captain America and Bucky that was publish in October 1987, where John Walker is now the new Captain America as shown at the end of the episode. Other think I actually like about Bucky’s therapy session was when the doctor asked for his phone, he is using a flip phone, not just any flip phones, looks like a AT&T Cingular Flip 2 (I guess it pays off learning about phones because I used to work for them, ahahaha), and since its year 2023-24 in this timeline, it’s quite fun to see this small detail done so perfectly because AT&T no longer service 2G signals since January 2017 (if I remember it correctly), to give way into 5G services. Anyway, this attention to detail about Bucky using a 4G flip phone is pretty amazing. And how am I guessing this is an AT&T phone? Well, in Infinity War, the phone Steve gave Tony is also another AT&T Flip Phone which I think is a Z223 (a 3G flip phone – not to be confused with Z222 which is a 2G version and both phones look identical). It’s quite funny actually that AT&T, who is the parent company of WarnerMedia (WB who owns DC) is very present here.

Then now we see Sam going back to his family whom he hasn’t visited for quite some time. Here he sees the struggle of his sister, and tried to offer his help. We can probably assume as per his behavior that when they go to the bank, their loan request will be approve because of his affiliations of saving the world and for being the Falcon, but reality check slapped him hard, the guy didn’t even bother listening to their plans and straight out denied their loan application – which was made clear in Episode 2 as to what the problem could actually be.

We now also see Bucky answering the set-up date Yori made for him with the woman name Leah, who works as a waitress at the Japanese Bar/Restaurant called Izzy. As their conversation proceeded, Bucky ran away to find Yori under the pretense of owing him his lunch, when in reality, it was his guilt of killing his son who became witness of his assassination.

Episode 1 ends by introducing the new Captain America, holding the shield Sam surrendered in the museum.

Episode 2 started with John Walker visiting his Alma Mater, Custer’s Grove High School. His full introduction even played Captain America’s theme song only re-arrange to match modern era. During his interview for GMA, he mentions that “I’m not Tony Stark, I’m not Doctor Banner, okay? I don’t have the flashiest gadgets, I don’t have super strength. But what I do have is guts.” Mentioning these lines could probably a way of him to get the sympathy of the people, by saying I’m not Tony Stark is like an indication that he doesn’t have the money, brains (to invent), or Iron Man suit that can make him powerful. By saying he’s not Doctor Banner, who have seven PhD’s and can transform himself into the Hulk, and debatable as the strongest Avenger, he can make almost like an assurance to the people that as an ordinary human, he have the guts to fight to the best of his abilities.

Bucky who is watching the whole interview, have a smirk on his face for disbelief and disappointment that his best friend’s shield is now in the hands of a wanna be. It then cuts to Sam who is also in disbelief that everywhere he go, he is seeing the face an unfamiliar guy wielding the shield that Cap gave him. He got ambushed by Bucky to told him he shouldn’t have surrendered the shield to which Sam replied “No, of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen. You think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?” – which I believe is his wholehearted feeling as he was cheated and betrayed by the government. But let us also pay attention to what Sam said after Bucky told him “This isn’t what Steve want.”

Oh my God. So what do you want me to do? Call America and tell ‘em I change my mind?

It’s easy to assume that the government and him probably had a conversation about becoming the new Captain America, but more than likely he declined, that’s why in Episode 1, Rhodey told him “I see you’re gonna make me ask. Why didn’t you take up the mantle?” Well, it’s probably more complex than his “It feels like it belongs to someone else.” –but we’ll talk about it in a bit.

I find it really funny about Bucky jumping off the plane feeling nervous, yelling even. I think the purpose of the director and writers are doing this is basically to give Bucky the opportunity or making the audiences feel that, even though he was an emotionless, robotic-like assassin, he can change and by including the rules his therapist gave him, can help him gain his humanity back.

1. Can’t do anything illegal.

2. Nobody gets hurt.

3. Unspoken (probably to introduce himself not as the Winter Soldier but Bucky Barnes or just simply smile). Dr Raynor only says that “The whole point of making amends is to fulfill rule number three.”

Also I really just wanna guess who those under 10 contact numbers are. We are sure its Dr. Rayner and Sam, I’m guessing it also has Steve’s old number, I wanna guess T’Challa too, so that’s four of them. Hmmmm, can’t really think of anybody else.

By the way, the SMILING thing. Right now, Bucky’s smiling is so unnatural, but even so, if he keeps on doing it, one day, he can smile naturally. And now we can also see him showing another kind of emotion, NERVOUSNESS – when he was about to jump down the plan. I'm pretty sure if he is his former Winter Soldier, he won’t even feel the slightest nervousness jumping off the plane, let alone landing gracefully, in contrast to here where he landed, let’s admit it, quite shamefully, even Torres will surely agree with me here. Then there's also the AGGRAVATION towards the new Captain America because of the shield. And the most important part of his humanity that’s resurfacing is his GUILT or CONSCIENCE, where his nightmare and Yori’s presence speaks very loudly.

While Bucky is stealthily walking, Sam references him as a White Panther, which is basically him being Caucasian and came back from his like rehabilitation in Wakanda, he has become like opposite of T’Challa’s Black Panther. And now Bucky corrects him by saying his new moniker is now White Wolf, a name that T’Challa bestowed on him (if not referred only).

Now for the action part, we get to witness once more Bucky’s Super Soldier ability by seeing how he outruns the second truck and catch up with the first truck, and these are 14-wheeler trucks (they’re scary in real life ahaha). Anyway, the battle began after the suspected hostage turns out to the head of the group, threw Bucky onto the windshield of the second truck, then pulled up by the other two members on top of the truck and John Walker and Lamar Hoskins joining them after.

I’m pretty sure STACKIE fans out there went nuts with a bit of that fan-service they did, when Falcon dive under the first truck on the way to the second truck to save Bucky, but I think the wings got caught on the ground making Sam loose his balance that’s why they went rollin’ on the yellow flower field – which looks like either chrysanthemum or daisy, which is in flower language, Yellow Daisy means a good friend while Yellow Chrysanthemum can mean neglect of love or sorrow. It actually looks more like daisy, it’s just that the leaves kind of looks like chrysanthemum… I could be wrong, but if it is daisy, then putting a yellow daisy here will be could actually mean that a good friendship is about to start and the chrysanthemum could mean their sorrow stemming from Steve and living up to his expectations.

We now have Bucky and Sam being invited by John and Lamar to ride with them on their jeep stating that it’s about 20miles to the airport and they need a ride. After joining them on the jeep, we now can see finally having a proper conversation. But we can see that Sam actually have to asked them twice about what are they doing there, they have successfully avoided the first time by stating that they checked their location thru Red Wing and on the second time, Lemar responded with “Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable.” Then John followed it with “Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause.” –which from my understanding, still doesn’t answer Sam’s question, that why Sam sarcastically responded with “Usually said by the people with the resources.” Then now John offered the two to join them, in which Bucky frankly declined, the Lemar tried to rub salt on their wound by saying their asses were getting kicked till they show up, that starts to tick off Bucky, until he mentions he’s called Battlestar, which pissed Bucky off even further. I’m not really sure why he got pissed after hearing that, but I’m guessing (yes, guessing, meaning I'm not sure) that the reason he got pissed was because Lemar have a hero name, pretty much like Bucky being the Winter Soldier/White Wolf and Sam being the Falcon, and of course Steve being the true Captain America, Bucky probably felt insulted that not only America made a new Captain America, they even gave him a side kick with a hero name.

Bucky got off the jeep first then John apologizing to Sam by saying he’s not Steve and is not trying be like him, but trying to be a Captain America in his own way. Sam left the jeep as well after he felt insulted when John wanted Sam and Bucky, who are Steve’s best friend and partners, to be his wingmen. John clearly have no idea of what their relationship really is and calling them Steve’s wingmen rather than Steve’s friend or partner, but he used wingmen, that John interprets as they are just someone that supports Steve, he’s clearly belittling them, that’s why Sam scoffs and responded with “It’s always that last line.”

We now see the Flagsmashers arriving on a place of one their group’s supporters to get some rest. Their leader Karli received a text message saying “You took what’s mine. I’m going to find you and kill you.” –which I think is a message from John Walker. Because in the comics, John became like a super soldier from Powerbroker, and in here, we can probably theorized that the real reason he is in Munich is to get his hand on the serum but Karli stole it from him before he could get his hands on it.

We now have Sam and Bucky on military plane and Bucky telling Sam that they should take the shield back, in which Sam told they can’t do it just like that cause the last time they did (also in Germany), Sharon – Peggy’s niece who was also a CIA, helped Steve and Sam get their weapons back (shield and wings before the airport battle in Civil War), then they went on hiding until Thanos came, and Bucky was taken in by T’Challa to cure him at Wakanda. Sharon was punished for her actions, and she will be making her appearance any time soon since the ED also have her picture included but her name is not yet present since she hasn’t made any appearance yet.

Bucky brought Sam to Baltimore, MD to meet the Black Super Soldier, Isaiah Bradley. As they walk thru the neighborhood on the way to Isaiah’s house , looks like the show have already hinted what’s about to come in the future. The kid upon being introduced called Sam the Black Falcon, instead of just simply the Falcon. Sam played with the kid by asking him “Is it because I’m black and I'm the Falcon?” and the kid confusedly replied with “Well, technically, I mean, yes.” Then Sam playfully responded with “So are you, like, Black kid?” and they started laughing it off. But if you look at it from a different perspective, it is kind of like the premonition, because within their conversation, it can only be done by them, because if a white person actually say that phrase? I’m pretty sure, that laugh in the end will not be present. There’s more to it but I’ll discuss it after.

Sam and Bucky arrived at Isaiah’s house, and Bucky introduced him to Sam by saying “He was a hero. One of the ones that HYDRA feared the most, like Steve.” As their conversation proceeded, Isaiah explained that others like him that were sent in Goyang never came back, so the military sent him to deal with Bucky and he won that battle. But instead of being celebrated as a hero, the military or government decided to brand him and put him in jail for 30 years. I’m not gonna use his comic s counterpart since MCU have their own story retelling. But as I mentioned before, it’s a premonition.

Then Bucky and Sam left the house and Sam feeling a bit frustrated due to disbelief that other than Bucky and Steve, there’s another Super Soldier still alive for decades. Then here comes a bit of reality check in America. A patrolling police catches them having an argument. Soon after, the police asked for Sam’s ID but didn’t asked for Bucky’s but instead asked Bucky if this man is bothering him. Now this is actually quite a very, very good reality check and I applaud the Malcolm Spellman and Kari Skogland for putting this kind of a wakeup call here. These scene or event is very powerful and it mirrors the reality of the black community experiencing the racial profiling from the police brutality in America. We can also see the house behind Sam that says STOP THE VIOLENCE, then on board beside it reads words like, HEAL THE SICK, STOP KILLING, PLANT A SEED, LOVE, TRUST. It was not until Bucky dropped the hint by saying “Do you know who this is?” and one of the police recognizing them as the Avengers and the police stared at Sam for bit and realized its Sam Wilson aka the Falcon and started apologizing by saying he didn’t recognized him since he isn’t wearing his goggles. With the police instead of just letting it go, still tried to look for a loophole, but sadly the loophole is not with Sam, but with Bucky, who missed his therapy session because of going with Sam on Munich then to Baltimore.

We now see Bucky being released thru John Walker’s authority and Dr. Raynor summoning both of them for a therapy session. The scene started out quite funny but later on, it hit hard again. Dr. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravates him.

Bucky: Why did you gave up that shield?

Sam: Why are you making such a big deal out of something that has nothing to do with you?

Bucky: Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield, that is… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.

Sam: Shut up.

Bucky: … So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.

Sam: You finished?

Bucky: Yeah.

Sam: All right, good. Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand. But can you accept that I did what I thought was right?

We can now also see that before Bucky leaves, it dropped yet another hint of what’s about to happen by asking his doctor, “What was rule number two again?” which is more likely will be broken and even Dr Raynor acknowledges that it will.

I’ll skip John Walker scene, and now we have Karli loadingthe plane with their Super Soldier serum supply. When a member of Flagsmashers stay behind to delay the Power Broker’s, one of Power Broker’s men who is seen wearing a bullet proof vest was seen talking over the phone saying “They got away.” whom I think he’s reporting to John Walker.

Now let jump back with Sam and Bucky. Sam asked Bucky what he’s thinking, Bucky responded with “When Isaiah said my people”… Sam understood that when he said “my people” – meaning white people that’s why Sam said “Oh, don’t take it to heart. That’s not what he meant.” To which Bucky corrected him saying “No, he meant HYDRA. HYDRA used to be my people.” And now they are off to see Zemo and now we see Zemo inside his cell.

Pheewwwwww, that’s a long post… ahahaha, see you on the next one, still working with Snyder Cut but im still considering of I should post it or not, after all, so many groups out there already made a video and article out it…but we’ll see…

#TheFalconAndTheWinterSoldier #TheFalcon #WinterSoldier #WhiteWolf #CaptainAmerica

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