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maulusque · 4 years

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WHAT IF MAUL KIDNAPPED ANAKIN RIGHT OFF OF TATOOINE

(I started writing this and then it got out of hand and now it’s 3:30 in the morning, rest of it’s under the break so i don’t monopolize your dash)

So for whatever combination of reasons, Maul spits out the kool-aid and gets really disenchanted with Sidious a lot earlier than in canon. He starts wondering things like “why is he not telling me his master plan if i’m so important to it?” and “why do i get nothing more than vague promises of power sometime in the future, when i should be guaranteed a position as his second-in-command, after all I’ve done for this guy?” and “why does he treat me like i’m disposable, and then constantly tell me i’m crucial for his plans?”

and he starts thinking things like “hey wait a minute, none of that childhood torture made me better at anything sith-related, it just gave me crippling trauma that actually impairs my capacity for self-control and incredible violence” and (possibly due to his experiences at Orsis Academy) “oh whack looks like kids learn a lot better and faster when they’re, like, having fun? Whatever ‘fun’ is?”

and anyway by the time he gets to tatooine with orders to “find that stoner jedi and kick his ass”, Maul is pretty annoyed at his master. And when he senses not one, not two, but THREE powerful force-presences on Tatooine, one of which vastly eclipses any other force presence he’s ever felt, and belongs to a nine-year-old slave boy, Maul gets an idea. You know, (he thinks), his master sure would love to get his hands on a force-baby like that. Master Sidious sure would be evilly thrilled to have an extremely powerful nine-year-old delivered directly to his doorstep on coruscant, with the jedi having to do all the heavy lifting of training the kid. Master Sidious would probably want nothing more than to have this kid be taken in by the Jedi, so he can start grooming a new apprentice.

And Maul, full of spite and an as-yet-undiscovered need to adopt every force-sensitive in sight, decides to deprive Sidious of a potential apprentice. He follows Anakin to Naboo (in this universe, Anakin still wins the podrace, still wins his own freedom), and, after the fighting is over, sees a prime window of opportunity, and kidnaps Anakin right out from under the Jedi’s nose.

(In this universe, Obi-Wan does not cut Darth Maul in half and dump him down the garbage chute- Maul, unwilling to do his master’s bidding any longer, doesn’t go full out against Qui-Gon, doesn’t kill him, and Obi-Wan doesn’t get that grief-and-rage filled boost that helped him dismember Maul last time. The fight ends, the Jedi are convinced that Maul is dead, and Naboo is freed).

Once Maul has the kid, since he’s a pragmatic guy, he also returns to Tatooine and takes the kid’s mom. Maul doesn’t know how to cook, do laundry, tie shoes, or any of that shit. He doesn’t want to have to PARENT the kid, he just wants to train him.

Maul has zero money, and also zero subtlety, so he stomps into Watto’s shop, grabs him by the neck, and says “The boy's mother is coming with me. You will disable her slave chip and let her leave unharmed, or I will squeeze your head off.” Watto complies. For Anakin, this is his first real impression of Maul- storming the junk shop and threatening his former master for the freedom of Anakin’s mother.

Maul is determined to do a better job training Anakin than Sidious did training Maul. Because FUCK Sidious. Maul can be a WAY better Sith than Sidious ever allowed him to be. And since Maul is slowly realizing how... unhelpful... the way he was raised was, he’s determined to figure out how to do it better.

So he reads. He reads training manuals, child psychology books, teaching books, studies on motivation and performance, anything he can get his nerdy little hands on. He learns that frightened children don’t perform well. He learns about “trauma”, and how “trauma” makes it hard to control your emotions sometimes. Well, you can’t have THAT in your ultimate sith apprentice. Okay, so no scaring Anakin and no traumatizing him. Maul quickly realizes that literally everything he does frightens Anakin or his mom, and frightening Anakin’s mom also frightens Anakin (cut him some slack, he’s literally never been in a positive relationship, Maul has no model for any behavior other than “evil abuser” and “subservient slave”).

Maul is not an idiot. He knows he’s not doing it right. He’s reluctant to start teaching Anakin ANYTHING until he knows he won’t accidentally damage his precious spite-apprentice. So he mostly ignores the kid while he reads and learns.

He also observes. Specifically, he observes Shmi Skywalker. Somehow, she seems to be able to interact with Anakin without scaring him. She can even tell him what to do without scaring him. She can teach and correct him without scaring him. And she never physically hurts him at all. Maul is kind of blown away- he didn’t even know it was possible to interact with people like that? HOW does she DO it???

So Maul watches and learns. He practices. Shmi helps, guides him, tells him when he messes up and tells him how to do it better. Maul gets a lot better at restraining his murderous urges. Turns out, if you immediately kill everyone who annoys you, it’s hard to ask them for advice after. The other person Maul gets pointers from is C3PO, the protocol droid the kid dragged along. Maul understands 3PO better than he understands Shmi and Anakin. 3PO is a droid. Maul was raised by a droid. Maul knows how to talk with 3PO, whereas talking with Shmi or Anakin feels like wandering around in a fog full of landmines.

So anyway, Maul and 3PO become unlikely friends, and, as Maul, determined to out-parent Sidious in every conceivable way, learns more and more social skills, emotional intelligence, and interpersonal skills, he truly comprehends how fucked up his own childhood was. There’s rage. There’s grief. There’s murderous desire for vengeance. But there’s also Anakin. Who would be scared if Maul smashed the ship or killed random people to vent his anger. Anakin, who needs something called a “positive role model”, who needs to be taught how to use the Force, and who needs the adults around him to have their shit together. There’s also Shmi, who makes him soup and hot chocolate when he’s feeling bad, and tells him off for breaking things, and who helps him get better at being a real person, and who doesn’t seem to want anything from him other than a general expectation of not hurting her or her son. So Maul deals. He grows. He heals, slowly. There’s setbacks, and gains. And somewhere in there, he starts teaching Anakin how to use the Force.

The problem is, Maul learned to access the Force first through fear and anger. Turns out, it’s really hard to teach someone fundamentals of force usage via fear and anger without first having to traumatize them. So right away, Maul hits a barrier. He doesn’t have any clue how to teach Anakin a different way though. He needs help.

But also, FUCK the jedi. NO WAY is Maul asking the Jedi for help, he hates the Jedi. Maul is still a Sith, he’s just a new, better kind of Sith, the kind that trains apprentices who are gonna kick WAY MORE ASS and be HEALTHY WELL-ADJUSTED PEOPLE while doing it (let him dream, ok?). So Maul starts hauling Shmi and Anakin around the galaxy, seeking out any non-Jedi Force-users they can, to learn Force techniques that the Sith didn’t teach Maul.

They spend time with the Guardians on Jedha, with those weird duck-people from that one episode with Jar-Jar’s girlfriend, with some wacky monks on a tiny island in the ass-end of nowhere, and even some time with a long-lost sith cult in a box system in the middle of the Unknown Regions. Maul learns. Anakin learns. Maul uses what he learns from the other force-users, combines it with what he knows, and teaches Anakin even more. The Jedi and the Sith are really the only two groups who really use the force for Big Impressive Things, like telekinesis and lightning and whatnot, so while the other force groups would have a lot to teach them both, they wouldn’t really be able to teach Anakin how to levitate something. And you can’t be the kick-assiest, bestest Sith Apprentice Ever if you can’t levitate shit. So Maul takes takes all these new techniques, like “being calm and chill when you meditate instead of super pissed off” and “using the Force while not being filled with incredible rage” and “mindfulness techniques” and “who knew you could do cool stuff like floating rocks without having to exhaust yourself by hating everything in existence, including yourself” and applies them to the skills and methods he already has. He and Anakin have to do a lot of fumbling and exploring and mistake-making, but they figure it out. And Anakin learns. And he kicks ass.

When Anakin is 11, Maul hauls him off to Ach-To to dig a crystal out of the roots of an ancient tree. He tells Anakin to hold it and meditate, to let his emotions rise around him, to feed them, to pull them through the crystal, let it resonate, let it take on the shape of his strongest feelings. After all, that is how Maul was trained to bleed his crystals. Maul’s pain and fear and anger yielded him red crystals.

Anakin comes out with yellow. Determination, fierce protectiveness, drive, hunger for justice, righteous fury. That is Anakin’s lightsaber.

Anakin grows up, planet-hopping with his Mom and Uncle Maul in a beat-up freighter with under-the-hood enhancements out the ass (Maul ditched the Scimitar right after Tatooine so his master couldn’t instantly track him down, and Maul and Anakin are both huge mechanics nerds and bond over things like “but what if you put ANOTHER PLASMA CORE IN THE ENGINE”, so this ship is, uh, certainly some sort of thing). Anakin grows up learning a hundred different Force traditions- just about every major Force tradition in the Galaxy (except for Jedi), and more than a few obscure ones. He grows up, tinkering with his droid, learning Juyo from Maul and how to sew a button from his mom. He grows up, beholden to two destinies only: “Help me take down Sidious, because he’s an asshole and a shitty Sith Lord” and “do whatever the fuck you want, because you are a Sith and no one gets to tell you what to do” (”except me.” Shmi interrupts. “Sith Lords still have a bedtime.” “Sith Lords still have a bedtime,” Maul amends, having no desire to repeat what happened when he encouraged a ten-year-old Anakin to ignore all the rules on purpose).

And what Anakin wants to do is what he’s always wanted to do- go back to Tatooine and free the slaves. Maul thinks that a big project like that would be an excellent learning opportunity for Anakin. He also wants Anakin to succeed, so he sits him down and talks logistics. How do you free the slaves without hundreds of slave owners detonating their chips when they hear what is happening? How do you keep them free once you do that? How do you get them jobs, clothes, food, houses? What about the ones who want to leave Tatooine? What about the ones who want to stay? And what about the economic upheaval that will happen when you deprive a whole planet of its cheapest source of labor? When Anakin is fourteen, they start planning.

When Anakin is eighteen, they make their move. Anakin, coordinating with Shmi, who returned to Tatooine three years earlier to organize things on the ground (living with a woman named Beru Whitesun, who is a gateway to the Freedom Path network), activates several massive orbital EMP devices, frying every electrical device on the planet, including slave chips. (The EMPs came from a pirate friend of his mom’s, who seems to do whatever she wants as long as she makes him hot chocolate). All over the planet, lights go out, slave chips fry, and radios go silent. And Shmi’s agents get to work. Ordinary citizens all over tatooine grab their rifles and head out. They meet up with others in their settlement, and the teams sweep the area, following a plan devised by Skywalker and Whitesun. They systematically visit every house in every settlement, city, spaceport, and town that is known to house slaves, and tell the slaves to grab their families and most treasured possessions and follow them.

(Tatooine is a sparsely populated planet- you can count the major settlements on two hands. If it weren’t, this would never have worked.)

Not many slaveowners put up much of a resistance- fifty angry masked people pointing guns in your face tend to make you compliant. The only slaveowner who puts up more than a token resistance is Jabba the Hutt. His resistance, however, lasts about thirty seconds, before Anakin cuts off his head.

Maul meets Anakin at Jabba’s palace, where he’s rounding up the last of Jabba’s cronies.

“No trouble?” Maul asks.

“Nope,” Anakin replies. “You?”

“None.” Maul said. Turns out, it’s like, super easy to take down an entire criminal organization when you can turn up to a meeting of the Hutt family heads, kill them all, and waltz out past all their security forces without breaking a sweat. (Seriously, it’s kind of hilarious how Maul is literally just that good).

“The slaves here are freed?”

“Yep,” says Anakin. Then frowns. “Hold on...” He senses a presence. Big, hulking, simple, and starving. He can sense that, whatever it is, it hasn’t seen the sunlight or been able to move freely in years.

So anyway, that’s how Anakin turns up at Mos Espa at first sunrise, riding on the back of Jabba the Hutt’s pet rancor. “Who’s a good girl,” Anakin says, scratching behind her ear nubs. “You are!” And she is a good girl. Padme (”I just think it sounds like a nice name, you know?”) is very good at dispersing angry slaveowners who look like they might start rioting.

The slaves freed overnight have been gathered together at pre-designated safe zones-mostly warehouses or large buildings that Shmi has been buying up over the years for exactly this purpose.

(The slaves living in remote settlements, at moisture farms and homesteads, didn’t get a visit from the freedom teams. However, Shmi had a plan for them too. She has made overtures to the Tusken tribes. Once she managed to negotiate her way into speaking to one of the leaders without getting killed, she sold them a story, a dream. A revolution. Free the slaves. Transform Tatooine. She doesn’t promise the Tuskens to expel humans from the planet entirely. She promises them equal rights under the law (she also promises the existence of laws in the first place). She promises them the right to raise Banthas, the right to traverse their ancestral lands and the return of sacred sites taken from them, the right to trade, the right to control who passes over their lands. She promises them the right to water and shade. And, she promises them half the seats on the ruling council she plans to set up. And so, on the night the EMPs blow, Tusken raiders visit every homestead on Tatooine (again, there’s only a few hundred, a thousand at most), and kidnap the slaves. Perhaps not the most reassuring experience for enslaved peoples who have been taught their entire lives to fear the Tuskens, and not without reason, but, nevertheless, it is freedom).

As the new day dawns- Tatooine’s first dawn as a free planet- Anakin, Maul, and Shmi know that the easy part is over. Now, they have to house tens of thousands of people currently cooped up in warehouses with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They have to establish and keep iron-tight control over the planet and its settlements, and quash any violent reprisals before they gain momentum. They also have to completely rebuild an economy completely upended by the overnight emancipation.

However, Shmi’s not the only one who’s been busy for the past few years. While Shmi was on Tatooine, planning a revolution, Anakin and Maul were traversing the galaxy, gathering resources, using the Patented Maul Method (TM)- breaking into the headquarters of powerful organizations and threatening to kill everybody in charge unless they did what they said.

As the second sun rises, ships begin arriving in Tatooine’s orbit. Pop-up housing is dropped onto the outskirts of Tattooine’s settlements, the kind that mining companies use to set up new bases on mineral-rich asteroids. The accommodations are small and sparse, but each family has a kitchen, bathroom, beds, and private space. Huge generators are hooked up to cool the new housing. Anakin knows that the already-existing slave quarters, made of stone with no windows and mostly underground- are already built to keep the occupants cool, but he refuses to make the former slave population live in slave quarters. Some of the freed people are moved into Jabba’s old palace, some into buildings abandoned by rich business owners who fled the planet when they saw what was happening. Food, water, medicine, clothes, books, toys, tools, and shoes are deposited. (the Republic’s equivalent of the FBI had been utterly baffled when Galaxy’s three biggest criminal organizations started moving cargo that looked less like a drug trade and more like a disaster relief mission).

Anakin walks among the newly freed slaves, reassuring them- yes, you are free. Yes, you will be fed and housed and clothed as long as you need it. Yes, we will try to find your child/husband/wife/mother who was sold years ago. Yes, you can go home, you can do whatever you want.

He also asks for volunteers. And he gets them. Hardly anyone would say no to the chance to work with the Skywalker, who once was a slave like them, but freed himself and returned, who freed the slaves in one night of glory, and appeared at sunrise riding a rancor.

Anakin sends out messengers, all across the planet. “Tatooine is a free world,” they say. “All slaves are hereby freed, by order of the He who Walks in the Sky. Any slaveowners who, by their own free will, turn over their detonators will not be harmed. Any who resist, will be.” Not many resist.

At the end of that first day, as the suns are setting, once the freed peoples of Tatooine are fed, and given water, and sheltered, Maul comes to Anakin.

“I am proud of you.” He says. “You have come into your power, you have mastered yourself, and so have mastered the Force. You have the freedom and the power to do anything you choose. You are no longer my apprentice. Lord Skywalker, you are a true Sith Master.” Anakin pulls him into a hug. He maybe cries a little bit. Maul maybe cries a little bit. Maul maybe also feels mildly annoyed that Anakin is a full head taller than him now.

(Sidious would be truly, utterly offended at Maul’s criteria for Sith-Lord-ness. “THAT’S NOT SITH” he would have said. “THAT’S BARELY EVEN DARK SIDE ADJACENT, YOU ARE DILUTING OUR THOUSAND YEAR HERITAGE-” but Maul wouldn’t care about Sidious’ stupid opinions, anyway).

And Anakin and Shmi get to work. They employ the newly freed people of Tatooine, constructing permanent houses, tearing down slave markets, building critical infrastructure. Anakin pays them more than a living wage, thanks to the extremely deep pockets of Crimson Dawn. He brings in doctors and teachers, and guarantees healthcare and education for all who want it (whenever one of Crimson Dawn’s higher-ups says “wait, why are we dumping massive amounts of money into this one random-ass planet?” Darth Maul just casually sidles up behind them with his lightsaber until they remember that he can literally just show up anywhere, at anytime, and kill them unless they do what he says. If Maul’s busy, he sends 3PO instead- 3PO’s been outfitted with about ten times as much weaponry as is legal, and can be very convincing when he wants to be).

While Anakin works on infrastructure and supporting the freed peoples of Tatooine, and unfucking the economic trainwreck they caused, Shmi and Beru work on the government. They write down a few, very basic rules-Tatooine is to be ruled by a council of people, half of whom will come from the Tusken tribes, all of which shall be selected by fair and free election. All citizens of Tatooine shall have the right to vote in these elections, and the right to vote shall be guaranteed to all- except for those who have ever owned or sold a sentient being. (it was a huge debate in the Lars-Whitesun-Skywalker household, this matter of restricting voting rights. In the end, it was decided that slaveowners, and ONLY slaveowners, were to be the sole exception for universal suffrage). Every citizen of Tatooine is guaranteed access to food, medicine, and water, and has the right to have their grievances addressed by the council.

Shmi works quickly to gather her council- she knows she has to do it fast, to prove to the Tuskens that she is as good as her word. The first elections are chaotic, and perhaps not completely non-violent, but in the end, there is a council of twenty representatives, with Shmi Skywalker representing Mos Espa.

The Council proceeds to have raging- and occasionally violent- debates about the structure of their future government. What rights to guarantee citizens. Should they have a court system? What about a financial system? How are they to guarantee water, food, and medicine to everyone? What even are taxes?

The Rebuilding of Tatooine is long, and hard, and contentious. There are arguments and rage and fighting- the repatriation of traditional Tusken lands is especially fraught. But Shmi promised, and so she makes it happen (Anakin and Padme may have helped too). Maul, for his part, keeps training Anakin, and keeps managing the criminal underworld with a careful balance of death threats and actual death, but mostly stays out of the way of Anakin’s Senior Project.

Soon, Anakin is able to re-purpose the pop-up housing, since most people have moved into traditional Tatooine-built homes, suited to the environment. The newly restructured economy is tentatively taking its first steps, and Tatooine’s baby government is becoming less and less dependent on intergalactic criminal funding (partially thanks to Anakin confiscating the entirety of Jabba’s personal fortune). He spends a lot of time in Council meetings, trying not to scream at people while also trying to stop Padme from eating them. The Council debates what is next for Tatooine, and eventually, they vote to petition the Republic for membership. Tatooinians, as a people, including the Tuskens, are fiercely independant, but, as Shmi points out, joining the Republic would guarantee them to certain things like humanitarian aid, a voice in decisions affecting interplanetary trade routes and taxation, legal legitimacy and the right to call on the Republic for aid should their sovereignty ever be threatened. Most importantly, slavery is illegal on all Republic planets, which means that if any slave-owning organizations ever pushed in on Tatooine, there would be another (much better funded) organization to call on to help quash it.

The Republic requires that a petitioning planet’s head of state visit the Senate on Coruscant to ask the Senate for entry into the Republic. The Council, grumbling, re-jiggers their constitution to allow for a “chief councilor”, and promptly elect Anakin to the position (”Fuck me,”) Anakin says. Maul laughs at him, then sobers and tells him to be careful on Coruscant (”My former master lives there.” he says. “Mind your shields, and do not let him know your true nature. You are not yet ready to take him on, and you have your planet and your people to think of.” “Yes, Uncle Maul.” Anakin says. “I will be careful.”).

Anakin shows up in the Galactic Senate, sandy robes, uncombed hair, and half smirk on his face. “I am Anakin Skywalker, free person of Tatooine,” he says. He presents the case for Tatooine’s admittance to the Republic in a booming, confident voice, drawing on his inner strength- his righteous anger and determination to ensure his people’s future- to keep his voice from wavering.

There are grumbles. Muttering. No Senator wants to be the one to blatantly say “no”- it’s a sort of miracle story, Tatooine, the little planet that rose up and threw of the shackles of slavery and now wants to join the Republic- the exact sort of mythos that the Republic itself is built on. It’s bad PR to vote against that little planet. But at the same time, Tatooine is a sandy, useless dustball that’ll need fiscal support from the Senate, with nothing to offer in terms of economic value. Many Senators are debating with themselves, not whether or not to say “no”, but how to vote “no” without losing ten points in approval ratings.

Until the Senator from Naboo, a diminutive woman who somehow reminds Anakin of his rancor, stands up. She gives an impassioned, off-the-cuff speech, reminding the Senate of how her own planet had thrown off the shackles of oppression not ten years ago, how the Republic was founded by planets like Tatooine, and how, most importantly, they had no legal basis to deny them entry, and if the Senate voted no, Naboo’s lawyers would litigate the issue six ways from taungsday- which, due to a clause in the Senate’s constitution that forbade them from passing legislation while the issue of a planet’s admittance to the Republic was on the floor, would effectively paralyze the Senate until the courts made a ruling. And, as Padme made sure to emphasize, if the court’s decision was not favorable, she would appeal. She could feasibly stop the Senate from doing anything for years, if necessary.

Tatooine is admitted to the Republic.

“Two Senators,” Anakin demands. “In order for my people to be fairly represented, my planet requires two Senators.” When complaints are made, Jar-Jar Binks threatens to explain the complicated dynamics of a planet attempting to grapple with a colonial past. He doesn’t have to. Tatooine gets its two Senators.

Anakin meets with Senator Amidala in her office, to thank her.

“Of course,” she said. “I remember a little boy who helped free my planet- how could I not help you when you needed it?”

“Uhh, thanks, yeah, that’s, really nice of you. Like your hair. Which is nice. In an objective sort of way,” Anakin says, because there is no universe in which Anakin is not a complete idiot in front of Padme. “I named my rancor after you,” he blurts.

Before Anakin is scheduled to leave Coruscant, the Jedi send a knight to scope out the new planetary leader. Obi-Wan Kenobi shows up at Anakin’s hotel room, and goes “Oh. It’s.... you.”

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin grins. He only knew him for about two days when he was nine, but he still greets him like an old friend, like a brother. They fall into easy, teasing conversation. “I thought you were dead, I confess, after you disappeared from Naboo,” Obi-Wan admits. “I am truly sorry that I was unable to fulfill Qui-Gon’s promise to train you as a Jedi Knight.”

“That’s ok,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively. “I got trained as a Sith instead.” Then he freezes. Oops. He was not supposed to say that. Maul would be so disappointed in him.

“Beg pardon?” Obi-Wan says.

“I, uhh, got trained, as a, uh, sift...er? Instead? A sand sifter? I sift sand for a living?”

“You said Sith.”

“No I didn’t, I definitely said sift.”

“No, you said Sith.”

“I definitely did not.”

Anakin changes the subject, and Obi-Wan lets it drop. He’ll tell the Council, of course, but he honestly cannot fathom the concept of this kid being a Sith. He senses nothing Dark about him- well, at least no more dark than is present in any sentient. Besides, it’s not like there are any Sith Lords around anymore, ever since he killed Maul (luckily, Obi-Wan doesn’t see the picture in Anakin’s wallet, a candid shot 3PO took in the cockpit of their family’s ship. Fifteen-year-old Anakin, at the controls, hyperbrake still on with his hands on the hyperdrive lever, Maul, standing behind him, hands gripping Anakin’s seat and face distorted half-way through a panic-induced rant about flight safety, and Shmi, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, laughter on her face and knitting needles in her hands).

Anakin contacts his mother, tells her the good news. The Council, moving with alacrity, elects Tatooine’s first Senators. And four days later, one year after the Dawn of Freedom, Senator Shmi Skywalker and Senator Ooutrigh (a Tusken warrior) of Tatooine arrive on Coruscant and address the Senate for the first time.

Of course, while Anakin has been growing up, planning for Tatooine’s future, and annoying the shit out of Maul, Palpatine’s own plans have continued apace. Barely four months after Tatooine is admitted to the Republic, Obi-Wan finds himself in an arena on Geonosis. The battle goes much differently this time, partially due to the fact that Anakin has retrofitted the cargo bay of his family’s ship to house Padme (the rancor, not the Senator), and descends onto the Arena sands just as Yoda and the Clone Troops arrive, and deposits both Padme’s (the rancor, and the Senator) into the melee.

“Hi, Obi-Wan!” Anakin calls, whipping out his lightsaber to deflect the hail of blaster bolts (Maul would disapprove, but Maul isn’t here, he’s ten clicks away, chasing down the Jedi dropout Sidious replaced him with).

“Anakin, what the FUCK” Obi-Wan says, staring at Chief Councilor Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine, riding a rancor and swinging an honest-to-Force yellow lightsaber.

“Master Yoda, what the FUCK” Anakin says, later, after the battle is over, when he finally gets Yoda to answer his questions about the clone troopers. “You found out about an entire-ass army of slave child soldiers commissioned AND PAID FOR by one of your own council members, and your reaction is ‘oh thank goodness, now we have an army?’ What the FUCK is WRONG with you?!” Yoda tries to explain to Councilor Skywalker that the situation was dire, they’d had no choice, but Councilor Skywalker just keeps repeating “AN ARMY OF SLAVE CHILD SOLDIERS” at him. “No choice, we had,” Yoda says yet again.

“BULLSHIT, you had no choice!” Anakin yells. “You could have chosen to not use the entire army of slave child soldiers that you legally own!”

“Let Kenobi and the others die, you would have? Hmm?”

“PROBABLY, YEAH!” Anakin hollers (”Thanks,” mutters Obi-Wan). “Sometimes the choices you have all really suck, but you still have to make them! You can’t just pretend you didn’t have any options, you HAD OPTIONS, and you chose the one that involved using a SLAVE ARMY OF CHILD SOLDIERS.” He gestures behind him to the battlefield, where clone troopers and medics are moving amongst the bodies, white and red stark against the sand, tallying their dead brothers.

Yoda shakes his head. “emotional, you are, young Skywalker.” he said. “Cloud your judgement, your feelings do.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking emotional!” Anakin practically screams. “I have personal beef with slavery, so excuse me if I feel emotions about it. Your problem is that you’re able to use an ARMY OF SLAVE CHILD SOLDIERS and not feel bad about it! Your lack of emotions is clouding YOUR judgement!” He stomps off. Yoda shakes his head. Skywalker is young, and too close to the issue of slavery to really have perspective on it. He does not understand. It was a great loss to the Jedi Order when the Council rejected him, all those years ago- if he had been trained as a Jedi, he would have learned to put aside his emotions about slavery, and he would have understood why it was necessary now. If Anakin could have heard what Yoda was thinking, he would have turned right back around, picked Yoda up, and punted him like a limmie ball.

Anakin and Maul return to Tatooine. Maul offers to assassinate the entire Jedi Council, but Anakin says no. He’s still fuming about his conversation with Yoda. He knows he gets emotional. He knows that Yoda isn’t entirely wrong- he knows he lets his emotions cloud his judgement sometimes. It’s something he’s worked hard on, over the years, him and Maul. How to take a step back from the emotions howling in your head, and how to view the situation without them getting in the way. And what kinds of situations you should let your emotions guide you. Anakin thinks he’s damn well entitled to strong emotions about slavery.

Short of declaring war on the entire Jedi Order, Anakin doesn’t know what to do about the Republic’s slave army. The Tatooine Council releases a public condemnation of it, explicitly calling it slavery and calling for the clones to be freed. The Council seriously debates joining the Separatists, until Padme (the Senator, not the Rancor) and Shmi look in-depth at the Separatist Council, which is buried deep in the pockets of corporate interests. Shmi files a lawsuit, under the Republic’s anti-slavery legislation, suing for the freedom of the clones. It’s a battle of miserable inches, and meanwhile, the war rages.

With Dooku gone, Sidious’s only means of controlling the Separatists is through Grievous and Ventress, both of whom are loose cannons whose loyalty (and competence) he seriously doubts. It’s frustrating for him, and not necessarily better for the Jedi and their army (of slave child soldiers). Sidious needs to keep the war in careful balance, neither side gaining too much ground, to draw it out and grind the Jedi down and manipulate their public image until he can heap all the blame on them. Without Dooku to pass down his orders, he has no way of keeping a firm check on the Separatist Council, and the Seps are in serious danger of completely overrunning the Republic. The droid army is fifty times as many as the clones, and the Separatists have the Trade Federation, the Banking Clans, and all of the major military tech corporations on their side. Honestly, it’s a testament to the Jedi and the Clone Army that they haven’t lost the war in the first month.

Speaking of that first month, Anakin doesn’t spend long on uninvolved in the war. Scant weeks after Geonosis, the Separatist Army threatens to roll right over Tatooine on their way to gaining control of the Outer Rim Hyperlanes. Tatooine has no army, doesn’t even have a police force. It has no fleet, no orbital defenses, and the droid army headed their way has ten times more droids than there are guns on the planet. The Council faces a choice. Ask the Republic to send in the GAR to defend them- ask for an army of slaves to be sent to die on Tatooine, to stain the sand with enslaved blood so soon after Tatooine clawed her way to freedom, or do nothing, and almost certainly ensure the annihilation of Tatooine and her people. To die, or to live by the blood of slaves who died for you. It’s not a pretty choice.

In the end, the choice is taken away from them (and perhaps it’s a kindness, that they weren’t forced to choose, perhaps it’s the coward’s way out, but it is what it is). A GAR cruiser shows up in orbit, and the Council is hailed by a man identifying himself as Captain Rex, commanding officer of the 501st legion of the GAR.

“The Republic sent you here?” Anakin asks, incredulously.

“Well, not exactly.” Captain Rex hedges. “The 501st is due for leave on Kamino, but the hyperdrive was making funny noises, so we decided to stop off in the nearest Republic system to check it out.” Rex shrugs. “If a bunch of tinnies just so happen to show up, it’s not like we’ll just sit back and watch.”

“Why are you doing this?” Anakin asks the clone captain, once they’ve got him on planet and in the council room. He’s got a lump in his throat, and his eyes are stinging. The 501st has no Jedi on board, no natborn officers, and no orders to go to Tatooine. Rex and the 501st showed up here of their own free will. Because they wanted to. To defend Tatooine.

“Geonosis.” Rex says. “On Geonosis, you saved the lives of over two hundred of us. Including me. We couldn’t stand by and let your planet fall to the Separatists, Councilor Skywalker.”

After the battle, during the cleanup, when Tatooinians are passing through the rows of injured, giving out water- giving out life- Rex tells Anakin the other reason.

“We all know about Tatooine, sir.” He says, quietly. “A bunch of slaves who stood up and said “no,” and took their freedom.” He shrugs. “Stories like that, it gives us hope. For the future.” He fixes Anakin with a stare. “If we let that hope die, we die too. Tatooine cannot fall.”

That is the first time Anakin and Rex fight together. Somehow, when the 501st leaves Tatooine, Anakin goes with them- officially, as a consultant/observer, appointed at the request of Senator Skywalker to observe the GAR and monitor the health and wellbeing of the troopers. Unofficially, Anakin and Rex become a lethal team, making the 501st one of the most effective legions in the Galaxy. Anakin isn’t dumb. He knows he’s being a massive hypocrite, running around with an army of slave child soldiers. Rex, however, insists that it’s different.

“First of all, we asked you to come with us.” he says. “Second of all, it’s not like you staying behind would have made any difference in our situation. And besides, scrapping clankers isn’t the only reason I asked you to come with us.” Anakin raises an eyebrow.

And Rex introduces Anakin to his older brother, Cody, commander of the 212th (Anakin is happy to see Obi-Wan again, but appalled to meet Obi-Wan’s fourteen-year-old togruta padawan, because why would you put a CHILD in a warzone, in a COMMAND POSITION). And Cody brings Anakin in on The Plan. The clones will not remain slaves forever, and they will not wait for some elusive promise of gratitude after the war is over. They will take their freedom, and they will defend their own, and they’re asking Anakin, who freed the slaves of Tatooine, to help them do it.

“So basically, you want me on as a consultant.”

“Basically, yeah.” Cody says. “And also as a guy with a lightsaber who can leap fifty feet into the air and dodge blaster bolts. Those are always handy to have around.”

So Anakin and Rex and Cody, and Cody’s small circle of commanders, lay their plans. And in the meantime, there’s a war to fight. Shmi’s still on Tatooine, but Maul comes with Anakin and the 501st. He and Rex get along like a house on fire, but you wouldn’t know it from watching them- they do nothing but argue and needle each other. Rex sarcastically calls Maul “Commander Maul” because it pisses him off so much, and it catches on with the whole legion. Maul constantly mutters about murdering and/or poisoning Rex.

But after Ventress almost chokes Rex to death, and breaks into his mind to make him do her bidding, Maul doesn’t leave Rex alone for a week, and clutches his hand tightly in the medbay. Rex doesn’t mention it, so neither does Anakin.

Padme, on the other hand, makes no secret of how much she loves Rex (the Rancor, not the Senator, though she likes him too). Padme seems to have concluded that Rex is some sort of long-lost hatchling, and can be seen chasing Rex down the hangar bay, trying to corral him into the nest she’s constructed in the corner reserved for her. Rex gets used to surprise cuddles from a massive predator.

The Jedi Council are at their wit’s end with Skywalker, but their hands are full and honestly, he’s a benefit to the war effort, so they assign Obi-Wan to “supervise” the legion, and leave them to it. Obi-Wan and Anakin strike up a deep friendship, unfettered by the baggage that comes with being master and padawan. Obi-Wan finds himself having serious questions about the Jedi’s role in the war, since Anakin is not at all shy about challenging him on the whole “slave army of child soldiers” thing. Obi-Wan is also, quite frankly, too busy to effectively teach a padawan, and by this point, he knows that Anakin’s had some sort of Force training. He’s fought beside him enough to be confident in his skills, and often sends Ahsoka on extended missions with the 501st, and explicitly begs Anakin to help him fill in the gaps in her training. Anakin obliges enthusiastically.

Of course, Maul helps train her too. Obi-Wan shows up on the Resolute one day to pick her up, and asks how her training’s going.

“Great!” She says. “Skyguy’s weird uncle is teaching me jar’kai-”

“Anakin has an uncle?” Obi-Wan asks, surprised. “Who knows jar’kai?”

And so Obi-Wan and Maul meet once again. And Obi-Wan is just absolutely pole-axed.

“Darth Maul?” He splutters. “Is your uncle?”

“Not biologically,” Anakin shrugs. “He practically raised me, along with my mom. He taught me everything I know about lightsabers and the Force.”

“...”

“...you did say Sith, Anakin, you bastard, sand-sifting MY ASS-”

“Oh, it’s you.” Maul says. “I won’t kill you, but only because Anakin likes you.” Obi-Wan throws up his hands.

Somehow, Obi-Wan and Maul come to an understanding. Somehow, Obi-Wan doesn’t turn him over to the council.

At one point, a giant of a zabrak, easily eight feet tall, with skin a poisonous yellow, shows up, claiming that Maul is his brother, and that he’s here to bring him home to Dathomir. Maul takes one look at Savage and goes “Fuck that”. “I will train you in the ways of the Force,” he says. “I can show you power like you’ve never wielded before.” he says. “You shall be a great and feared Sith Lord,” he says. “Have some hot chocolate, you look cold,” he says. “Put on a sweater.” Savage, slightly bemused, comes to terms with the fact that he’s just been adopted.

It’s Maul who figures it out, of course. How could he not? He was raised by Sidious. He knows how devious he is, how his plans have layers upon layers, backups upon backups, contingencies stacked from here to the Outer Rim. Once Sidious moves, you can be sure that any reasonable outcome will be in his favor, because he has completely engineered the situation before you were even aware it existed.

The Sith caused the war and are playing both sides. The Sith caused the clones to be commissioned (these things are trivially easy to figure out, if you’re paying attention). The Sith want the Jedi dead.

“Contingencies,” Maul mutters. “It’s always a trap, and there’s always contingencies.”

When he finds the chip in Rex’s head, he shakes with rage and refuses to talk to anyone, fearing, for the first time in years, that he will lose control and hurt someone he loves. It is Rex who talks him down, who manages to get close to him, who embraces him and lets him cry on his shoulder, then scream and rage and punch the walls. When Maul is able to explain, Rex has to choke back his own terrified, horrified sobs. He holds them back, and calmly looks at Maul and says “What are you going to do about it?”

The surgery, they discover, is simple enough. An astromech can do it in two minutes (C2PO can do it in seventy seconds, and Artoo can’t stand it). When Anakin is told, he goes quiet for a minute, and when he looks back up, it is not Anakin, Rex’s friend, Maul’s kid, who is sitting at the table in the briefing room. It is He Who Walks in the Sky, Huttslayer, Breaker of Chains, who looks back at them. Anakin Skywalker has always wanted nothing more than to free all the slaves. And Anakin Skywalker’s destiny has always been to do what he wanted.

They tell Cody. They modify their plans. They quietly contact medics throughout the GAR, and Artoo quietly sends the details to every military astromech he trusts. When the army is safe from Sidious’ control, Anakin, Rex, and Maul conspire to lure him off of Coruscant. Maul takes over Mandalore, exiling the duchess and announcing a New Sith Empire. Sidious shows up, declaring that Maul has become a rival, disowning his former apprentice and attacking him, with intent to kill. Savage loses an arm. Maul almost loses his life. But as he lies on the ground at Sidious’s feet, arms trembling with the effort of holding the parry keeping Sidious’ saber from his throat, he hears “We’ve got the face shot! Go, go go!” in his earpiece. Gunfire, real slugthrowers, difficult to block with a saber, erupts around him. C3PO and his arsenal, along with Fives, Jesse, and Echo, the 501st’s best ARC troopers, open fire on Sidious. The Sith is forced to back away, raising a hand to stop the bullets in midair. Maul leaps to his feet, and Anakin joins him, lightsaber drawn.

The fight is quick, but brutal. Maul’s hands threaten to tremble with terror, facing down the horror of his childhood, the monster whose treatment of him is woven fundamentally into his psyche, whose shadow has haunted Maul all his life, and still invades his dreams. But he reaches out to his family, to Rex, beside him, steady, full of faith in him, to Anakin, a blazing sun of love and anger, a shield of raw power, and to Shmi, all the way in her Senate offices on Coruscant, cool and calm and soothing like a desert spring as ever-present as the stars. His hands do not tremble. He raises his lightsaber against his master, beside the blade of his son. Together, they beat the Sith Lord back. Anakin binds the Sith’s blade, knees him in the ribs, and while Sidious is thus occupied, Maul cuts his head off.

“You were a terrible parent,” he pants, and spits on the corpse. Then, he collapses, and Rex is there to catch him, and Maul clings to him and shakes, and cries. Anakin reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder, and Rex pulls him in with a look, and together, they surround Maul, a bulwark against the rest of the world, a safe circle for him to fall apart for a little bit. At some point, one of them unstraps the small camera that Maul had been wearing on his chest. Ahsoka has, at that point, already sent the footage to every major news office on Coruscant.

That evening, plastered all over the galactic news, is a video of the Chancellor himself, showing up on a neutral world and attacking its sovereign leader, wielding red lightsabers of all things. And it’s obviously the Chancellor; there’s a clear shot of his face when he knocks Mandalore’s ruler to the ground and the camera gets a good view right up into his hood.

It’s a massive scandal. One tabloid shows the footage with a little counter in the corner, counting up every treaty and galactic law that Palpatine violates onscreen. The only thing that saves Palpatine from impeachment and arrest is the fact that he’s already dead. Inquiries are launched, investigators are sanctioned, documents and hard drives and testimony are subpoena’ed. Padme (the Senator, not the Rancor), spearheads the investigative committee, and within a month, they’ve uncovered decades worth of bribes, backroom deals, contracts with droid manufacturers, clear evidence of Palpatine authorizing Republic funds for weaponry that went straight to the Separatists, and even communication records between the Chancellor and the two military leaders of the Separatists. Grievous and Ventress go into hiding (the Tales of Grievous and Ventress, unlikely buddies forced on an intergalactic road trip on the run from the cops, is a story for a different absurdly long post at 3am). The Separatists break down in chaos, and the war grinds to a halt. In the middle of all the political hurricane, Cody enacts his plan, and the entire GAR simultaneously deserts, and fucks directly off to Tatooine. This ignites another scandal, with Senators calling for Tatooine’s expulsion from the Republic. Shmi stands in her Senate Pod, hands tucked into her roughspun sleeves, listening attentively while Senator Burtoni of Kamino accuses her of theft.

“If Tatooine does not return the stolen military assets, the Senate may sanction the use of force!” the Senator from Ryloth threatens.

“Pardon me,” Shmi says, “May I ask what army the Senate is planning sending to invade Tatooine? I was under the impression that the only Republic army was already there.” There’s a bit of an awkward silence.

In the middle of the shitstorm, before Shmi is arrested and Anakin declared an enemy of the state, Shmi’s lawsuit finally receives a ruling. And just like that, the clones are legally free. And the judge orders the Senate to pay reparations. Anakin cackles with glee when he hears.

Rex and Cody, with the full support of the people of Tatooine, begin the long, hard, work of resettling their brothers and building a life for the vod’e. Shmi files a lawsuit against the Zygerrian Empire. Savage receives a new arm, courtesy of Anakin, who may or may not have added a few extra utilities to it. Ahsoka is knighted, and controversially invites Anakin to be present at the ceremony, along with Obi-Wan. Maul admits, very quietly and where only Rex can hear, that he doesn’t actually want to poison him. “I know,” Rex says, smiling at him. Anakin, meanwhile, finally marries Padme, the love of his life (the Senator, not the Rancor).

And in Mos Eisly, there is a stone slab, pulled from a crumbled wall and stuck upright in the ground in the middle of the square. No one knows who put it there, but someone carved fifty-seven names into the stone. The fifty-seven names of the clone troopers who died defending Tatooine from the Separatist army, at the beginning of the war. The last slaves to spill their blood on the sands of Tatooine.

#maul adopts anakin #and invents a new kind of sith #which is almost nothing like the old kind of sith #just co-opts the name really #rex/maul #kinda? it wasn't on purpose it just happened #my writing #maulusque's writing #might slap this up on ao3 later #we'll see

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dappersheep · 3 years

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Food Fantasy: An Analysis on what killed a Golden Goose (3/3)

Ladies and gentlemen, we've arrived at our final destination.

Again before we start, we have our obligatory disclaimers. I do not own the game or its characters, nor do I claim to know the true history and likely fate of this game. I am entitled to the thoughts and opinions written within this post. Feel free to agree or disagree with the points being made.

This post also remains untagged from the main foofan tag. Only my followers will see this.

We are in the third and final stretch, and the checkpoint is past the cut.

Community

So... here we are, fellow Master Attendants.

As consumers of this piece of entertainment media, we are free to enjoy it however we wish. Appreciating what is there, creating something new from what exists, playing the game by the meta or however you want to play it (within your means and at your own risk of course). There's no one true and absolute way to experience the game.

However, just as you can enjoy something, doesn't mean you can't also point out flaws or shortcomings of the media in question. As an active veteran player, I've already pointed out the many gameplay design flaws already. And I'd be pretty dumb to say that Food Fantasy's writing is perfect. Hell, it has a lot of holes from a worldbuilding consistency standpoint.

And what of things from the community side? Yes, there will be times you'd see content you consider cringe, or something in fanon you don't agree with. Or there happens to be fan theories and fangirling posts you don't like the take of because of X or Y.

And that's fine. If we all happen to play the same way, like the same thing, agree on the same thing and produce the same thing, well, this would be one helluva boring community, wouldn't it?

But what if someone decides the way you're playing the game is wrong and harasses you over it? What happens if someone decides that their interpretation of the game's flavor text and lore is more important than what anyone else thought about it? What happens if someone decides that they're absolutely right, and you and everyone else who disagrees deserves to be bullied out of the fandom?

As much as I want to say we aren't part of the problem why the game is deteriorating, we are unfortunately, part of the reason why the game is as such even if most of the blame is directed towards Funtoy and Elex themselves.

⦁ Whale Authority. Whales will always be part of a gacha game's ecosystem. Without them, the game won't be able to maintain its upkeep costs, moreso for one that services global regions instead of just one. But when a game decides to cater its decisions of what features should be prioritized and when it should be launched around only its most elite paying players' voices -even if that influence has since tapered off-, you know there is something wrong with the publisher's management team and priorities.

⦁ Interguild drama. While I did not personally follow any of this, this has certainly been the peak of in-game tension back in the day. Poaching good players from both competitive and smaller guilds, guild mergers that often ended up making the annexed guild/s the equivalent of UK colonized India or Australia, suck-ups chummying up to guild leaders to keep a spot in an active, high ranking guild (for bragging rights!) despite never contributing much to overall damage, and just general dislike of certain players' attitudes. Actions like this have disillusioned many players about their playing experience and the reason why many eventually just lost the motivation to log into FooFan.

⦁ Cheaters. You know very well about the Hacker-teme I've mentioned before, but that was in context of Elex being incompetent with dealing with them. Here, I would like to point out the players who are desperate to dominate the playing field for whatever reason to the point that they would resort to cheating the ranks with forceful modifications of the APK. Whether it is to rank high in catacombs weekly, get a top spot in daily disaster damage, or weasel their way into the competitive whale ranks of a major ranking event, these are the people who have no qualms messing with the code to give themselves an easier time with the game. And if they're caught? Some pretend that they've made a mistake, some quickly sell the account to escape the blame, some others just scamper away into the dark and hide in the lower ranks where they can't be found. Others simply don't care and keep cheating until Elex decides to finally ban them... if Elex ever decides their rebates score isn't worth saving the account.

⦁ Ship wars. Ah yes, a staple of drama in any fandom. There doesn't need much explanation to this as we've all had our fair share of running into a battleground in whatever fandom we visit. Someone ships BB52 wholeheartedly? Nope, problematic 'age gaps'. Someone likes Napoleon with Pastel? Someone's bound to misinterpret their bios in order to justify that Napoleon was being abusive. Spaghetti and Borscht? Borscht is minor coded, ship her with Vodka instead. Whiskey and Pizza or Cassata? Cancelled! And I've never heard of the Foe Yay trope or pretend I don't know about it! Rarepairs? Disgusting! No fanon in my canon playground! Turkey and Eggnog? Gasp! How dare you, you pedo-shipper-even-though-you-never-said-you-shipped-them-romantically-but-that-isn't-my-point!

⦁ Character Obsession: Bias. On one hand, you love a character so much. Relate to a character so much. You have thus pulled this character into the folds of your bosom and coo at them like a mother dove and get so minutely triggered if someone so much as makes one disagreeable or joking comment about the character that you fly into an overreactive ballistic rage that would make a Canadian goose honk in fear. You don't care what they are in canon. You don't care about the possibility of mistranslation. What matters is the fanon space you carved out for them to exist in and that's all that matters. The problem with this is when this obsession takes over common sense and social etiquette and it steps into harassment territory. You begin to think: I'm the only one who 'understands' the character. I'm the only one who wishes better for the character, everyone else is out to defame them! Oh wait, you like them too? Do you like them the way *I* like them? No? Maybe if you're my 'friend', I'd let it slide. But to everyone else? No one else has the right to like them as much as I do. No one! Never mind that they're completely fictional- No one hurts my bias because in turn, they're hurting *me*!

⦁ Character Obsession: Anti. On the other hand, you hate a character so much. This character just makes you see so much red. Their smug little smirk just makes your blood boil. Their fictional backstory makes you recoil in disgust. You hate that someone else loves a character you hate so much. You cannot *believe* that someone could be so daringly stupid to like a problematic character. They must be problematic too then. They must be hiding real life secrets that are problematic! Yes, yes. That's right. That person's a supporter of abuse. That person's into pedophilia. That person is into military lolita fashion that Japan started the trend of but clearly Japan was part of the Axis Powers! And that... that person... that person... is a roleplayer and a yaoi fangirl properly interacting with minors and adults. How dare they...!

⦁ Fan Translations. Normally it wouldn't be a problem that a group or two or several are translating pieces of the game's lore ahead of the official. But with Elex's very delayed translations and extreme allergic reactions to translating Food Soul bios, people have become dependent on fan-translation groups to get their fix. The problem herein lies... is when the translators get drunk off the power that they are one of a handful in a small community who can magically transcribe the oriental moonrunes into English. The problem starts when the translator starts to have an inclination. The problem starts when the translator loses their professional detachment and start adding in details here and there into the fan translated product that ultimately changes the meaning and direction of the entire story. The problem is also escalated when that translator's embellished product is touted as the truth by their followers. If there was an upcoming character whose backstory is connected to a character they hated (either because of someone or they just don't like the character) and you were hoping to read the fan translation? How would you know that what you get isn't something doctored to the point it's basically fanfiction?

⦁ Social Justice Vigilantism. Sometimes someone does not have a character obsession or need it to be annoying. Sometimes, someone just wants to ring the alarm over something they find 'problematic' in order to police and sanitize the enjoyment of the media for 'everyone'. They no longer really take enjoyment out of a new Food Soul design being leaked, they no longer read the lore just to enjoy what it has to offer. Instead, they nitpick bits and pieces of the design and point it out repeatedly as a reason why the whole thing is bad. They point out bits of the story and inject their interpretations of it without really comprehending what they've read in full and react badly to it. What's worse is that they have no qualms publicly posting their reactions and eagerly and hungrily await those likes and echoes of agreement that they were right.

⦁ Circles of Influence. Everyone has a group they eventually gravitate to in a fandom. It comes with its own pros and cons. Sometimes you join a group because someone you admire is in there, sometimes you join a group because you just want to mingle and see more content. All valid reasons. Arguments can't be avoided in a group, it has to happen... But you have to take care. You have to take care to feel the change in the air of the group. When someone starts pushing people to agree with them. When your most admired people start to feel overly sensitive about certain characters or issues. When you start to feel obligated to spy on other groups outside of this one for 'nonbelievers', 'traitors' and 'heretics' who do not think the way this group does, and that bringing back bits and pieces of gossip as offerings would somehow make you more favored in the eyes of the inner clique or remain inside it. There is a gripping sense of annoyance when that person comes in to complain but you can't do anything about it but nod and agree. There is a pervading sense of fear and apprehension of overstepping an invisible boundary. There is fear that you might be next on the chopping block, after witnessing one of the others being ganged up on and thrown out without a second thought, their name spat upon like they're worth less than dirt. And so reluctant you are to give up what you have with them that when they push you to do something you are reluctant to do, all in the name of 'harmony and justice'... You do it. Even though it would mean offering yourself up to the mob with no salvation, and the stark realization that... [they] never cared about you as a friend.

And we've come to the end of this analysis trilogy. The writing got a little bit strange in this post, but honestly this is the best way I could put it. I'm aware things can and will be more complicated than the bullet points I've written but I'm just one person and I tried very hard to keep details of all the drama that happened in this fandom as vague as possible. Of course, that wouldn't work if you know what I am talking about.

The community is quiet now for the most part, the game is somewhere between limbo and the living plane. Things could be better for us, but I don't really count on it.

I wish I could leave a bit of a moral warning or something. But rather than do that, I just hope this was an entertaining read into one individual's eyes into Food Fantasy and everything that makes it up.

#ravings of a madman #food fantasy but not tagged right

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avengerofyourheart · 4 years

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Feel You Part 1 (Enhanced!reader x Jefferson OUAT)

Characters: reader, Jefferson, Grace, others mentioned.

Summary: You had seen him around the village and knew some of his story, but after coming upon an interaction with the man and his daughter in the market, you felt compelled to help him. However, he may not want anything to do with you. Will your hidden ability help or hurt your chances of making him see a different path?” (OUAT canon divergent)

Warnings: tiny bit of angst, but mostly none!

Word Count: 6.4k

Song Inspiration: “Meet Me in the Woods” by Lord Huron

A/N: It’s here!! My first Jefferson story!! :D I’m so excited to share it with you. Thank you to all who have shown enthusiasm for this story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have writing it! Special thanks to @beccaanne814 for reading this over for me! Also, this story is canon divergent, meaning I’ve changed some of the events from the tv show. Please let me know your thoughts, I love to hear from you all! Thank you!! <3

Part One Part Two (End)>>>

Feel You Masterlist

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“This was a brilliant idea,” you muttering sarcastically, untangling your skirt from yet another caught branch. “I’ll just follow him home and tell him… and I’ll just say…”

Actually, you had no idea what you’d say.

Huffing out a frustrated sigh, you rested a moment behind a tree, peeking out slightly to keep your target in sight. Luckily they were distracted by their own little game, his baritone chuckle and her tinkling giggle ringing through the forest. You considered abandoning your foolish task, but the ache in your chest urged you forward against your will. Taking another deep breath, you checked to see if the coast was clear before trekking onward through the brush and bramble.

___________

Once a week your mother sent you to market for necessary items like eggs or a fresh loaf of bread and each week you dreaded it. The bustling crowds were overwhelming and the experience left you emotionally drained for hours afterward. You begged your mother for her to go instead, but that was never received well. All that came of it was a lecture about responsibility and contributing to the family. Considering that you were already a disappointment as an unmarried young adult woman, in her eyes you were lucky to have a place to live at all.

Entering the market you steeled yourself and aimed to gather all your purchases as quickly as possible. Bread acquired, you now stood impatiently in a queue for eggs when you overheard a conversation a few stalls over.

“Would you take it for eight coppers? It’s all I have,” the man offered to the old woman. A young girl beside him held a soft, stuffed white rabbit in her hands with hope in her eyes.

“Oh, you are a good father. Your last coppers for your little girl’s happiness, ah?” the woman replied, leaning forward with her crooked nose and blackened teeth.

“Thank you,” he said, offering her the coins.

“Oh I did not say I accept,” she rebutted, rudely taking the rabbit from the young girl’s hands. “Alas, I cannot take less than one silver. The economy. You understand.”

The crowd behind them began to murmur, urging the man to make a purchase or step aside. A tightness of concern grew within you.

Embarrassment. Shame.

“It’s okay, papa. Come on. People are waiting,” the young girl told her father, showing understanding beyond her years.

“I will not take ‘no’ for an answer,” the man tried one last time, pleading in his voice.

“Papa, please. I don’t need it,” the daughter assured her father and he relented, tugging on her hand.

“Come on, sweetie.”

So lost in their story, you were unaware of your place until a sharp poke in your back urged you forward. It was your turn to buy eggs. Staring at the basket in your hands, you hesitated. Mother would be furious. And yet, against all logic, you left the queue and followed the man and his daughter into the forest.

Having hidden your basket carefully in a hollow log, you pulled your shawl tighter and kept the duo barely in sight, trying not to draw attention. There was no plan in mind, only an urgent need to interfere drawing you forward. You didn’t even know what was going to happen yet, only that something must be stopped. Their conversation and laughter grew louder and suddenly you realized they had stopped. Now closer than you had planned, you stepped behind a tree and held your breath.

“Papa, I found you!” the girl exclaimed gleefully.

“You certainly did. You must be part bloodhound, my dear Grace,” her father praised warmly.

Grace. Finally a name for the young girl. His was still unknown and your precarious position behind a tree most likely would not offer you good standing to find it out.

“Now it’s my turn to hide and you seek,” the young girl declared playfully.

He exhaled loudly and with a peek you spotted him kneeling to meet her at eye level. “I’m afraid playtime’s over. Though you can still use that nose of yours to hunt mushrooms, enough to sell at market tomorrow. Do you think you can do that?”

A warmth of affection and tenderness flowed through you, tugging at your heartstrings. He truly was a good father. You knew it. The pair set out again and you followed only to stop short as an unexpected, painful iciness forced itself into you. You knew this feeling. Swirling amongst the crowd was that frigid darkness in the market, but you spent more time pushing it all away than trying to discover the source.

The sound of horses startled you as the girl spoke.

“Whose carriage is that?”

Without needing a response, you knew. The man’s answer only confirmed your suspicions.

“The Queen’s.”

A dark feeling of dread filled you, causing your knees to buckle. The roaring in your ears muted the rest of their conversation as you struggled to breathe. Closing your eyes you focused on finding your own center, inhaling deeply and exhaling at measured intervals. Finally calmed enough to move, you stood and leaned against the tree, exhausted. So lost in yourself, you didn’t notice movement until it was almost upon you.

“Hello.”

Startled, you flinched, expecting an angry tirade or worse. Instead, stood the little girl. Dressed in her hooded cloak with hair falling in waves to her waist, she looked at you with eyes wide.

Uncertainty. Innocent curiosity.

“Um...hello,” you replied with a smile.

“Who are you?” she asked, still feeling a bit guarded.

“I’m…Y/N,” you replied, eyes still darting about for her father who might be wary of a stranger. “Are you alone? Are you alright?”

She grinned, bobbing her head. “Yes. Papa sent me out to play hide and seek, but it’s not so fun alone. Will you play with me?”

Still uncertain, you stepped out from behind your tree slowly and gazed toward the small cottage. “Where is your father?”

“Inside. With the Queen,” she said with a downward tug of her lips.

Fear. Worry.

“Oh. Well, I’m sure it will all be fine,” you tried to assure her with a smile. “I suppose we could play until your father is finished?”

Beaming brightly, she nodded. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Hello, Grace,” you replied.

“It’s my turn to hide and you can find me!” she shouted, already scampering into the woods for a hiding place.

Feeling the childhood wonder she radiated, you closed your eyes and began to count aloud.

_____________

“Ah ha!” you said, leaping out to find Grace under a fallen log and she squealed at being discovered.

“I thought that was a good spot!” she replied, almost disappointed.

“It was! Took me almost twice as long as last time,” you praised her.

“I’ll stump you next time. Your turn to—“

“GRACE.”

A loud, masculine voice rang out, causing you both to jump. The young girl’s father was stalking toward you with a purpose, the anger and fear pressing into your skin.

“Papa. I made a new friend and we were just playing, is the Queen—“

“Go inside,” he commanded gently to her with his gaze still on you.

“But, papa, I…”

“Now, Grace,” he growled, leaving no room for discussion.

The girl uttered a quick goodbye to you and then followed her father’s orders. Once she was out of earshot, the man turned toward you with a fearful fury in his eyes.

“Who are you? What were you doing with my daughter?” he barked, suspicious.

“I, um…just as she said. We were playing hide and seek, I’m sorry if—“

“What are you doing here? I’m aware of all who live nearby, I’ve made certain. What do you want with us?” he stalked closer.

“Wha—nothing, I…”

“Wait…you were in the market today, weren’t you? I saw you. Did you follow us?” he asked, the rage in his accusation making you cower.

You didn’t even have a response to that. He was correct, after all. Regardless, he took your silence as confirmation.

“I don’t know what you want, but you will stay away from my daughter. I don’t trust strangers. Leave this place and never return,” he demanded, then turning to go.

Before you could stop yourself, the words burst from you. “Don’t do it!” you cried out, then clapping a hand over your mouth.

Stunned, he paused a moment and turned back. “Do what?”

Breathing in deeply, you attempted to steel your resolve. “Whatever the Queen asked of you. Don’t do it,” you uttered, trembling.

He took a step toward you, eyes narrowed. “How do you know anything about the Queen? Or me? How do you know that she asked something of me? Are you a sorceress? A reader of minds?” he demanded, accusation piercing you sharply.

“No! I…no. Nothing like that. However…” you paused, nervous to truthfully reply. Even knowing what you could do most of your life, there still was no good way to explain it. Which was why you chose to keep it to yourself these days and dealt with the pains of it all on your own. “I do have an… ability of sorts,” you finally admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Ability? What kind of ability? If you did something to my Grace, I swear, I’ll—“

“I would never!” you shouted, finding your voice. “I’ve never hurt anyone, I swear.”

“Then what?” he asked impatiently, but curiosity still kept him in place.

“I am what you might call…an Empath. I can feel other’s emotions. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted and I try to block it all out, but sometimes it’s too strong or in crowds I become overwhelmed. I know it can be seen as invasive, but if I could stop it, I would. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse. And I’m sorry to invade your space or if I crossed a line playing with Grace. That was not my intention,” you finished, staring down at your shoes with arms crossed to avoid his gaze. “She’s a sweet girl and I enjoyed my time with her.”

There was no sound of footsteps, so to your surprise, he hadn’t run in fear of disgust yet. Chancing a glance, you saw him studying you carefully. You felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but you let the silence stretch until he chose to speak.

“An Empath? So you can read people?”

You shrugged and shook your head slightly. “It’s not quite so simple, but I suppose you could say that.”

Widening his stance, he placed both hands on his hips. The anger had mostly subsided, allowing you to breathe again. “What am I feeling right now?” he inquired, curiosity seeping in.

Finally raising your head, you met his eye. The bright blue of them drew you in and even in his suspicion, there was a warmth there. “Are you sure?” you asked, awaiting confirmation and when he nodded you shuddered out a sigh. “Okay. Do you mind if I step forward? Proximity helps a little.”

Wary some, he hesitated, and then nodded again. You took a step forward and he did the same, leaving a few feet of distance between you. He stood statue still, waiting for you to do something extraordinary but all that was needed was a few moments of focus. You took the opportunity to breathe and take in the sight of the man before you.

Other than the stunning blue eyes, he also had a striking jawline and plush lips that were almost distracting. Soft waves the same light brown as Grace’s fell to his shoulders in an unruly but attractive manner. He was clad in a ruffled shirt and a waistcoat, each of different patterns that still seemed to complement each other. His long legs were strapped in dark blue leather and ended in well worn boots. You hadn’t spent this much time focusing on one person’s emotions purposefully in a long time so the active seeking left you a little breathless.

Letting out a short nod that you were done, you began to speak. “Protectiveness. Fear. A touch of anger, but it has lessened. Thank you for that, anger takes a lot out of me. Curiosity. Guilt. Longing. Love. Heartbreak. Shame—“

“Okay, I get the point,” he interrupted you with shades of embarrassment returning. “That does feel invasive, but I did ask after all.”

“I’m sorry,” you still felt compelled to say.

He rocked back onto his heels, clasping hands behind his back. There was more of an openness from him now. “That does sound exhausting. Dealing with all that. Have you had it your whole life?”

Surprised at the question, you paused but then chose to open up unexpectedly. “I think so. My mother picked up on it in my childhood, noticing that I would cry whenever one of my siblings were hurt or how I would cower even before my father began to yell about something that was broken. She told me to fight it, but never sought anyone’s help. No one wants a ‘special’ child. So I learned to deal with it on my own,” you bit your lip, feeling vulnerable.

Pity. Sadness. Anger, but not directed at you this time.

His voice had softened when he spoke next, compelling you to lean forward. “What caused you to follow us from the market?”

The question you feared to answer, but he deserved the truth. “Because of what I felt from you as you left the old woman’s stall where Grace asked for the rabbit,” you whispered as he awaited your reply. “Desperation. Men do things they ordinarily wouldn’t when they’re desperate.”

A flash of shame hit you from the man, but he just nodded. “But still. What were you hoping to do?”

Cheeks warming, you shrugged at first. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want you to do something you might regret.”

Another short silence as he glanced back toward his home. “Do you know what I used to do for the Queen? What she’s asked of me today?”

Quickly shaking your head, you replied. “No. And I won’t ask. I just have to tell you before it’s too late, you don’t have to. I know you’ve decided to go and it’s wrong for me to say, but I hope that you’ll stay. Grace adores you and she loves you so much. She only needs you, not stuffed rabbits or trinkets. Whatever it is that the Queen has offered, you don’t need it. Whatever she has asked, she will betray you. I have felt the cold blackness of her heart and no good can come from making a deal with her. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I needed to share that with you. Now I can go and you never need to see me again,” you exhaled, relieved and also saddened that this was goodbye.

Shock struck you then followed by a question. “How did you know that I would say yes?”

You cleared your throat, feeling overwhelmed and suddenly tired. “Because you miss her already. Grace.”

You expected an agreement that you should leave from him, but what you didn’t expect was a wave of gratitude. Looking up in surprise, you saw tears shining in his bright blue eyes, leaving you speechless. He sniffled, brushing a thumb under his eye before he cleared his throat.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you answered quietly.

“Y/N. I’m Jefferson and you’ve already met Grace,” he said, allowing a small smile to pull at his lips.

“Jefferson,” you breathed out, relieved to have a name to fit and that he wasn’t upset about your unbidden warning. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” he let out a grin, then stretching it to a grimace. “After the part where I yelled at you.”

A chuckle escaped you unexpectedly and you were blessed with a toothy grin from him. He had a crooked smile, which somehow you found even more endearing.

“That’s okay. I don’t blame you at all,” you admitted, feeling lighter than you had in days. There was a fluttering in your heart and you couldn’t even say for sure that it was solely your own.

“So, um…” Jefferson began, but was interrupted by a loud shout from his child.

“Papa, can Y/N stay for a tea party?” you heard her yell from the cottage doorway. “Please? We never have visitors.”

You heard the pouting in her request and Jefferson turned your way, knowing that he would deny her nothing if he had the power to grant it.

“The lady of the house has requested your presence,” he teased, then turning serious. “And honestly, I’d love for you to accept, if you can.”

Chewing on your lip, you knew that all you were expecting upon returning home was a sharp reprimand from your mother for forgetting the eggs. Might as well make the lecture worth it.

“I would be honored,” you exhaled, then following Jefferson toward the humble cottage and through the front door.

__________________

Grace and Jefferson waved as you left for home that afternoon, having spent an enjoyable few hours in their cozy cottage drinking real and imaginary tea with stuffed animals as guests. You found a sense of calm in their home that in the the past you had only found in solitude. Dreading what you knew you’d find at home, you wandered slowly back to the hollow tree where your basket was hidden and made a wide circle around town through the forest to avoid as many people as possible.

You ached to have a home of your own some day that was so full of love and warmth. Thinking back, you couldn’t help but smile at how easily Jefferson offered his own easy grins the longer you stayed. The cottage was strewn about with teacups and bits of fabric with pincushions nearby. A fire crackled merrily nearby. You caught a flicker of embarrassment from him as you stepped inside the door, fearing that his humble home might not be much to look at. Offering a grin, you gazed about the room and complimented him on the home only to be rewarded another crooked smile and heart thump.

Arriving home was a stark smack of reality, the chaos and annoyance creeping in the closer you got. As you feared, there was yelling and words of disappointment and while the sharp barbs struck as they usually did, you didn’t feel them quite as deeply. Instead you tried to hold onto the feeling of a warm, comfortable cottage in the woods and the way you felt with the two who resided there.

The next week, you made your same dreaded walk to the market with an empty basket in hand. Several days spent at home with your mother and her sour temper had dulled the shiny warmth you had felt on that day in the woods. Determined to stay on task and hopefully lighten the mood at home, you bought the bread and eggs before you tried to bargain with the butcher, having brought some herbs your mother grew in trade. You did your best not to cower under his inevitable cloud of annoyance and were finally successful after a grueling few minutes. With one last item checked off your list, you turned in the direction of home when you felt a familiar spark of affection and happiness approaching.

Turning toward the prompting, you spotted Grace whose face lit up before she headed your way, then throwing her arms around your waist.

“Y/N! I knew she was going to be here, Papa, I told you,” Grace exclaimed joyfully.

Her father stepped forward then, catching your eye. “And you were right, my little one.”

Jefferson offered a smile as a caress of vulnerability touched your skin. Thankfully, it was followed by relief and joy. “Hello, Jefferson. It’s nice to see you again,” you greeted, hoping to find that calm you had been craving since your last meeting. “And you too, Grace! Who do we have here?”

You had gestured toward the stuffed rabbit that the young girl had in her clutches. “Isn’t he wonderful? Papa made him for me and I love him,” Grace proudly presented the rabbit for your inspection.

The stuffed animal was sewn using different fabrics and mismatched button eyes but Grace held it in such high esteem that one might think it was made of the finest silk and lace. Jefferson’s familiar shame touched you lightly like a bruise, but he swept it away then, lost in the joy his daughter found in his creation despite its misgivings.

“Anything for my little girl,” he replied proudly.

Holding Jefferson’s gaze a short moment, you then turned to Grace in reply. “Well, your father is very talented. A girl should only hope for a companion like him. Does he have a name?”

“Mr. Rabbit.”

“Very fitting. He’ll make a wonderful addition to your tea party,” you said with a grin.

“Can you join us again today, Y/N? Please?” Grace pleaded, then looking to her father for further urging.

He smiled bashfully and then echoed his daughter’s sentiments. “Of course, you’re welcome anytime.”

Heart bursting at the invitation, you wanted to accept but responsibility set in. “I’d love to, but…I should get all of this back to my mother before it spoils,” you replied with regret.

The disappointment radiating from both Jefferson and Grace almost overtook your own as their smiles fell.

“But…perhaps tomorrow?” you offered, hoping that with future planning you could then visit.

“Of course!” Jefferson replied, that crooked smile setting your heart aflutter.

“Yay!” Grace jumped in place, hugging you once again as happiness filled you times three.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” you grinned, returning the girl’s hug before stepping away and also trying to hold the man’s gaze as long as possible as he waved goodbye.

______________

Nerves kept you from sleeping most of the night, which was odd since you had visited the snug cottage the week before. Perhaps it was the intention of your visit rather than the previous rollercoaster of emotions when you followed them home previously. You made up some excuse to your mother for your absence that afternoon and once dressed in your least shabby skirt and blouse, you draped a shawl around your shoulders and headed into the forest.

As the cottage came into view, your heart quickened, as did your steps. Arriving at the door, you raised a hand and hesitated only a moment before making a fist and knocking. The door swung open seconds later, revealing the handsome Jefferson with a bright smile on display.

“Y/N. I’m so glad you’ve come,” he beamed, then offering a hand for you to step inside.

“Thank you for the invitation,” you said, accepting his hand but as your fingertips grazed his palm you felt a burst of heat flow through you, as if standing in front of a fire after being cold much too long. He must have felt it as well, his eyes wide when then met yours.

“Wow, that was…” he began, but in that moment his daughter rushed to your side.

“Y/N, you came! Come, sit,” Grace all but demanded, taking your other hand as you slipped from Jefferson’s grasp.

As per Grace’s instructions, you took a seat at the small table while she place a teacup and saucer before you. Following Jefferson’s gaze as he walked around the cottage toward the fire he seemed to be recovering from the touch just as you were.

“…and here is some tea for you, too, Mr. Rabbit. Would you like some cream and sugar, Y/N?” Grace asked as you cleared your head and turned her way.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’d love some, thank you,” you replied, still feeling that warmth in your fingers.

The afternoon was pleasant, spent playing tea party with Grace and also following Jefferson with your eyes as he prepared something over the fire. He bent down at times, allowing you to appreciate the pleasing fit of his leather trousers. He didn’t participate in the tea party but added comments on occasion or asked you questions, the conversation making you both smile.

Some while later, Jefferson declared that it was time for a proper supper as he dished some sort of soup out of the pot and into three bowls. You tried to refuse, fearing overstepping your welcome but he insisted. He asked Grace to clear the table of the tea set and set the bowls down before you. The soup was a simple broth with mushrooms and herbs apparently they had picked themselves. You ate it gratefully and it was delicious, warming you from the inside along with the pleasant company. Honestly, you had never experienced a joy like this in someone’s home. You almost feared the feeling, knowing that it was temporary.

Once supper was nearly finished, there was a knock on the door. Jefferson stood quickly, a feeling of secondhand dread brushing over you. He peeked outside and then opened the door wider.

“Grace, your neighbor friend would like for you to come out and play,” he said with a smile, revealing a young boy about Grace’s age.

“Can I, Papa?” she begged with doe eyes.

Her father huffed out a sigh, seemingly deciding. “Alright, you can go.”

A squeal was heard as Grace rushed from the table for her cloak. Her father helped her fasten it and pulled the hood up to cover her head.

Jefferson stopped her before stepping outside. “Stay within sight of home and you must return before dark, you understand?” he warned her, cupping her chin in his hand.

“Yes, papa,” she agreed, then turning to you. “Thank you for coming and playing with me, Y/N. Will you come again?” Grace asked, rushing over for yet another hug. It was becoming expected now and surprisingly you didn’t mind in the slightest.

“I’d love to. Thank you for the tea party,” you said with a smile, then watching as the girl ran off with her friend.

Jefferson stayed at the door a moment longer, waving at someone in the distance who you assumed to be the neighbors. Afterward, he closed the door and turned to you with an uncertain smile and a flutter of nervousness.

Filling the silence, you began to stand from the table. “Perhaps I should go…”

“Oh, no! Please don’t, I…” he began, then recognizing the urgency and near panic he felt. “I mean…if you can stay, I’d love you to. Grace is wonderful and more grown up every day but sometimes I do miss adult conversation,” he said bashfully. “Unless I’ve already taken too much of your time…”

“No, not at all,” you assured him, returning to your seat. “‘Good adult conversation is a rarity for me as well,” you admitted with a grin.

He smiled brightly and then began to clear the dishes off the table. You offered to help but he waved the idea away, as you were a guest.

Casting a gaze around the cottage, you took in the details more with curiosity building. There were nicknacks on every surface, dried flowers in a basket, and what looked like dyed yarn hanging from the eaves. Attempting at so-called adult conversation, you decided to indulge your curiosity.

“What is it that you do? You’re a craftsman of some sort?” you asked, turning your body on the bench to face him.

Jefferson let out a weary sigh as he leaned against the workbench. “I used to be. I still dabble at times, but…it hasn’t always ended well,” he said vaguely and you felt a spike of sorrow find you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried, I—“

“No, no, it’s fine, I promise, I just…” Jefferson stepped forward as he trailed off, then changing direction and moving items in a corner as if in search of something.

Trying again, you changed the subject. “Grace is a wonderful girl. She looks so much like you,” you said but couldn’t stop yourself from adding one last thought. “Her eyes, though…much darker than yours.”

Jefferson finally crossed the room with a large, oddly shaped case in hand. “She has her mother’s eyes,” he spoke sadly as the grief soaked into your skin.

“Oh,” you could only say, knowing without specifics that she was a difficult subject.

He fiddled with the buckle on the case, avoiding your gaze. “We lost her mother and my wife in a terrible accident years ago…” he trailed off, the sadness filling you both.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, instinctively placing your hand on his against the table and the same heat sparked between you. “Oh! Forgive me, I didn’t mean…”

But when you tried to remove your hand, he captured it in his, holding you in place. “Don’t apologize. I don’t know what this…this touch is, but I’m finding it enjoyable,” he admitted, caressing your fingertips with his as a smile touched his lips.

“Really?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded, then intertwining your joined fingers. “It’s been much too long since…”

Words failed him but you caught his meaning as you felt a different sort of heat filled you, finding the same flickers of desire within your own self. Regretfully removing his hand, Jefferson then changed the subject by opening the oddly shaped case and pulling out a well used, old top hat and placing it upside down on the table.

“This…is what I used to do,” he said, feeling wary and hesitant.

“You were…a hat maker?” you guessed, uncertain.

Jefferson let out a smile that scrunched his nose adorably. “Well…yes and no. I have made many hats in the past but this one…it’s special. You bravely told me of your ability so I thought I would share mine. This hat contains magic and when used by me, I am able to open portals to other worlds where I can travel to.”

Mouth open in awe, you blinked a few times. “Wait…other worlds?”

“Yes,” he said excitedly. “There are more worlds than just our own. More than I could count. Some with magic, some without and the veil between them is surprisingly thin. I discovered the ability by accident one day and began to use it more often. Until…I grew too prideful and when Grace was young something went wrong as I traveled through portals with her mother and…”

You felt the guilt and sorrow fill you as a tear fell from his eye. With intention this time, you place a hand on his and shared in his pain, hoping to lessen it some. Jefferson was quiet a few moments before he sniffled, then regaining his composure. Enjoying the touch of your hand, he reveled in the faint flicker of flames that followed as he trialed his fingertips across your palm and up to your wrist. You found yourself enchanted, nearly holding your breath in fear of the moment when the touch might end.

“Have you ever controlled the emotions of others?” he asked out of the blue.

Shocked, your mouth gaped open before you tried to respond. “I…no, I couldn’t…I mean, I’ve never tried but I wouldn’t want to. I don’t think it works that way nor would I attempt to invade someone’s person like that. Why do you ask?”

Jefferson quirked a smile, then looking up from your joined hands. “I don’t know. I just feel more calm around you than I have in some time. Happier. Is that strange to admit?”

Smiling, you shook your head. “No. I feel happier, too. Your home contains more joy and warmth and happiness than I think I’ve found anywhere else.”

His crooked smile that was becoming your favorite sight made an appearance as he held your gaze, an intimacy growing between you. As other feelings began to brew and grow with your shared contact, you felt a warmth in your cheeks before you could look away and reluctantly reclaim your hand. It felt cold and empty now without his touch.

“I really should go,” you spoke softly as if you hated to utter the words. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand,” he conceded, placing the top hat back in its case and standing from the table to put it away. “Could I walk you to the edge of the forest?” he offered, returning to your side as you stood.

“It’s so kind of you to offer, but I’m sure you’d like to be close by for Grace. And you must have other things to do.”

“Nothing too pressing, but perhaps you have a point with Grace away with her friend,” he admitted, sorrow pressing under your ribs as well. “Can you visit again soon? Tomorrow?”

The urgency and hope in his voice made you smile, almost causing you to nod in agreement before you had a chance to consider. “Okay.”

_________________

From that time on, you spent as much time with the widowed father and his young daughter as time and responsibilities would allow. A few afternoons a week and the occasional chance meeting at the market evolved into later visits and conversations between you and Jefferson stretching into the night long after Grace was a sleep.

Pressed into his side one night on a makeshift cushion on the floor beside the fireplace, you found yourself happier and more content than you had ever experienced. However, the tangled, shared feelings inside you sometimes were difficult to unweave, leaving you wary.

Did his question from weeks ago have merit? Were you forcing your feeling onto him? Was what you were feeling from Jefferson genuine? As the shadows from the flickering flames dance across his handsome face, unexpected worry filled you. Could it all be a ruse? The thought squeezed your heart like a vice, making it difficult to breathe. Jefferson seemed to be aware of a shift in you as he turned your way, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“You’re quiet this evening, my dear. Something wrong?” he inquired, a pulse of concern reaching you.

You shook your head at first, but then let out a sigh. “I just wonder…what if it’s true what you asked? What if I’m able to force my feeling upon others and I’m just as bad as Regina, playing with the lives of others? What if I’m projecting my feeling onto you and none of this is real? I could never live with myself if—“

But you never had a chance to finish, since your lips were now captured by Jefferson’s, an uncontrollable heat of desire consuming you both. If a simple touch of the hand were tiny flames, then this kiss was an inferno. Jefferson’s hands framed your face affectionately as your fingers tangled in his light brown strands. Tongue pressing against your lips, you opened wide and breathed him in as if you’d been drowning all your life and now received your first taste of oxygen.

Chest pressed up against your own, Jefferson finally pulled away an inch for air. Eyes darkened in desire, he held your gaze and stretched that crooked smile across his face in unending joy that filled you to the brim. His forehead touched yours as you smiled so hard it almost hurt.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed out with utter certainty, causing your heart to flop in your chest. “I do. I love you more than I can say. You’re the most kind, sweet, selfless, beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I’m sorry that I made you doubt yourself. I know you would never hurt anyone. It only hurts when we have to say goodbye,” he said, voice cracking at that last sorrowful admission.

“You…love me?” you spoke in disbelief, hardly able to comprehend such a feeling as having your love reciprocated. “I love you, too, Jefferson.”

At those words he captured your lips once more, lost in the feeling of his caresses against your mouth.

Finally breaking apart he blurted, “Will you be my wife, Y/N? I don’t have much to give but it’s yours if you’ll have me. Grace adores you and I never thought I would ever feel this way again. I love you so much, I can’t bear to say goodbye anymore. Will you—“

“Yes,” you answered tearfully, having the words finally make sense in your mind. “Yes, I want to marry you.”

Happy tears roll down his cheeks as you shared a smile and a few more kisses. You spoke late into the night about future plans until you fell asleep in his arms on a nest of mismatched pillows.

Grace discovered you in the morning, surprised. “Y/N! You’re still here!” she said with childlike glee. Her hair was in braids, fastened the night before by your hands.

“Oh, um…” her father started to explain your presence with sleep still clouding his mind.

“Yes, I’m still here,” you finally said with a smile. “Not quite planned, but a happy accident.”

Jefferson echoed your sentiment, pulling you into his arms. It was then that he broke the news of your engagement to his daughter and she was over the moon. A celebratory breakfast was made and Jefferson tried to make you stay as long as possible, but having not come home the night before, you knew your mother would be worried.

Not long after, you pressed one last kiss to his lips and stepped out the door for home. He watched as you made your way into the forest, headed toward the village. You looked back every few steps, a smile reaching your face to see Jefferson still standing there with joy radiating your way. If this was love, then you wanted it always. You felt sure that there couldn’t be anymore room in your heart, as he and Grace had taken root in it.

Just before the cottage was out of view, you were suddenly struck by a solid cloak of fear and confusion from all sides. The intensity of it nearly caused you to collapse, instead bracing yourself against a tree with a hand. Searching for the source, you looked around and within seconds you saw it. Billowing through the trees was a dark, purple fog towering over everything and it was headed your way. You heard Jefferson cry out behind you, causing you to turn.

“Y/N! Run!!”

Picking up your skirts, you ran as fast as you could toward his cottage, seeking shelter but the fog was close behind you. Jefferson selflessly ran toward you, hoping to pull you to safety.

“Jefferson!” you cried out in desperation, reaching for him.

He was nearly upon you as fear clawed up your throat. But it was too late.

“No! Y/N!”

And then there was nothing.

______________

Part Two>>>

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So??? What do you think of my first attempt at writing Jefferson?? It’s been so much fun, recreating the OUAT world and re-watching the show for research. He really is the most adorable character. How did you like her Empath abilities? It would definitely be exhausting but interesting as well. Clearly, I’ve changed the timeline for Jefferson and his choice to say no to the Queen allows a different life for him and Grace. What do you think will happen once the Queen’s curse hits? You get to find out on Thursday!! I’m so excited!! Please let me know your thoughts! I’ve been nervous about this new endeavor and any feedback is encouraged and appreciated. I love you all.

Tag list is still open!!

Jefferson tag list:

@learisa @skellingtonbatz @melanie451 @shadowhunter7 @bubblyanarocks3 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @acunningstargazer @honey-bee-holly @missinstantgratification @abovethesmokestacks @joannie95 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @csigeoblue @verygraphicink @beccaanne814 @capcevans81 @yallneedtrek @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @buckyywiththegoodhair @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @catsoftheapocalypse @louisianaspell @kingcarterprince @imaginingbucky @hollow-r-us @tardis-is-mine @averyrogers83 @yannii04

#jefferson x reader #jefferson ouat #reader x jefferson #the mad hatter #mad hatter x reader #once upon a time #enhanced!reader #sebastian stan #seb character #anika writes #aoyh fics

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spooky-mister · 4 years

Text

Intervention - Kevin x Ian

Howdy howdy.

H e y - as well as making bad art, I also write the bad writes.

Aka, I wrote a thing.

This is just a personal canon divergence of what I think would have happened if Kevin had intervened with Ian’s death at the end of the movie.

Apologies if I write them out of character, some of their interactions are based off personal interpretation of the characters and I’ve also just never written any FD3 fan fiction before lmao.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

Intervention

Fandom: Final Destination 3

Paring: Kevin Fischer x Ian McKinley

Word Count: 2,582

Plot: Canon divergence. An imagined scenario where Kevin intervenes with Ian’s death and the resulting aftermath.

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

"It's you, Wendy! You're dead!"

Time seemed to sedate to a sticky halt as Kevin registered what was happening. The fresh, uneasy swaying of the McKinley cherry picker. The sudden yet deliberate silence of the fireworks behind. The same realisation edging onto Ian's face at the mechanic strain creaking behind him. Death had skipped Wendy. Ian was going to die.

Maybe he deserved it. The thought sickened him. Ian was just a kid like the rest of them - barely 18. He shouldn't wish death on a kid. A kid who had just lost his girlfriend. Just like him. Shit, Ian was just as scared as the rest of them. He liked to forget that Ian was, in fact, human.

Well, this was it. He was going to die for Ian fucking McKinley.

He felt clumps of grass and mud kick out from under his shoes as he ran, screams from Wendy and Julie falling deaf on his ears as he propelled himself towards Ian. He grasped forward, hands catching on the arms of Ian's red sweater as he pushed him down with his full body weight. He fell down on top of the smaller teen, head hitting hard against Ian's. The momentary sting felt inconsequential as the arm of the cherry picker embedded itself deep into the soft ground inches from their legs.

Kevin's shocked adrenaline didn't take long to morph into anger.

"What the fuck, McKinley!?" Kevin yelled, propping himself up to stare down at Ian's face. He was barely looking at him, blinded in frustration as he moved to try and get up. His head rang softly at the impact of their fall. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to get us killed? You said you believed us now - are you psychotic or just a moron? You-"

He cut himself off as a noise broke through his rage. In all four of his years at McKinley High School, Kevin had never seen Ian McKinley cry. He didn't think he was capable. But here he was, burying his face into the top of his hoodie and biting back his lips to hold in sobs. Any remnants of anger died on arrival as Kevin felt himself climbing up off of Ian and onto the grass beside him. He reached a hand to Ian but Ian slapped it away, sniffing as he slowly raised to a hunched sitting position.

"Hey," Kevin soothed as soon as he regained his voice. His malice had drained completely, focus switching onto calming Ian. He watched as Ian furiously scrubbed the end of his sleeve at his tears, finding more success in smearing his eyeliner across his skin than he did drying his eyes. "Just... Take a breath. Okay, man? You're good."

Kevin could see Ian choking back what could have been a maelstrom of bitter insults and mockery but Ian couldn't seem to find his voice, resolving to shove Kevin further away instead. Kevin caught his balance, resting one hand in the grass as he turned his attention to their surroundings. He noticed two security personnel and one medic from the first aid tent making their way through the crowd towards them and sighed in quiet relief. Maybe they could talk sense into Ian - calm him down at least. He got to his feet slowly, pain from where the horse had previously kicked him sparking in his torso as he waved them over before glancing back down to Ian curled up on the grass. He looked so small. Almost fragile. Guilt tore and clawed at Kevin from his gut to his throat. He knew the pain he saw reflected in Ian's face. He'd been there too.

Before he could say another word to Ian - any of the words he wished he had heard after losing Carrie - security shouldered their way past him to crouch beside Ian. Kevin watched as they flooded Ian with questions, shining lights into his unresponsive eyes and trying to force him to his feet. He wanted to shout for them to give Ian some space but he couldn't bring himself to say anything, glancing back at the feeling of Wendy's hand tentative on his shoulder. He could talk to Ian later. Right now, his chest and abdomen throbbed and his head was fuzzy with adrenaline. He relented, allowing the girls to lead him towards the first aid tent with one last look back.

-----------------------------------------------

Kevin had been hunched over in the first aid tent for what felt like hours when security finally led Ian in through the pegged-back curtains.

Wendy had gone with Julie in an ambulance en route to the hospital to take her to the accident and emergency clinic - something about an underlying heart condition which had sounded way too intense for Kevin to question. He didn't mind being by himself too much. The medics were nice enough, music played out of a small, beaten stereo and the pack of ice they had given him felt good against his tender bruising. Still, the illusion that things had calmed to normality was torn from Kevin when the tear-stained, pallid face of Ian McKinley was brought in front of him. An official McKinley police officer had joined the Tricentennial security team but they barely glanced in Kevin's direction. Perhaps he would be questioned once security was dealt with.

As soon as a member of security had settled Ian down into one of the fold-out plastic chairs, the officer invited the personnel to talk outside - leaving the boys alone. Kevin trained his eyes on the ground before letting them flicker up to scan Ian's face. The kid looked exhausted. He sighed quietly before deciding to speak.

"How are you feeling?" It was as good of a place to start as any other. The question hung in the dead air between them, Kevin receiving little more than an uncomfortable twitch in response. He decided to try again. "...Look, you can talk to me. Got that? We're all going through this, McKinley. It's no excuse to go crazy on us."

"What, we're all gonna sit around in some kind of group therapy?" Ian mumbled, still avoiding eye contact. His voice was gravelly and hoarse from the strain of his previous yelling and his fresh tears. "Hold hands and talk about our feelings? Sounds fucking peachy."

Kevin narrowed his eyes at Ian's comment, doing his best to keep his cool. Ian had always been difficult to talk to. Perhaps that was why they stopped in the first place. He took a deep breath before speaking again, keeping his voice as non-threatening as possible. "I lost my girlfriend too." He noticed as Ian flinched slightly at the comment. "Carrie, remember? I..." He faltered, trailing off. "...So I know how you feel."

Ian's gaze finally settled on Kevin, his dark eyes set cold and impenetrable. "Carrie died," He acknowledged, keeping his voice low. "And we're all very sorry about that, but I don't need the wise words of Kevin Fischer to make me feel better. The last thing I want right now to to get patronised by some dumb jock."

Kevin bristled at the childish insult but did his best to not let it show. Ian was hurt and he had to sympathise with that if they were going to get anywhere. "I know more than you think," Kevin reasoned, chipping back the rising edge in his voice. "You might be surprised."

"You used to be smart," Ian reasoned, leaning back on his plastic chair and letting his eyes scan over Kevin's face and body with a sniff. "Back when you'd bother to talk to me once in a while, but now? You're a shadow of that. You're just like the rest of them - a high school stereotype."

Kevin held back the urge to roll his eyes at the label, expression hardening the more Ian tested his patience. "I stopped talking to you because of, well, this." He motioned a hand towards Ian, gesturing at his entire body vaguely. He noticed Ian raise an eyebrow and continued, repressing the venom in his voice. "You want a high school stereotype, McKinley? Look in the mirror. All this holier-than-thou bullshit and you wonder why you never made more than one friend?" Kevin let the words hang in the air for a moment before looking down and adding a quiet "I'm sorry."

Ian scrolled through an array of loaded comebacks in his head before sighing and closing his eyes. This wasn't going to make him feel better. "You could have died back there," He muttered, opting to change the subject. "You could have just let it crush me if you hate me so much."

"I don't hate you," Kevin correctly gently, looking back to Ian with sad eyes. "I know you're hurting. We've all lost people and I didn't want to lose anyone else -" He managed a small ghost of a smile as he spoke. "- even if it is you." Kevin's smile grew when Ian released a quiet snort of a laugh, the goth's pale lips twitching slightly. Smiling was a good look for Ian. Not the condescending, malicious smirk he usually wore, but a real and comfortable smile.

Kevin leaned forward as best as he could and patted a hand firmly on Ian's shoulder. Ian tensed, his smile falling again as he looked over Kevin's warm features. A true American boy next door - no wonder the girls all wanted him. He faltered before speaking again, quieter this time. "So what do we do now?"

"Now," Kevin started, pulling his hand back. "Assuming that Death just skipped you, it'll be going after Julie again. So, we're safe for now; I'm after Julie and you're after Wendy." Kevin's words failed him as he held back from saying what his gut urged him to. This was Ian McKinley. As if he was concerned enough to take it this far. Then again, Ian had proclaimed his new found belief in Death's design himself. Perhaps this wouldn't sound so ridiculous. "...Until then, I think it would be a good idea to stay close together. Or at least keep in touch."

Ian hesitated at the offer, turning it over in his mind. It seemed logical enough; keeping together would act as an efficient warning system as well as increasing probability of death prevention. Still, a part of his brain held back from agreeing so easily. This was Kevin he was talking to - the source of so much contempt and confusion set in his brain from years of secret, self-hated admiration. Could he live with that? Did he want to live with that? The idea made him nauseous but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Before he could figure his feelings out in their entirety, he found himself nodding slowly.

"Yeah. It is a good idea."

Any remaining doubts he had were stripped momentarily when Kevin smiled at his response. He could feel the involuntary swell of his own smile in return. Maybe they would be okay.

-----------------------------------------------

Five months after the McKinley Tricentennial, Ian McKinley and Kevin Fischer were exclusively dating. They had moved out of their family homes together at their first opportunity in favour of a shared apartment on the outskirts of McKinley. Ian had been eager to leave the town altogether but that kind of move would have cost them money they just didn't have yet, so the apartment was a steady compromise. With the pair of them taking independent gap years to work and get their affairs in order, leaving town was not the distant dream it had been at the start of their endeavour. Still, they had to keep money aside to treat themselves once in a while, and that's just what they were doing as they waited hand-in-hand for a subway train to take them to Oswald.

It had been Kevin's turn to decide this month's date night and he'd been adamant that they travelled to check out the game at the other end of the line. While he was far from a mainstream sports fan, Ian had given in to the request. If it really made Kevin that happy, Ian could sit through a couple of hours of yelling, chanting and uncomfortable seating. He'd get the power to choose next month.

Kevin turned to face Ian when the subway pulled up with a sharp screeching against its wheels. His mouth relaxed into an easy smile and he pressed a gentle kiss to Ian's temple as the doors of the train slid open with a soft ding. Ian returned the smile before glancing around and leading Kevin quickly onto the train. Ian's eyes impulsively glued onto the train map above them on entrance, tracking the red line across from McKinley to Oswald.

"It's the last stop," Kevin spoke as he stepped up beside Ian, squeezing his hand gently. He glanced across to his boyfriend and his smile morphed into a teasing smirk. "It's not exactly an easy stop to miss."

Ian rolled his eyes playfully as Kevin held back a breathy laugh at his own hilarious wit, Ian shoving the taller boy gently. "Yeah, okay. Let's find a seat before they're all taken. It's a pretty long ride." He took Kevin's arm around his shoulders as an agreement, leading Kevin towards the corner of the car where they hopefully wouldn't get disturbed by jacked-up, intoxicated sports fans. Kevin settled down first, drawing Ian beside him and slipping an arm around his boyfriend's waist. Ian turned his head toward Kevin to find Kevin already watching him, content. Ian's faint smile split into a more distinct grin as he leaned forward, catching Kevin's lips in his own. The further they got to Oswald, the more dangerous this would get. He'd make the most of this public affection while he could.

It was, in fact, a long ride towards Oswald, and the train packed people like sardines the closer they got. Sitting further apart now but still holding hands, Kevin and Ian didn't talk. They were sharing a pair of white, plastic earphones, the faint stereo sound of Nine Inch Nails combating a busker making his way down the car with an acoustic guitar. Ian didn't mind too much - there were worse situations to be in, even if Turn Around, Look At Me by The Vogues didn't mix seamlessly with The Hand That Feeds. Ian let his attention drift around the train's occupants while Kevin distracted himself by leafing through their game tickets and subway passes. They were only a couple of stops away from Oswald - Booth Street acting as their buffer - and then they could slip back into their normality again.

While pleasant ideas for the rest of their evening floated through Ian's head, his eyes caught sight of something - someone - who pulled his thoughts back to reality in a sickening mental whiplash.

Wendy Christensen.

The logic in him knew that he was being ridiculous. He was acting as if Wendy was nothing more than a bad omen. A superstition. Hell, shouldn't he be happy to see an old classmate no matter the circumstances? He should. But that just made the sickening dread settling into every part of his body all the more disconcerting. He found himself squeezing Kevin's hand even tighter as train 081 pulled up towards Booth Street, the fuzzy noise of the subway intercom cutting through his trepidation.

"This is Booth Street. Next stop is Oswald - end of the line. Next stop is the end of the line."

----- ----- ----- ----- -----

That’s it-

This was just poorly written, self-indulgent trash but I hope you managed to enjoy it lmao

also yes, when Kevin said “It’s the last stop”, I had to fight with everything I had not to write “It’s the final destination” because I’m a waste of brain cells

#Kevin fischer #ian mckinley #kevin x ian #ian x kevin #fd3 #final destination 3 #fanfiction #canon divergence #this is so bad #help #be nice to me #wendy christensen #julie christensen

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scorpiosanssexy · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu Characters doing their Duke of Edinburgh Expedition

I had a lovely chat with the wonderful @criedoverspiltmilkchan and we started to talk about what each haikyuu character would be like when doing dofe. Some of these headcanons were simply too good to leave in the messenger so here we are.

(to all of my non british followers here is a quick explanation as to what dofe is, lots of british kids did this during high school. - https://www.dofe.org/do/sections/ click on the expedition bit)

Group 1: Ushijima, Tendou, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kageyama, Hinata and Sugawara

Ushijima is in his elememt , he is the leader of the group, you cannot tell me that this farmer boi doesn’t know how to do basic camping task

He is the person in the group that will 100% leave his group oikawa behind because they are walking too slow

He also made sure that everyone in his group were up at 5am so that they could watch the sunrise together

Whilst Ushijima is loving life, Oikawa is straight up the opposite

This boy has never gone camping in his life

“I W A C H A N how do i put up this tent”

The only good thing he contributes to the group was that he snuck his old I-pod touch and started a sech on top of a hill

Which only consisted of spice girls whaaat

He is also the person in the group to catch hypothermia even though Iwaizumi told him to put more clothes on

He just wanted to look cute

Speaking of Iwaizumi, he is in charge of the route card.

He was the only person who actually knew where the escape points were

He is the best person to have in your group because he is really good at motivating everyone but also get’s shit done

He was basically Oikawa personal bodyguard

Kageyama and Hinata were just fighting with each other constantly

For example it was Hinata’s turn to navigate (this boi cannot read a map to save his life) and he basically got lost

Kageyama was raging B O K E H I N A T A B O K E

Suga had to break up the fight

These two idiots were also the people who kept everyone up all night because they were chatting at 2am in their tent.

They also raced each other up a hill (Hinata is winning 10 to 9)

Kageyama brought milk with him but i began to rot so his tent stinks of old milk

Hinata brought an inflatable volleyball and once they got to the campiste they all played with it until it was dark

Now Sugawara was made camp chef, why? because he is the best cook

However no one could have predicted that Suga would cook them the spicy thing none to man (it is canon that he loves spicy food)

Everyone is literally dying

Tendou is the only one who actually enjoyed the meal

the only reason tendou is doing dofe it because ushijima is doing it

He naruto runs up the hill , and he beats both kageyama and hinata in their race (tendou - 11 kagehina- 0)

He is constanly whistiling whilst he walks oikawa wants to kill him

Forgot his sleeping mat so hasn’t slept for pretty much the entire expedition

He is surviving on literally just redbull and suga’s cooking

As a group they were the second ones to reach the campsite

Group 2: Kuroo, Kenma, Bokuto, Akaashi, Yaku, Tsukishima and Lev

There is one and one reason only Kenma signed up for Dofe and that was because Kuroo said he would buy him the latest game animal crossing new horizons

For the majority of the time , he literally sulks because he wasn’t allowed his nintendo switch (which kuroo confiscated)

He wanted to be in a group with Hinata

Kuroo, on the other hand loves Dofe

Him , being the science nerd he is, is literally naming every single planet he see’s on the hike and gives little fun facts about them

He also encourages Tsukki and Kenma to do “group activities” (this literally consists of Bokuto and Lev rolling down a hill)

Yaku is the sole voice of reason for the group

His jobs is to make sure lev nekoma’s toddler doesn’t run off and get in trouble

He is the only one who can work the trangia, no one knows how he does it he just does

Again like Iwa chan, he is the only member of the group who actually knows the route card

Lev

just lev tbh

Lev 100% was that person in the group who ate the berries to “feel like one with nature”

He is also the dumb person to start dancing infront of a bull

he was then chased by it

yaku nearly died because of his short legs

Lev wasn’t allowed to navigate

Tbh he wasn’t allowed to do much

He was banned from being in charge of the route card because he left it in the field, when he was chased by the bull

Thank god Yaku knew the route

Bokuto was the head chefs at camp, why? because he binges Hell’s Kitchen relgiously ( 100% qualified)

They were going to cook a simple pasta dish, easy

Welp, 20 minutes later the pasta had burnt, the trangia melted at the bottom, dinner was shit

cue Bokuto’s emo mode

However, there was hope

Akaashi was the group member who managed to sneak his phone

He doesn’t really give a shit about nature, would rather be in a cafe in the city

He secretly orders a chinese several yards away from the campsite ( he knew that Bokuto was going to fuck up dinner)

He tells everyone that Bokuto did this, to make him look like the hero

So Group 2 tucked into Chinese , Oikawa could smell it and then started to complain to Iwa chan that other campers had nicer food

This was the highlight for Tsukishima

Tsukishima only signed up to Dofe because he thought Yamaguchi would do it

Yamaguchi missed the deadline lol

G O M E N T S U K K I

Tsukki for the majority of the hike put’s in his airpods so he doesn’t have to interact with anyone

Secretly listens to Kuroo’s plant talk

This is the group who is last to the campsite and then proceeds to tell everyone some wild story as to why they were back so late

Group 3: Sawamura, Asahi, Tanaka, Nishinoya and Ennoshita

Daichi is going to go grey

He is making sure Tanaka and Nishinoya do not get in trouble

He has to ,multiple times, shout at them both for talking way to loudly in the middle of the night, they were playing truth and dare

He is in charge of the emergancy phone, he played the snake game and it lost charge whaaat you didn’t hear that from me

He packs half of his bag with food ,he really is a hungry boi

Tanaka drew the short straw so had to carry all the tent pegs (you know the heavy stuff)

He made everyone do some really stupid shit, like roll down the hill

He accidently pushed Daichi down the hill, he has never been so scared in his life

Not gonna lie, the person most likely to get all their stuff wet would be this boy right here

Ennoshita had to share clothes with him because they were soaked

He (ennoshita) is in charge of the group project so he is basically making a mini documentry on their expedition

He filmed Daichi being pushed down the hill by Tanaka

He was forced by Noya to film him doing the rolling thunder in a middle of the field

Brings toliet paper for the group

Nishinoya is having a great time

Susprisely, he has really good camping skills (like he knows how to put up a tent, cook a meal etc.....)

Doesn’t stopped him from being a crack head tho

Has cartwheeled on Asahi multiply times

Proudly owns crocs and a spork

Asahi is such a big bby

This boi hates bugs with a passion

An example of this happen during their lunch break

Asahi was innocently eating his sandwich and then wasp appears

Never in their life had they heard the most high pitched scream in their life

Asahi is literally like bye bitch

It takes the group 20 minutes to coax Asahi to sit back dwon

Noya kills the wasp with his croc

Despite the horrible weather, Asahi hair is literally the most gorgeous thing ever. Like he looks good anything

Please go and give the lovely @criedoverspiltmilkchan a follow, they are a fellow haikyuu imagine and matchup blog.

If you have any other headcanons feel free to submit them in my ask box

Have a lovely rest of the day

Carla

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pollylynn · 4 years

Photo

Title: Gauntlet WC: 1500

Every Nikki Heat book has had its own miseries. The first time she sent him away. We're done. The second time he left her with a juvenile Now she’ll see band-aid slapped on his wounded heart and bruised ego. The third time. Roy. Her eyes slipping closed under that scorching blue sky. The excruciating shrillness of the monitor going flat line in the ambulance. Nothing can touch that agony—nothing—but the fourth time certainly gave it a run for its money. I remember every second. How am I even supposed to trust anything that you say?

But this year is different. There's no misery here at all. Hell, after living through last year’s misery—through estrangement, reunion, and her second solo near-death experience in less than a year—he had written like a fiend, right through the end of Frozen Heat and straight into Deadly Heat, deftly weaving serial killer into the fabric of the story where Nikki will finally, triumphantly, bring the people responsible for her mother’s murder to justice.

Of course he's procrastinated. Of course he has stalled and rested on his laurels. He’s seduced her over and over again, slipping his hand beneath her prim work blouses, the tall waist of her running tights, the slouchy irregular hem of any one of the t-shirts she's commandeered from his baskets full of clean laundry. He’s laid her out on the bed and parted her thighs and stepped between them as she leans back with her palms planted flat on his desk. He has whispered brags about his word count—about how far ahead of the game he is this year—and convinced her to idle away the hours with him.

Ultimately, of course, he's frittered away the jump he has on the book. So there's some misery now. There are nights away from her. There is sudden, absolute longing at 3 AM, and he can't call her. He can't head to her place and slip between the sheets, even though she does. She certainly does when she's working late, and there's occasional misery about the fact that it doesn't quite work both ways.

But it’s manufactured misery. All of it, really. It's him playing for sympathy and her playing along to such an extent that it surprises her as much as it surprises him.

It’s manufactured misery when the cover art shows up. Black Pawn has messengered it over, and no matter how long he's been at this—no matter how many zeros there are when the papers publish an estimate of his net worth—he puffs up like a proud, important little boy when something arrives by messenger.

It's a little after 7 AM when he sends the spandex-clad, helmet-wearing messenger on her way with a tip big enough to win him a genuine smile from someone who is obviously not a morning person. It’s 7:15 AM when he realizes he's in crisis. Magenta or green. The choice is impossible, and he's leaning toward rewriting the whole thing—serial killer out, New York–hating mutant lizard in. It’s a genuine crisis and it’s not too early to call her, so he does.

Her voice mail picks up immediately. It’s a crushing blow in the moment, so he eats cold pizza straight out of the fridge. He gives it ten minutes and calls again. Voice mail, and the crisis expands. It fills the whole loft and where is she? He calls again. He walks around the office, trying to sneak up on one cover, then the other, one cover, then the other.

He settles for Alexis and her crisis-management skills. It’s kind of a bust. She is not at all interested in his crisis, and there's some definite misery there. She wants to go. She is going and his dithering is silly. It’s utterly ineffectual, and now he really does have something he needs her for—Kate. He needs her level-headed, slightly snappish input, and he needs the way she'll put up with him.

She does put up with him. She’ll pinch him in the most unexpected places and tell him he’s being ridiculous. But she'll kick off her shoes and prop her legs on the coffee table, too. She'll pat her thigh and let him rest his head there. She’ll listen to him and press her hand over his heart when it thuds with waking nightmares about Paris.

She’d do all that if only she'd answer her phone.

********************

He is on the verge of throwing the wood-mounted cover art right through the glass wall of his office. This isn't misery—it's rage, and it is not his native tongue. He slams the square blocks, one after the other, on to his desk. It’s hard enough to mar the surface, forceful enough that wood will bear the scar, and native tongue or not, that feels about right.

His mother finds him as is her wont in these moments. She acts out the first few seconds of her scandalized routine before she catches up with the world as it is. She clutches her metaphorical pearls until she realizes this is serious, this is different, this is rage.

He tells all. He scorches the air as he recounts each lie, repeats each ice cold justification she’d tried to spin. He makes his unassailable case as the injured party, and his mother turns the world on its head.

She should be interviewing for that job, she says, and he wants to scream that he's not fucking saying otherwise. He’s not some Mad Men–style troglodyte trying to keep the little lady at home. He wants to scream, but this is his mother and she rolls on, ever forward.

This isn’t about me, he does manage to shout, and she turns that on its head, too: Are you sure?

And he is not. He listens to her recitation of the long road to this moment. He relives every misery along the way—his sins and hers. His pride and hers. His stupidity, cowardice, tragic lack of moxie in the moments that have really mattered. And hers.

His hand goes to his phone in his pocket. He feels sore and kicked around now when he thinks about how she didn't answer all this morning. How she lied right to his face when he asked. How she lied. He feels sore and kicked around, but the rage is gone.

He leaves his mother.

He sits behind his desk, stiff-spined and well and truly miserable. He navigates, mechanically, the interaction with Alexis. He writes the check. He pastes on a smile she doesn't buy and tells her to go have fun. She leaves him, unnerved, and he is sorry. He’s sorry.

He flips the cover art face up. He places the green at the far right edge of the desk, the magenta at the far left. He spends some quality time with the giant lizard that would happily chow down on New York and all its denizens, himself included. He spends a good long while on Team Giant Lizard.

But he'd ache for her even then. Chewed up and swallowed down, in the belly of a giant lizard, he'd ache for her, just as he had that first summer, all the while with Gina, after Roy and watching her die, every time—every minute—he had ached for her, and the misery here and now seems so much of his own making. Their own making, he knows, but his actions—his choices—are the only thing he can control.

He turns the giant green lizard face down. The gentle sound of wood meeting wood calls up something ultimately kind. It calls up her voice—strong as she could make it—and the pointed way she’d set the book on the table in front of him.

Kate. You can make it out to Kate.

There's courage, too. Every step of the way, all mixed up with anger and stubborn pride and sheer stupidity, there is courage between them. There is grace and forgiveness and monumental effort to work their way back to each other. There is the kind of love he has never had before.

The phone rings just then. Exactly just then, and he is decided. He answers with his own name, clipped to sharp edges by fear, by misery, by determination. She says they need to talk. He says they do.

"The swings,” he says and nothing more.

“The swings,” she echoes back, right away, and he can’t bear to hope it's an omen.

He can’t bear to hope at all, but he unearths the ring he has had for longer than he can admit, even to himself. He plucks it from its silk-and-velvet depths and slips it, naked, into his pocket. This is his path out of this misery. He can't bear to hope she’ll join him on it. He can't bear to hope at all.

But he is decided. A/N: Stupid cover art. Another absolutely not-canon thing that breaks my heart. Blegh. Super extra terrible. Hmmm.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 5 #Castle: Watershed #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Martha Rodgers #Alexis Castle #Fic #Fanfic #Fan Fiction #Fanfiction #Writing #Hmmm

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too-many-kpop-hubands · 4 years

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30 Day Fandom Challenge

Here we go again for my fandom challenge. You still with me? @domsberto I'd also like to nominate @jimonsprettyface

This next fandom is one that I have been a part of from the very beginning and it holds a special place in my heart. Hold on tight and for those who haven't seen it, spoilers ahead.

Day 2- Teen Wolf

(TV Show not Movie)

1) Favorite Character: Stiles Stilinski

Reason: I have a thing for adorable dorks apparently. 😂

Ok so I adore Stiles the most because he is the backbone and heartbeat of the group. Sure he's a spazz and a nerd but he also always finds a way to get the group out of sticky situations because of his intelligent and knack for looking at things from every angle (he truly is his father's son....it helps his Father is the Sheriff alot of the time). He is loyal to a fault and though he has a hard time trusting most newcomers, once you are in he will literally follow you to the ends of the earth. He is a hopeless romantic, as shown with how he is with Lydia and even Malia. He loves deeply and thought he tends to be a fuck up at times he always finds a way to make things right. He keeps the others in line and helps everyone that needs his help. As the only human of the group he takes his job very seriously and is damn good at keeping the group together even when he personally feels like falling apart. I adore him to no end.

2) Most Relatable Character: Liam Dunbar

Reason: Liam is an adorable, scared and confused little rage monster. Unlike the others on the show who had a few seasons to get used to the world of the supernatural, Liam was still new to the world and was often left scratching his head wondering what the hell was going on. I can relate to that because even in real life I don't know what the hell is going on most of the time. He is also the most relatable because unlike the others on the show, he actually acts his age for the most part and wasn't forced to grow up as fast as the others. Honestly, for a young Beta wolf he can be the most human of them all at times. He likes to have fun, he likes to hang out with his girlfriend and play lacrosse. He marches to the beat of his own drum, which I do most of the time. Another thing I can relate to is having a short temper. While my temper is not nearly as bad as Liam's (who as Intermittent Explosive Disorder) I still get how hard it is to calm down once that temper is triggered.

3) Most Underrated Character: Isaac Lahey

Reason: Besides Derek, Isaac probably had the most growth of all the characters on the show before his exit from the show. He had to shoulder alot of pain and loss in his life starting with his mom leaving and his brother dying, then suffering from years of abuse at the hands of his father. After being turned by Derek, he felt empowered to help not only himself but others as well and did all that he could to help people in need. He even found it in him to forgive his father for abusing him for so long, which takes strength all on it's own. He went from being a scared and abused little boy to being a badass who did everything he could to help people he cared about and those who were unable to defend themselves. I see you Isaac, I see you and I appreciate you.

4) Most Overrated Character: Derek Hale

Reason: Ok before I start this, let me just says that I love Derek Hale ok? He is all kinds of sexy and has some good qualities but of all the people on the show he is also the most overrated. Ok hear me out here before you come at me. Throughout the series Derek is hyped up as this big bad Alpha dude. Yes, he turned a bunch of teens into wolves and helped them, and Scott, learn the ropes but when it came down to a fight most of the time he either made things worse or just didn't show up when he was needed the most (example when they were fighting the Nogitsune, Dread Doctors, Ghost Riders, Alphas). Most of the time it was Scott and his pack that ended up saving the day. Sure Derek helped gather intel but as far as fighting goes, he didn't really do much for such a "Big Bad Alpha" who threatened to rip people's throats out with his teeth. Hell he didn't even kill the bitch that murdered his ENTIRE family, nor did he kill the Darach...instead he slept with her. Wow Derek, just wow. He ran most of the time, went MIA alot of the time only to make a dramatic entrance and knock a few people around when Scott already had things under control. I love Derek but.....some big bad Alpha he was.

5) Least Favorite Character(s): Tied Kate, Gerard, and Victoria Argent

Reason: First of all, Kate....She got away with murdering an entire family (minus Derek, Laura, Peter and Cora) and then manages to cheat death by turning into a freaky ass werejaguar when Peter ripped her throat out. How?!?!?! No matter how much chaos she starts she still ends up getting away. How is she not dead yet? Jesus! She was a manipulative person and honestly one of the most toxic on the show besides her shady ass who I will talk about next.

Gerard was a piece of work. He brainwashed Allison into trying to kill her friends, he praised Kate for killing the entire Hale family, he tortured and killed innocent supernaturals simply for existing and used Jackson in his kanima form to carry out his shady agenda. He was also a hypocrite. He hates supernaturals yet relied on Scott to help take away his pain when he was sick and dying only to turn around and train a new generation of Anti-Supernatural hunters to do his bidding. He was a piece of shit.

Victoria Argent was the Matriarch of the Argent family and even when her daughter (Allison) and husband (Chris) wanted to actually help the innocent supernaturals she did everything in her power to make sure they felt like shit for wanting to help. She freaking tortured and tried to kill Scott for no other reason than he was a werewolf that was screwing her daughter and then made herself out to be a victim when Derek came to save Scott and he bit her a few times after she attacked him. She refused to turn and killed herself instead of facing the consequences her actions lead to (her turning into the very thing she hated, a werewolf).

6) Favorite Canon Pairing: Stydia (Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin)

Reason: From the beginning when you first see Stiles and Lydia interact on screen you start to root for the spastic nerd to win the heart of the most popular girl in school. Stiles always saw the real Lydia that she hid behind her popular facade. He saw how smart she was, how much she actually cared for people despite pretending like she didn't. He had been in love with her since the 3rd grade and even when they dated other people, that love never died. The closer they got as friends the more you wanted them to just end up together. Several seasons later and we finally hear them confess their love for each other and finally FINALLY get together. Praise be to all things Holy! Stiles and Lydia manage to balance each other out and anchor each other. When Stiles has panic attacks, Lydia is there to help calm him down. When Lydia gets overwhelmed by her Banshee powers, Stiles is there to help ground her. Stiles saved Lydia more times than I can count but she saved him too on more than one occasion. Stiles and Lydia have a love that is beautiful and pure. I see them lasting forever and they should even now that the show has been over for a while now. They are beautiful and they are my OTP. I could go on forever but I will just leave it here.

7) Favorite Non-Canon Ship: Scisaac (Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey)

[Close Call Honorable Mention: Sterek (Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale)]

Reason: Ok first of all this was a close race between my boys Scisaac and my boys Sterek but when I look back at both pairings, I love the purity of Scott and Isaac versus the almost toxic pairing that is Sterek. (I adore Sterek but come on! Looking back now they were hella toxic!) Now for Scott and Isaac they had their moments. They lived together and Scott always managed to find a way to help bring Isaac back to reality when he had moments where he would lapse into PTSD style symptoms and nightmares. They always had each other's backs and they always gave each other looks that went beyond that of just friendship. Hell Isaac even agreed with hearts in his eyes that Scott was the "hot girl". I believe that if these two had of both cut Allison lose and crossed the boundary of friendship into a romantic relationship they would have been just as strong as Stydia. A pure and passionate kind of love born out of genuine care for one another.

8) Least Favorite Pairing: Stalia (Stiles Stilinski and Malia Tate)

Reason: First of all their first hook up was in a freaking insane asylum so that right there is not a good start for any lasting relationship. Throughout their relationship, Malia took Stiles for granted and then had the nerve to get jealous when he paid more attention to Lydia (who he had been in love with forever at that point). Malia had the mindset of a child and was immature most of the time. Don't get me wrong, Stiles could be immature at time too but she brought out the worst in him. I don't dislike Malia. I actually like her as a character but not as Stiles's girlfriend. Plus this biggest reason I dislike this ship? It took longer for Stydia to finally happen. Let's not forget how she practically walked all over him.

9) Favorite Part/Moment: Lydia tells Stiles she loves him too.

Reason: Stiles had been taken by the Ghost Riders and everyone forgot who he was but before he was taken he told Lydia "Remember I love you." But she never got the chance to say it back before he and her memories of him were ripped away. When he finally came back there was a touching scene where Lydia said "I never got to say it back." And the two of them shared their first real kiss (not counting the kiss she gave him to stop a panic attack in a previous season). This was one of those moments that was several years long overdue and for us Stydia fans, we rejoiced when they finally got their shit together and actually became a couple. Praise!

10) Least Favorite Part/Moment: Allison is killed by the Oni

Reason: Allison Argent was a character you could sometimes love and hate at the same time. When they battled the Nogitsune and she sacrificed herself to the Oni to save Isasc, I sobbed like a baby. It was a way for the writers to write off the actress's character but one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the entire series. It is my least favorite because Allison died. It was a beautiful farewell as she died in the arms of her first love (Scott) but I can't even think about it without sobbing.

Thank you for sticking with me. Until tomorrow! ❤

#fandom challenge

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korranguyen · 5 years

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Some thoughts on romance in TDP and ATLA: What Does Rayllum Get Right?

Okay, I know this post doesn’t do much service to this claim, but I don’t love the idea of directly comparing ships to one another. Every relationship is different in the context it takes place, and it’s just as unfair to directly compare any two relationships as it would be to compare two different couples in real life: every person, and by extension, every character, is unique in their own way. Not to mention I’m a bit hesitant to write this because TDP just found its footsteps away from ATLA with the new season, and I honestly fear plaguing the lovely positivity of the TDP fan base with old wounds from the ATLA ship wars.

BUT since there are already a lot of popular Kataang/Rayllum comparison posts floating around, I feel the need to share my two cents on the bit as someone who wholeheartedly enjoys the trajectory of Rayllum, but had my... reservations when it came to the canonized romance in ATLA.

Instead of dwelling on those reservations, though, I’m gonna focus on talking about and validating the parts of the ships we do like (meaning both Zutarians and Kataangers).

This essay, in a nutshell:

Two ships form an unlikely bond and find their peace in the midst of warring kingdoms fandoms. #amirite

What Rayllum Learns from Zutara

TBQH I surprised by how many embraced the Kataang/Rayllum parallels because the setup itself reminded me of Zutara— not Kataang. They share a similar origin story: Rayla threatens Callum in an attempt to pursue his little brother, just like how Zuko often pursued Katara to capture Aang. Their introductions are antagonistic, if not explicitly violent, but because the writers take the time to humanize both characters outside of these interactions, the audience understands that these conflicts happen because they’re driven by motivations from opposite sides of the war. Of course, when they are forced to become allies, it’s... not as smooth-sailing as you’d expect.

At its core, both Rayllum and Zutara are very cautious friendships. They don’t trust each other right away. It’s not perfect; they have their outbursts, reluctance to trust, and painful blows to their bond. But against all odds they eventually establish trust in each other. And because that trust isn’t just given, but needs earning, it takes its time dwelling on wounds necessary to transgress those lines and establishes extra depth in the meantime, making it well-earned and conducive to an understanding relationship. When they find their peace and friendship, it feels earned and respected on both sides, and both parties have a deeper understanding of each other than they could've had with a happy-go-lucky friendship.

Also, a side effect of the bitter work (sorry I had to lol) it took to to build that relationship, both Zutara and Rayllum have become especially in-tune with each other’s emotional cues. On the behalf of Zutara, there’s the moment when Katara comforts Zuko as he’s cowering in front of his uncle’s tent. She immediately recognizes that something’s wrong and approaches him about it:

Zuko opened up to Katara yet again about his insecurities and fears just like he did in Ba Sing Se. I love how easy it is for him. Zuko’s normally so guarded yet doesn’t mind being vulnerable with Katara. He’s so worried because he doesn’t see how Uncle Iroh can forgive him. It’s important that Katara’s the one encouraging him because she was also someone he betrayed that day. Someone who had faith in him to make the right choice, someone who changed for the better. She forgave him and she knows Iroh will too. That carries some weight with him.

-- Geektastic08

Because of how many more opportunities Rayllum than Zutara to show off their perceptiveness of each others’ emotions, I could name off a lot of similar moments-- but I’m going to go with when Rayla slices open the mummy on the Cursed Caldera. When she returns and anxiously gets to ushering people forward, Callum notices almost instantly that Rayla’s acting off and expresses his concern. And, of course, Rayla opens up that she did, indeed, see something “horrible”— immediately opening up to him on the fact she was afraid, almost instinctively overcoming her reluctance to show her fears and weaknesses as established from previous episodes when Callum is the one who asks about it.

Also, this:

"I know that face. It’s your dumb idea face.” =)

Another reason: balanced-out co-parenting is a thing (Ezran vs. the rest of the Gaang).

On a more grand-scheme note, their relationship actually also shares a lot of the same “thematic importance” as Zutara as a symbol of overcoming differences and bonding. As cheesy as this line low-key is (IMO), Harrow says:

“I ask you and your brother to reject history as a narrative of strength and instead have faith that it can be a narrative of love.”

Yeah, read by the human boy crossing foreign lands with a she-elf to return the Dragon Prince to his mother as a gesture of bonding elves and humans and ending the war between nations. Having faith that history can be rewritten as a narrative of love and compassion.

To top it off, Rayllum owns it when it comes to living up to the not-overtly-kissy romantic foreshadowing of Zutara.

This is an allusion to the established Moon symbolism from earlier in the episode. As painful as it was, finding out about the king winds up illuminating, and eventually fulfilling, the possibility of deeper relationship and understanding of trust they originally couldn't see (but was still there) when Callum crosses the barrier into the “light face” from the “dark, shadowed side”.

Also, this shipper’s haven scene:

Agh, yes.

What Rayllum learns from Kataang

Okay, so one of the bigger (and very understandable) issues with Zutara is that all of their development (aside from “Crossroads of Destiny”) happens very late in the last season. No matter how solid the moments we do get are, there simply isn’t enough time to fully wash away their damaged terms only a couple episodes prior, much less transgress necessary lines before a healthy relationship can occur. Whether or not their build-up does justice for their relationship arc as friends, by the end of ATLA, Zutara’s negative interactions still outnumber their positive ones by a sheer majority, so pushing that relationship into romance so soon comes with negative implications. (Which is where the Book 4 rumors seep in, but let’s not touch those today)(Anyway, even as a person who generally supports Zutara, I don’t advocate for that relationship to be “endgame”, or even as a part of canonized material because romance that soon after establishing that trust wouldn’t have conducive to a healthy relationship.)

On the other hand, Kataang gets a lot more credit in the time department. Because their friendship is established in such a positive light from the very first episode, Kataang has the benefit of faith from their countless endearing moments capturing a casual, comfortable friendship we can know and love, and then can grow nostalgic about over time. Even when their angrier moments play out, they usually fizzle out in the pool of happier memories they already have, so such instances are easily forgivable from the majority of the audience.

Now, despite initially being at odds with each other, Rayllum is established early enough to have the advantage of 5/6/7 seasons under its belt to build to that healthy relationship. Even in the less-immediate circumstances of their trust, the show still leaves plenty of time to fill with the necessary builds and prove their friendship through positive interactions. This is evidenced by the fact that by the end of Season 2, their negative interactions— even Rayla’s original position as Callum/Ezran’s killer— is water long down the bridge.

(Random tangent: To all who believe Zutara is an unforgivably abusive ship because of Katara’s and Zuko’s previous enemy relationship, let me pitch this to you: Rayla literally corners Callum and holds a blade in his face, about to kill him in the second episode yet Rayllum is very inarguably not abusive. The issue with Zutara isn’t that it’s inherently a sour relationship because they used to be enemies, it’s that there’s a dire lack of time to ease the ratio of interactions of Zuko hurting Katara to him helping her before the end of the show where starting that immediate relationship would have come with poor implications. In the case of Rayllum, Rayla actually gets a very extended chance to make that up in a larger span of time and exceeded those numbers two weeks ago long ago)

Thanks to all that screentime, maybe if our Season-2-Shipper-Scenes can be read as glimpses of a possible building crush early on like Kataang’s, that’ll stir up some of the heartstring garble later that it did with Kataang, too (for some, at least).

Rayllum’s interactions share the lovable silliness of Kataang. When it comes to picturing your ideal, sugarcane relationship, we will often find our soft spots in the couples who spend the most time smiling, laughing or being casually friendly with each other.

Also, here’s an interesting parallel: Katara was Aang’s primary support through his loss, just like Rayla was for Callum. Also, both Katara and Rayla struggled to hide the fact from their “romantic counterparts” at first, in fear of hurting newfound friendships with people they cared about, only to have this backfire later. However, I’d say it’s interesting to note that because Callum is almost 3 years older than Aang and thus arguably in a different phase of maturity (older childhood at 12 vs. teen at almost 15), the way they processed that realization took remarkably different forms between the two characters. Breaking the news to Callum meant surfacing more relationship-based questions about trust, meeting its resolution in a heart-to-heart conversation about honesty and hurting people you care about. On the other hand, because Aang is still, for most purposes, a child, that recognition on Aang’s part, as well as the honesty/lack of censorship on Katara’s part, doesn’t exist as much as an expectation in that relationship. Consequently, Aang’s grief process in “The Southern Air Temple” was wholly Aang-centric, coming to life in a display of rage and pain before he comes to accept his new position as the avatar and the last airbender in the arms of his new “family”. (I actually think the most obvious comparison to Aang here is Ezran, who became angry and ran away when he found out about his father’s death, then returned with a fuller understanding of the newfound individual responsibility he must face despite not being ready for as a growing kiddo. But that’s a discussion for another time; maybe I’ll write something on that later).

Of course, the aforementioned covert foreshadowing of the Zutara ship comes coupled (pun intended) with the overt romantic foreshadowing of the Kataang ship! Because what kid (or kid in the heart) doesn’t let out the giddy squeals over that.

Also, it’s the male and female lead. Everyone’s gotta love those characters! Bet you money all the 2010s children who watch TDP are gonna get hella attached to that stuff and rack up the tears on how well-elaborated those characters were and how perfect they were for each other through thick-lens nostalgia goggles when they grow up. That’s just how dat shit works.

TL;DR If Zutara was too “dark” or “intriguing”, or “bound to make six year olds cry” (as Ehasz himself supposedly said in a class at UC Berkeley; lol), Rayllum re-illustrates that arc with the cushiness of a clear, lovable path and the positive-interaction-to-death-threat ratio, audience faith, (love for small critters,) and longer friendship screentime of Kataang.

Rayllum shares all of the literary nuances of Zutara and the sweet lovability of Kataang. And then adds its own little sparks of healthiness.

It’s a ship built for everyone to fall in love with.

I honestly don’t care whether this winds up being a very strong friendship or a romantic relationship (though I’m inclined to believe from the narrative that it’s the latter), but no matter the direction the show takes, I love their relationship so much and have full faith it’ll be done right.

Let me know if I missed anything else! I know I might be missing the narrative importance and/or parallels others might see in Kataang because I’m a bit biased to Zutara as the poster of this multi-ship analysis (though I tried my best to counteract it for objectivity), so especially if you’re a Kataanger, let me know what you’ve noticed and I’ll be happy to add it in.

positive/non-warring reax only please :)

#kataang #zutara #rayllum #the dragon prince #tdp #writing/criticism

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bossladytae · 5 years

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Five Key HijiTae Moments

Gif Source (Permission granted to hyperlink gifs, so please like or reblog from the original post, thank you.)

I’ve been shipping Hijikata x Tae /土妙 since 2007, and as self-proclaimed captain of this ship, I’ve sailed without expecting a canon ending. Indeed, I expected nothing more beyond the Yagyuu arc, but Sorachi gave me even more moments to be thankful for - five of which are compiled in this post as a final send-off.

Before I begin, I wish to convey my gratitude to @arirna, who is the chief officer of the HijiTae ship, as well as the Tsukuyo to my Tae, our ladies whom we adore so much. I’ve much enjoyed all our numerous discussions on many topics. You make great gifs (thanks for granting my requests! And for allowing me to use and link them in this post because I couldn’t figure out how to embed just one gif from a single post, woe is me), and you’ve long been a staunch supporter of the ship. I will never be able to thank you enough, my friend!

Now then, to the Moments:

I’ve written a summarized analysis of HijiTae and why I like them as a ship before, along with brief mention of other viable Tae and Hijikata ships heavily implied in canon (Kondou, Kyuubei, Mitsuba), so I’m not going to get into them for this post, which is purely to celebrate each HijiTae moment, counting down to what I feel is the most important one.

(5) Episode 18, the “Underwear Thief”

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“Tear him apart.”

“Dismember him and stomp him into the ground.”

“Hey! Both of you are getting very scary!”

Hijikata and Okita are not present in the original manga story arc, but they are added to the anime (no doubt to appeal to audiences with their growing popularity at the time). This is the first instance that made me see the appeal of their potential relationship, as well as the potential friendship that can result from their rare interactions. Early on in the series, I had no particular ships in mind until I watched this episode. Hijikata and Tae start talking about the best ways to torture somebody, and they eventually get so out of hand with their discussion, complete with shoujo anime bubbles and all, that Shinpachi breaks them up because they are too terrifying together. And, indeed, they would be the most terrifying couple in the country.

(4) Character Poll Arc

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“As long as you are around, Shinsengumi, including Kondou-san, won’t be able to stand alone at the top.”

“So you intend to eliminate the woman who is the source of your boss’ scandalous behaviour? I would expect no less from the Demon Vice-Chief. You’re used to doing dirty work.”

Dashing the Fourth Wall to pieces, this arc addresses the original concepts behind some of the characters, particularly those that are based on real historical figures. When Tae rallies Kyuubei, Kagura, Tsukuyo, and Sacchan together to stand against the men, Hijikata and Katsura soon accost them – one to Tae and the other to Kyuubei, and both line-ups make the best sense for each character. Katsura and Kyuubei bicker over their shared characteristics, and they also know each other better since Katsura was once invited to Kyuubei’s birthday party. Tae also knows Katsura, but she’s very familiar to the Shinsengumi for obvious reasons. Hijikata and Tae facing off allows Kondou to seamlessly return to the scene, since he has closer ties to Hijikata and Tae.

What I enjoy about this interaction is the way Tae is fearless around Hijikata; his demon nickname and reputation don’t intimidate her. She knows just how to push his buttons, too, teasing him about his voice actor and how historians have a bone to pick with such brazen depictions of famed samurai. As for Hijikata, he reveals that he knows just how much of a powerful force she is, wielding great influence over the Shinsengumi, impacting their reputation with their commander under her thumb.

This interaction shows the potential for fun bantering and bickering between them. They don’t hesitate to challenge one another, and as we see in the top two moments below, they also don’t hesitate to support or defend one another/what’s important to them for the other’s sake.

(3) Timeskip Arc

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“Please, for our child’s sake, we have to run away! To a world without gorillas!”

“Did you think something like this would fool me? Give me the kid and scram. I’ll look after him.”

Never in my wildest imagination did I think Sorachi would give us a canon child for this ship. Togoro is the hypothetical son of Hijikata and Tae in an otherwise hilarious farce of a story arc. Tae is noted to be pregnant and married to Kondou, and then gives birth within an hour to a baby whose father is revealed to be Hijikata. She wants to run off with him and raise their child together. Hijikata refuses, saying he will raise the child as a single father. And then he proceeds to name the child (as a fifteenth son and as a combination of his and Tamegoro’s names) and begs Shinpachi to let Togoro live.

Some people say Tae’s ambition was to have a child with Hijikata. To me, it’s more like she envisioned a soap opera plot line, typical of the drama series she watches, especially since when she and Hijikata first talk in the Yagyuu arc, she imagined Kondou and Hijikata vying for her affections in true theatrical style. She could have had that baby with somebody else, but once again, Hijikata is in the mix, and probably made for a more dramatic soap opera story line of a woman caught between the police chief and his deputy.

As for Hijikata’s ambition, well, it’s a little hard to say since he and Shinpachi were the stand-in for the audience, trying to unravel this mystery of a wart-infused world only to find that they had become warts themselves. At least we see that Hijikata, once confronted with the possibility of fatherhood, was willing to take responsibility. He’s not explicitly interested in Tae as a romantic prospect, and I don’t expect it since Sorachi would and should have written obvious interest (something that people can’t deny) between them right from the start, so that it would make sense later.

But, it doesn’t change the fact that Togoro is Hijikata and Tae’s hypothetical son and theirs alone, warts and all.

(2) Farewell Shinsengumi Arc

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“If you really do want to drink, I don’t mind spending a while with you.”

“If you poured it for me with that face, I wouldn’t be able to drink it.”

There are few moments that have triggered Hijikata into fierce emotional reaction. He has shed tears for Mitsuba, the Shinsengumi’s disbandment and Kondou’s arrest, and Kondou’s revival. He’s gotten angry on behalf of not only Kondou, but also Tetsunosuke for what Isaburou was doing and saying to him. Hijikata is short-tempered, most of the time for comedic purposes, and he’s endured many ordeals in his young life, so it takes a lot to push him over the edge into true sorrow and true rage.

Nobu Nobu cuts the neck (actually does cut it in the manga) of a teary-eyed Tae, who defended Kondou and his reputation. She knows she could easily lose her life for going against the Shogun. That was the reason Hijikata had held back on doing or saying anything. Perhaps he feared anything he might do would advance Kondou’s execution, threaten the remaining Shinsengumi, and further endanger civilians’ lives. Feeling he could do nothing, he stood there, taking the shame and the mockery from both Isaburou and Nobu Nobu – that is, until Tae’s life is threatened. And, finally, Hijikata reacts with a terrifying gleam of rage in his eyes.

This is the kind of trope that comes standard with any kind of ship, romantic or platonic, when someone shows great concern and fury for another being threatened. If this were another series, people would be proclaiming “canon” all over the place, but in this fandom, very few acknowledge this scene, and they skip over to other parts instead. But that doesn’t make Hijikata or Tae’s acts insignificant.

As for Tae, we’ve seen her shed tears of sorrow for Kyuubei, for Hajime, and now for Kondou. While it has taken many chapters to reach this point, it’s clear she respects and believes him to be a good man. Standing up to a tyrannical shogun at this point in the story could mean immediate execution. Tae risked her life to defend Kondou, to stand up for what she believed in, and it did not go unnoticed. We know how devoted Hijikata is to Kondou, how his arrest left Hijikata in such a broken state of mind, but Tae’s defense and life-threatening moment sparked something once more; the catalyst needed for when the rest of the Shinsengumi reignited that fire within.

Of course, it could have been anyone else, and Hijikata would have done his best to ensure no civilians are harmed. But he wasn’t able to move or act during that time of mockery by his enemies. He said and felt he couldn’t do anything at all with Kondou gone. But I think hearing Tae’s impassioned speech, sharing in her belief that Kondou would never conduct himself so shamefully, inspired him to act. He knows Tae is important to Kondou, and I like to think Tae is important enough to Hijikata as a comrade, as a friend—and the potential for more is what fans love about this scene.

Kozenigata did call the Shinsengumi, “her police,” and that includes Hijikata. It’s why she played a role in the Farewell Shinsengumi arc, and in the Silver Soul arc, she welcomed them back home to Edo. The Shinsengumi admire, fear, and respect Tae, and so her police they remain.

(1) Yagyuu Arc

Gif Source. (Permission granted to hyperlink gifs, so please like or reblog from the original post, thank you.)

“I…am the worst, aren’t I? In the end…going off on my own…I got other people hurt because of it. Causing trouble for Kyuu-chan…and for everyone else. Even though I couldn’t see it through until the very end, I did it with such half-hearted conviction… What I did in the end wasn’t for anyone’s sake.”

“You’re not a Buddha. Did you think you could save everyone in front of you? No matter how many bones you break trying, there are things you can save and things you can’t. So what? Is your way of life so fragile that it would break with this? Now, if there was someone who could be saved by your so-called half-hearted kindness…what would you do?”

This is the official first HijiTae moment within Sorachi’s manga canon: the Yagyuu arc launched two new Tae ships. You’d think the previous moment would be the culmination of everything, but it is the beginning that I find the most important because it shows that Hijikata and Tae are capable of civil conversation and speaking to one another as equals.

We first start out with a comedic exchange in which Tae thinks Hijikata has come to battle for her heart against Kondou, followed by a brief banter of which drama series best suits Kondou and Tae’s imaginary tales. But the point of his visit is to convince Tae to marry Kondou just to help him avoid marrying a gorilla. He earns bonus points for saying that “No means no” when a woman declines.

Later, after the main events of the arc, Tae invites everyone back to Snack Smile to apologize to them, but they’re present at Kondou’s wedding. Only Hijikata goes, and I think he went back because he knows Tae has a good heart. He doesn’t ask her specifically to marry Kondou again, but he listens to her outpouring of feelings over the situation. He then gives practical advice, and in a roundabout way, asks if she will consider just saving Kondou from his wedding at least. And Tae does.

What I love about this arc is their conversations – from casual and fun to serious and thought-provoking – and it didn’t take them hundreds of chapters to reach that point. They arrived there easily and naturally. This quiet moment of introspection they share was more than enough for me to solidify my love for them, and that fondness for the HijiTae ship has continued on for almost twelve years.

BONUS: Soul Switch Arc

A bonus only because it doesn’t strictly involve the two of them alone.

People often forget that Tae only blushed after Hijikata-in-Gintoki’s-body flirted with her. She was charmed by Hijikata’s way of flirting, which was very genteel and sincere and a bit impassioned, much like the way he wrote Shinpachi’s letter for Kirara. When Gintoki-in-Hijikata’s body attempted his usual way of flirting, Tae was unimpressed, aside from being skeptical that Hijikata would truly proposition her. However, once she took it as truth, she was more than willing to consider him a prospect.

In my opinion, Gintoki on his own really doesn’t do anything for Tae since the only moments she was romantically attracted to him was when he lost his memories and original personality, and when he was actually Hijikata. She has also mentioned desiring a partner with a stable income, and I can see someone more traditional, not to mention stricter in handling one’s responsibilities, fitting in better with her lifestyle (hence why Kondou and Kyuubei are the other commonly teased ships), whereas Gintoki is more unconventional about life, going at his own pace. Tae always bases her life around goals and working toward them; she’s not the type to sit around, doing nothing, waiting only to welcome people home when she has a life and dream of her own, too.

There are some other minor interactions (not to mention that Otose and Tatsugoro parallel), but these five are the most important and relevant.

And there you have it. This is a summary of why I enjoy the Hijikata x Tae ship so much. They are both people who hold fast to their convictions, and who do their best to be strong for others’ sake, both leading, respectively, a district and a military police force. They are capable of comedic and civil conversations with one another; prone to bickering but also fighting for one another’s cause based on what they feel is right. At the very least, they remain friends and comrades in the end.

Nothing changes what Sorachi wrote about and for them. It was all his decision, not mine, and if others can celebrate moments for their ship, then there’s no reason I can’t, either. All the negative arguments people throw at me, I have addressed before, so I will not waste time doing so again. I’m not obligated to respond or justify a fictional ship to strangers on the Internet at their demand. Fandom is not a monolith required to bend to a single person’s will, and liking one ship doesn’t cause the erasure of others (that line of reasoning is beyond ridiculous). If you don’t like the ship, the simplest thing is to move on with your life and forget the ship exists.

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theprogressofspring · 6 years

Text

Why did Voldemort force Peter to move in with Snape?

Long ago, I said my next piece would be about why Peter went back to Voldemort. HOWEVER there has been some recent interest from readers regarding the subject of Snape and Peter living together, and I’m grateful for the encouragement and for the reminder! It’s been a while since I’ve added a new essay to the bunch, and I admit that this is one of the periods of Peter’s life (not to mention a plot of Voldemort’s) that I find especially fascinating.

Voldemort’s decision to place Peter at Spinner’s End likely happened immediately after the events at the Little Hangleton graveyard in Goblet of Fire: Voldemort has a body now. He no longer requires full-time care, nor would he want to remind his followers that he ever needed it—it wouldn’t do to have Peter remain by his side. Plus, all this one-on-one time and physical/magical reliance has given Peter an unusual amount of knowledge about Voldemort, and perhaps the knowledge has made Peter…overly familiar. So, Voldemort removes Peter to Spinner’s End, and likely moves back into the Riddle House in Little Hangleton by himself.*

*Between the World Cup and Triwizard Tournament, Voldemort and Peter were living at Barty Crouch Sr’s home, which has now been compromised due to Barty Jr’s arrest. Voldemort doesn’t move into Malfoy Manor until right before Deathly Hallows begins.

Therefore, Peter is out of a job. I expect that Peter—with his fancy silver hand and Voldemort’s apparent gratitude—thought that he would now take his place at the Adult Table with the rest of the still-loyal first-tier Death Eaters that showed up at Little Hangleton when Voldemort called them. But…no.

Instead, Voldemort removes Peter from the Inner Circle, where all the action is happening and the plans are being made, and places him not only in Snape’s company, but in Snape’s own house, and therefore—it could be argued—under Snape’s authority.

Snape is, admittedly, not in the most secure position among the Death Eaters and Voldemort. He’s only just reemerged after living in essentially Dumbledore’s lap for the last 15 years. But he has over a decade of information that is valuable to Voldemort, and Voldemort isn’t foolish enough to disregard that, even if he doesn’t fully trust Snape (yet).

I suspect Voldemort placed Snape and Peter together for a couple reasons:

1. to have them spy on each other;

2. to get Peter out of his hair (or lack thereof), but not out of his orbit;

3. to stir shit.

Voldemort doesn’t fully trust Snape yet—he needs to hear some of that alleged Dumbledore/Order information first—and he’s never seen Peter operating as a full-time Death Eater**; there’s plenty of reason to believe that Peter might try to make a run for it.

**Unlike some, I don’t believe Peter was a fully Marked Death Eater until after Voldemort regained a body. I don’t think he was involved with/loyal to Voldemort at all during the First War—he spilled the beans to save his own life, not out of loyalty to or love of evil.

It kills two birds with one stone to give these men the task of checking up on each other—it fosters competition, and it doesn’t require any extra manpower. Each takes care of the other.

There’s a sort of apocryphal legend about Pharoahs and their tombs. I’m not sure how true it is, but it illustrates my next point well. When a Pharoah—along with an architect—designed and built his tomb, he wanted to ensure that his was the largest, grandest, and most spectacular tomb that had ever come before or after. So, when the Pharoah died, the architect might be killed and placed in the tomb with the Pharoah. This way, the royal architect would never be able to improve upon that which he had made, and never share the secrets of the Pharoah’s tomb with anyone else.

This is the principle upon which Voldemort is working with regards to removing Peter from his side and his confidence. Peter, frankly, knows too much. He was Voldemort’s sole confidant for nearly a year.

It is EXTREMELY likely that Peter is the only Death Eater who is clearly aware that Voldemort has not only one Horcrux, but several.^ Peter likely knows how Horcruxes are made and was almost certainly there when Nagini was made into one. He has seen Voldemort at his most vulnerable as well as at his most evil. Peter has proven himself not only a competent wizard, but an extraordinary one. Not to mention a dogged survivor!

^Snape doesn’t become aware of this until Dumbledore shows up with a rotting hand and the Peverell ring between OotP and HBP.

Peter’s not worth killing, either. A man who is willing to do anything to live is a valuable tool for someone like Lord Voldemort. Peter has proven that he’s willing to do the dirty work. (Bertha Jorkins, for example.)^^

^^In this way, Peter:Voldemort::Snape:Dumbledore. It’s a delicious and compelling parallel that lends itself beautifully to this circumstance.

Besides, Voldemort created his own insurance in the form of the silver hand, which seems to be programmed to kill Peter should he show an inclination to disobey Voldemort. Regarding the circumstances of Peter’s death as a consequence of sparing Harry’s life, there’s some confusion regarding the Life Debt business, but both the text and Pottermore heavily imply (or claim outright) that Peter did indeed show Harry a moment of mercy†, and the hand turned on him and strangled him to death as punishment for that mercy.

†The canon text grants this only grudgingly—Peter himself seems surprised to have done it, which muddies the waters a bit re: the hand and its motives/purpose.

Now, to my third point:

Almost nobody would argue with the idea that Voldemort is a raging drama queen. So when I say Voldemort was absolutely stirring shit by putting Snape and Peter under the same roof, you shouldn’t find it at all surprising.

It’s not just the fact that Peter ran with the two boys that made Snape’s life a living hell for almost a decade (and contributed to that hell, I’m sure, in his own right), not to mention with the werewolf who nearly—through no fault of Remus’s own—killed Snape. By the time Goblet of Fire ends, Snape is well aware that for all of his other awful and infuriating personality traits, Sirius is indeed innocent of betraying the Potters. Which can mean only one thing:

Snape knows that Peter Pettigrew is the one responsible for Lily’s death.

Snape’s feelings for and relationship to Lily were not a secret, especially to Voldemort (since Snape asked him to spare Lily’s life) and to the people Snape went to school with—especially James, who was fixated on and jealous of Snape and Lily’s friendship. Peter would, of course, be aware. I have no doubt that Peter immediately realized the position he was being put in when Voldemort ordered him to live with Snape in Spinner’s End, and I’m sure he was quite rightly nervous.

Isn’t that a delightful little mindfuck move on Voldemort’s part? Putting Snape and Peter together in time-out is a very practical punishment. He puts Snape with his childhood tormentor and the one who got the woman he loved killed, as punishment for perceived abandonment. And naturally Voldemort would be aware that Snape would hate and resent Peter because of their shared childhood and because of Lily; so what a fitting punishment for Peter, who is a man terrified that his past will catch up to him. All because he dared to witness Voldemort at his weakest. (Voldemort is SO petty, you guys.) And it dovetails so nicely with the primary reasons for placing them together: both Snape and Peter will be on edge, each desperate to prove his own loyalties as well as extra sensitive to any flaw in his roommate’s.

But Snape can’t let on that Lily’s death bothers him, nor murder Peter and risk outing himself as disloyal to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. What Snape can do, however, is make Peter’s time in Spinner’s End unpleasant and irritating. And the chapter Spinner’s End establishes exactly that: Snape treats Peter like a servant, and—as he does to Bellatrix—likely lords his own usefulness to Voldemort (and therefore, his arguably larger worth to him) over Peter’s head in the process.

And Peter can’t fight back. He’s not an idiot—he’s the kind of guy who knows when he knows too much. As to why he puts up with Snape treating him like shit, on one hand, I’m sure Peter is aware he deserves it (and besides, it’s only a couple months until Hogwarts is back in session). On the other, it’s not going to help him one whit to go complaining to Voldemort. As Peter’s been excused from the field of duty (and would frankly be too conspicuous‡), he can’t do anything to earn a reward, and unless he has rock-hard evidence that Snape is a traitor to Voldemort, Peter knows he’s stuck where he is. Which is exactly why he puts so much effort into spying on Snape in the hopes of catching him out and taking the opportunity to restore himself in Voldemort’s good graces. (Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Voldemort suggested that was a Very Important Job and the only way for Peter to make his way back to the Adult Table.)

‡Sirius parallel!

Unfortunately, we only get a tiny glimpse into the life that Snape and Peter had made! There’s a massive well of tantalizing possibilities here regarding their interactions in Spinner’s End—how do you think it went? (I have a pet theory that they ended up tolerating each other quite well—they’re both DEEPLY lonely men with a great deal of shared history and references. I think there’s a lot about each other that they understand, which can, of course, be repulsive in this instance, but when it comes to a roommate, sometimes you also have to get on with it and cook a shared dinner and chat about the day’s events.)

I always love hearing your reactions, questions, and observations on these essays—please do keep them coming! If you like this, check out the rest of my Peter collection here.

#peter pettigrew #severus snape #Harry Potter #HP meta #meta #my meta #justice4peter2k18 #lord voldemort #i made this

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amilynh · 5 years

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Okay, let’s try this again. I’d love a DVD commentary on Leia and Hera’s conversation in “War Orphans.”

Excerpts included from “War Orphans.” [I hope you’re happy...this is longer than the fic itself... LOLOLOL!]

Before she even touched him, the princesspulled him away, holding more tightly if anything. “I’ve got him,”she snapped.

“I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t.”

I knew from the time I got the promptthat I desperately wanted to see Hera and Leia interact, and I used Jacen asthe catalyst, having Hera need to do a job and Leia casually volunteer to watchJacen (to everyone’s surprise and Hera’s embarrassment). I did a bunch of assembling ofinformation…that Hera is about 10 years older than Leia, that Leia (likeLuke) is only about 3 days younger than Ezra, and that neither of them has everlived in a time where the galaxy was not at war (even though there is a lull inopen hostilities on the Core Worlds after the rise of the Empire). We knew by the time I wrote this that Leiaand Hera were both on Yavin IV, that Hera flew at the Battle of Scarif, thatshe was likely to have been on Yavin again when Han and Luke returned from theDeath Star was a Super Compartmentalizing Leia, and that Hera flew against thesecond Death Star.

I thought quite a bit about how wellthese two women would know each other, and I decided that they would know eachother by name, reputation, and from planning meetings, but that, sadly, sincethey move in different circles–by social standing and, in particular, by rolein the Rebellion–they wouldn’t be friends.

I believe Leia was prickly from themoment she was captured on the Tantive IV until, well, after Han’s rescue fromTatooine. I think that was most noticeablein the period between her imprisonment on the Death Star and the evacuationfrom Hoth; I think Leia was just…existing then, and I think that the Leia weseen in ESB very much did not expect to survive the war. In many ways, I think she considered herselfa dead girl walking; she’d cheated death already (on the Death Star, by notbeing on Alderaan, in countless raids and on countless missions, in dodgyspacecraft….) and everyone she’d ever loved died in front of her eyes aftershe’d been relentlessly tortured. I thinkher prickliness is entirely a self-protection mechanism…and a side-effect ofher depression, survivor’s guilt, rage, grief, and single-minded vendetta againstthe Empire.

I liked having everyone surprised at hervolunteering to take care of Jacen because ALL of the above would lead anyoneto believe that the workaholic princess who is the Face of the Rebellionwould…be too busy, not like kids, have no capacity to deal with a child’semotions, etc. However, I believe Leiais 100% a pragmatist, and if Hera was more needed in the air than Leia was inCommand? She’d volunteer in aninstant. I do think, although she doesn’tthink this way about herself, that Leia believed in the need to keep in mindwhat they were fighting for: children,customs, loved ones. Leia only eschewedthose because hers are all already gone; she doesn’t HAVE anything left to livefor when she thinks about after the war (not yet…)…but Hera does, and Leiacan safeguard that.

Even so, she’s prickly with anyone whosees her “weaknesses,” and with anyone who questions her. Having her refuse to hand over Jacen, havingher refuse to accept comfort or sympathy from Hera…she can’t. She just absolutely cannot let anyone touchthe depths of her grief, not even kindly. She packed it all away before comforting Luke, before saying “We have notime for our sorrows,” looooong before this, and she’s not about to look intothat box herself; I believe she feels, at this point before ESB, that if sheever looked–really looked–at the gaping, yawning maw of grief that is thedestruction of Alderaan…she would never, in her mind, recover or climb backout of that chasm. Grief that great isbottomless and it’s daunting to look at. So, here, she has this child with her who fears losing his parents theway she has already lost hers, this child who never saw and will never seeAlderaan, this child who reasonably could die or lose his mother (as he’salready lost his father even before his birth), this child who is already makingmilitary plans because that is what his entire life is immersed in…and theutter trust in a child who will ASK Leia if his mommy is going to die(something Jacen can’t ask *Hera*…), and to whom she couldn’t bring herselfto give a harsh answer to (because, let’s face it, we’ve seen Leia with Wicket:she’s a sucker for kids), but to whom she can’t quite fully outright LIE…andyet…she might be wrong. And so thiskid melds into her, sobbing, and falls asleep on her **like she’s a realperson**…not a princess or a leader or a figurehead or a mascot…and all ofthose things she has tucked away…she can’t deny their realty as they press ather in the form of a warm little kid, treating her like the kind of real personSHE can no longer see herself as. And,of course, a kid who is openly grieving and crying over the very losses andfears that Leia tries to pretend she doesn’t notice in herself…that’s a toughsituation NOT to cry in. And I reallywanted Leia to dissolve into that emotional place she denies herself for thefirst three years of time in which we know her.

Then Hera comes in and sees her, sees theversion of her that NO ONE WILL SEE, DAMMIT…the version of her she tuckedaway and boxed up deep inside herself when Vader was rifling through hermind…and it is almost as much of an intrusion as the torture…or so it seemsin that first moment. And NO WAY is shegoing to hand off the child who is her one tether, her one lifeline in thatmoment, and the catalyst for her own emotional outlet: the ONE person who hasever treated her Just As Leia in the past 2+ years (without the weight of allthe knowledge of the Death Star and Alderaan and Who She Is and What She StandsFor…because Han treats her Just As Leia, too, but he does so as someone who onlyknows Post-Alderaan Leia)…because Jacen knows Bail is dead, that it wasbecause of the Empire, but, to him, it’s just a simple fact without the WEIGHTthat is attached for the adults. So Leiasnaps at the poor kid’s mother.

“It was no trouble. You hadimportant work to do.” Leia swallowed audibly. Breathed. Breathed again.She gestured to the scattered toys. “He’s going to be a great general,like his mother and grandfather. He planned an entire assault on that tooka ofhis.” Her voice grew less damp with each word.

“Princess, I can take him if…” Heraleft the offer hanging.

Leia tightened her grip on Jacen. “It’sLeia,” she said, voice even. Her small, gloved hand stroked Jacen’s back.“I got him to call me Leia. You should too.”

Then Leia starts to try and pull herselftogether: act like a Princess, act likea Diplomat, comment on someone’s skills, give an assessment, give orders. Shestill can’t let go of this child, but she can put her façade back together, onecool, calm compliment at a time. And,simultaneously, I want so much for Leia to have some *women* around her, so sheopens herself up, just a tiny bit, by encouraging a first-name relationshipbetween her and Hera. I think Leianeeded women around her so badly, and Hera, along with Shara Bey, are two ofthe few named women we knew were part of the Rebellion at this stage.

Leia peered around Jacen’s head thenleaned back. “Your son led his troops to victory over his tooka. Then heheld up three X-wings told me, ‘These ones died fighting the Empire. Like mydaddy.’”

“Why would you tell him that?” Leiademanded.

But…that leads straight back to the cruxof the matter…who this child is, what he knows, who this child’s parents are,and the reality of being a child who knows their parents might die at any timebecause, well, just like Leia and Hera, Jacen has already lost a parent to theEmpire, too. And Leia, who is AllPragmatism, oh, she Just Cannot with the idea that this child might know fartoo much, even though it IS pragmatic and realistic. She has this momentary break with her abilityto can because can’t they have just one thing that is not touched by theEmpire? Can’t there be SOMETHING that theEmpire hasn’t tainted?

“After he said his father died, hesaid, 'Like your daddy.’ Why would you tell him that?”

And to make things worse, Jacen knowsabout Bail…he knows SO MUCH MORE than he should, and Leia, used to being the subjectof gossip, can only assume that someone is talking about her EVEN WITH THISCHILD. So, as much as she admiresGeneral Syndulla’s piloting and leadership skills, part of the reason she won’trelinquish this child is that she now has serious reservations about the otherwoman’s judgement in terms of parenting skills. AND she feels that, not only has Hera seen her cry, seen her “weak,” butif Hera will gossip to her small child, what else might Hera tell about thiswhole day…Leia babysitting, Leia crying in a distant tunnel… And, of course, when Hera, who sees that thisis a manifestation of the Force, starts to say so, it sounds like the worstkind of assumption-making and victim-blaming, and Leia goes right back on thedefensive…and lets one of her most closely-held secrets slip in the process.

“I didn’t tell him anything,”Hera said. “It’s possible someone else did, but I think it was you.”

Leia turned, her eyes flashing and dangerous.“I told him nothing of the kind.”

“I don’t think you,” Hera paused,bit her lip. “I don’t think you told him on purpose.”

“You think I just accidentally let slipto a toddler that the Empire blew up my entire planet before my eyes?”

They’d made her watch, Hera realized. Becauseof course they did.

One of the questions that I like to askpeople for their head canons about is, “Who do you think knows that they madeLeia watch the destruction of Alderaan…and when do you think they learnedabout it?” In my head, it’s Han, Luke,and (probably) Carlist Rieekan, and (probably) Mon Mothma. I don’t actually think that Hera is on thatlist in canon (even my personal canon), but the idea of having her find outhere was tantalizing, and gave me the chance to talk more about how much thesetwo women, these two mothers (one current in the story and one, at the time ofthe story, a future mother), these two leaders…how MUCH they have in common, and,simultaneously, how differently those similarities have presented. This is particularly and additionallypoignant given that it’s possible that Jacen might have been among the Jedistudents slaughtered by a four- or five-years-younger Ben Solo, which wouldeven more horribly link their stories. But this line “because of course they did,” is one of my favorites. I like giving Hera the information notbecause Leia made a decision, but because she’s ripped open, and although she’sreconstructing her shields and walls…she hasn’t got them really working, andshe forgets to filter herself. I likehaving Hera’s stomach drop because she knows…she KNOWS how the Empire works;she’s been tortured by them too, as was Kanan, as have been others Hera knowsand loves…and yet, she was a) too preoccupied to think about this at the time(see: having a baby) and b) this is pretty low even for the Empire. But Hera, like most of the Rebellion, doesn’treally believe ANYTHING is too low for the Empire, and although she hadn’tactively thought about what must have happened, I know that she wouldimmediately recognize that OF COURSE.

Leia scoffed. “Luke doesn’t even knowthat. I never told him. And he says he can’t see into people like that.”

“Kanan could.”

Leia scoffed. “If Darth Vader couldn’tget something out of my head, I doubt–”

“You had to protect yourself fromVader.” Hera had no idea how Leia–a kid Ezra’s age–had managed that, butapparently she had, and without the Force. Hera shook away the thought. The wellof feeling there was too deep. Focus, Hera. “Not many people feel aneed to protect themselves from a 3-year-old.”

I wanted Leia to be on such a tear that shedidn’t even realize until after she blurted it out that she was giving more informationto Hera than she’d probably given even to High Command…and certainly morethan she speaks of. I want so much forLeia to have more people who KNOW how badly she’s been hurt, and who will talkwith her or listen to her or give her a place to crash, judgement-free, if sheneeds. I want her to have comfortingwomen around her…and for them to do that well…they need to know things thatLeia Organa Very Much Does Not Talk About. As I questioned how Jacen could get past Leia’s(impressive) shields, I realized AS Hera was about to say it that, well, ofCOURSE Leia wouldn’t be powering up Super Shields around a 3-year-old…and Ireally liked getting to let Hera say that, letting Hera remind Leia that thereis nothing WRONG with her, that different circumstances call for differentresponses.

I also liked lampshading Leiahaving the Force by having Hera (who, again, is FAR too concerned and FAR toopreoccupied to examine it closely…and FAR too impressed by this amazing youngwoman) think about how it seemed odd and even unlikely that Leia could have enduredthat kind of extended torture without giving something up AND without the Forceto use as part of her self-defense. Little does Hera know that Leia WAS using the Force…just unconsciously(another of my headcanons) and passively; if it were otherwise, Vader would havesensed it. There is nothing I love morethan Force-using Leia, so I had to have at least a hint at it, even though itdoesn’t fit in this story to have it be explored more fully…of course, this also allowed me to highlight how LITTLE they know about the Force. EACH of them has known next to NO ONE who is Force Sensitive and all of what they know about what is possible is from that limited, limited source.

Leia chuckled mirthlessly. “If you heardHigh Command, you might see otherwise. When Shara Bey’s son was born, you’dhave thought an acid lizard had got loose on base.”

This line was merely because I wanted tomake a joke about High Command being FREAKED OUT about having babies/childrenaround…even though it’s the reality of a rebellion this size; they MUST allowchildren in order for their parents to be able to be there…but it doesn’tmean that these folks who still remember and want to restore the Republic are*comfortable* with that. Of course, tothat end, I spent 2-3 hours searching for a critter that is canonical and thatI could use as an example of what they’d imagine might have got loose in thebase.

I really enjoyed having Leia’s hard-edgedvoice that could cut transparisteel, the description of Jacen asking if, sinceLeia’s mama died in the war, if that meant his mama would die; that is kidlogic, and I still like it. I likedhaving them end up crying together. Iliked having Leia point out what Hera feels she should have known…but whatJacen has been hiding from her…and I like that both women understand thatthere is no alternative, no way to honourably pretend they don’t know thesethings because, well, they are simply real, and no grief or fear from any ofthem or this toddler can change the fact that they are both utterly committedto this being the only option: to fight.

Leia’s jaw hardened. “Don’t you daredie.” Her eyes bored into Hera’s. That glare was sharp in a way thatreminded Hera of Kanan.

Hera nodded.

“Just…don’t you dare. I promised him Iwouldn’t let you die.”

“I always fly to come home.” It hadto be enough. It was all she had.

“Fly safe, General Syndulla. Don’tmake me a liar.”

And then I loved getting to drop anotherhint–that fiercely sharp otherworldly stare of Leia’s that reminds Hera ofKanan–about Leia’s Force sensitivity. ANYTHING I can do to play with that makes me happy. And I love Leia exacting a promise from Herathat Hera can no more keep than Leia can keep her promise to Jacen. Of course…there is a little more to thosepromises than there would be without the Force behind them…but it is just alittle when the Greater Good of the Force is flowing toward the destruction ofthe Empire. I know, of course, that Herasurvives the second Death Star assault, so I like planting this conversation,knowing that it will turn out well, but knowing that it is fraught for both ofthem.

I love this scene and this story somuch. Thank you for asking about it!

#meme #asked and answered #star wars #fanfic #my fic #my fanfic #meme me one more time baby #director commentary #commentary #leia organa #hera syndulla #lajulie24

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littlegalerion · 5 years

Text

Shipathon Meme!

Tagged by @sheirukitriesfandom Thanks for tagging me and giving me an excuse to rant about ships~ Tagging: @foxyhearts @diamond-loki @greennightingale 1.) First Ship you Ever Wrote Fic For? It was for Vanus and Caafire, and it actually got featured front page on an animo! It was old Caafire though, before I had developed her to her current status of unable-to-use-magic-because-if-she-does-she’ll-explode sword swinger master. Back then she was just a free lance battlemage with a bad family life. 2.) Ship you Write Most Now? Well... tech I write for Trechire x Eliindil (Sheogorath) most now because that’s my timeline’s canon, so every time I write using characters in that universe I’m tech writing that ship, as Sunnabela and Kirr are their kids (Sunnabela his step-son, but Eliindil raised him). Just it’s a post-ship writing I guess? In terms of who I formulate for the most, that would probably be Laloriaran X Trechire in the AU, which I really should write more of. 3.)Ship you Read the Most Now? Sotha Sil x S/O, and it’s more just headcanon fluff stuff really. I wish there was more Sotha Sil x S/O, but that’s “not lore friendly” so I think a lot of would be writers get intimidated and scared away by lorebeards to write any solid series with it. I HAVE seen some, and for that I’m grateful. The headcanons at least seem to be multiplying beautifully. 4.) Newest Ship? Some questions are best left unanswered. 5.) Rare Ship you Wanna Read More of? Bring on the Sotha Sil x S/O or the Vanus x S/O. Please, spoil me. 6.) Your Taboo Ship? Okay, I can already feel the heat of sheer rage from people reading what I’m gonna write under this. But Vanus x Mannimarco is the most toxic ship I have ever seen, in ANY fandom. Firstly, heavily cliche. “They hate each other so at one time they must have liked or loved each other” No, that is not what that means. Sometimes it could be the case, but if it was romantic, then it wasn’t a “little falling out”. Vanus and Mannimarco are legends in their war against each other. In ESO Mannimarco loudly insults and kills mages of the guild, while Vanus openly spits against necromancy. Both very passionately doing so. If something romantic did happen, it’s a romance with no good memories in it. Secondly, it’s abusive. In Summerset, we get to see the two of them in their youth interacting. During this quest, it’s very obvious Mannimarco is manipulating Vanus, who is very optimistic and wants to believe the best in his friend. Mannimarco, however, doesn’t care. He never saw Vanus as an equal, BUT as a potentially USEFUL mage. He probably did feel a sting when Vanus rejected necromancy, but it wasn’t because “oh dear, my lover has rejected me!” It was most likely because Mannimarco realized he had lost a very useful future second in command, and gained an enemy which would prove a pain for years to come. I like to also point out, Mannimarco wasn’t this lonely little necromancer in the Order. We see a note concerning him in the dungeon that proves he had other friends and, while perhaps not well received overall, he had their respect as a senior member. What I’m getting at is, if there was ANY romantic or sexual relationship between Mannimarco and Vanus, it was NOT healthy. Mannimarco knew what he was doing, and was most likely an emotionally abusive partner. The type that gets uncomfortably moody or guilt trips their partner to get his way. He is SEEN doing this in the quest, actually, when Vanus catches him raising a skeleton guar, Mannimarco replies, “I thought you’d understand” and “You sound like the Ritemaster.” A chord he knew would hit Vanus hard, which it did, as Vanus stumbles to reply and drops the argument. Listen, if your s/o does something that makes you feel very uncomfortable and unsafe, then you go to them about it and they pull that crap on you, YOU LEAVE. Lastly, a lot of the time it seems I see this ship under “cute gay mages owo”. Gay couples deserve healthy relationships. Gay relationships do not need to be soaked in pure drama and dark tones to exist. Especially in Elder Scrolls, where gay couples live happily and were never considered out of place. Do not hide under the gay tag to get away with an abusive ship. Being gay doesn’t excuse a person for being an asshole, or for someone to be a pushover. But that’s enough of my ravings against that ship. For the record, I adore Mannimarco as a villain; he’s one the best I’ve ever seen, honestly. So this isn’t just an unfair rage fest against him. 7.) They never met in Canon Ship? I feel like I have a ship on the tip of my tongue, but it just isn’t coming out. I’m drawing a blank. Nerevar with literally anyone else other than Ayem? 8.)Your unexpected Ship? Lyris and her Redguard husband were a surprise. I usually don’t relate to the warrior types in these games, but these two are just sweethearts. 9.) The Ship you Always Forget to give Love to? Verandis x Trechire. GEEZE, I forget about them so much and it’s probably the most logical ship. Verandis is a vampire lord who wants to convince the world vampires aren’t always evil, and to convince other vampires they shouldn’t live at war with the world. Trechire is a werewolf alpha who hides her wolf self from virtually everyone she knows, save for her pack, who she strives to teach to be true hunters with a code of honor. Not just some hounds who bark crazily at passersby who have a bow in their hands. Both mages, both Altmer, both famous for their family names, so there’s lots of pressure on them. They’d have so much to talk about, and would be such a stress reliever to each other. 10.) Ship your OC with a canon character? I already do, that’s like half the ships already in this post. My biggest one is Laloriaran x Trechire. Although Trechire x Sheogorath is my canon, as Eliindil becomes Sheogorath, so that counts as a canon character? 11.) Ship you’re embarrassed to Ship? She recently acquired his staff motif in this big event on ESO. He recently traded his old staff design in for the new Chapter, but in the main quest line his character model still has it. That’s all I’m saying, because I don’t take the ship seriously, but it still exists and fuels my nightmares. 12.)Your most Romantic Ship? Trechire and Eliindil, because Trechire was made by me, Eliindil is an OC made by both me and my fiance who helps flesh out his personality, design, and background. Then of course Laloriaran and Trechire.... 13.)Your Sexiest Ship? If I don’t say Sheogorath and Trechire, pretty sure I’m getting teleported 50 feet above the stone surface of where I shall die. 14.) Your most Tragic Ship? Laloriaran and Trechire, who ARE in my canon but of course, Laloriaran dies. In her canon, Trechire completed the events of Morrowind, Clockwork City, and Summerset before the main questline of ESO. She had seen so many friends or just good people die. Leythen being ripped from reality right before her, Darien being forced to sacrifice himself and Trechire reading his last words before him fading away forever. Tanval Indoril dying from his own mistake, Verandis making a stupid decision out of desperation and guilt. Not to mention all the numerous little quests where this innocent and complicated person dies or suffers in the end. ESO is vicious. She had witnessed so much death, and in Laloriaran’s eyes she saw someone who understood that pain. More than anything in the world, she wanted the last Ayleid to return to Tamriel, where he’d be among friends that wouldn’t count on him for survival, but live and thrive together. She made a promise in her heart, if ANYONE would survive, even at the cost of her own life, Trechire would see to it that Laloriaran did, be it as a lover or as a friend. And in the end, he died in her arms, Trechire a healer who could offer nothing to save him. 15.) A Ship You want more Content For? Again, BRING ON THE VANUS WITH S/O AND SOTHA SIL WITH S/O, PLEASE.

#boy this was fun #vanus #vanus galerion #sotha sil #verandis #tanval #Laloriaran #laloriaran dynar #elder scrolls #elder scrolls online

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asiryn · 5 years

Text

alright.........i finished kh3. so here’s some Thoughts. still gonna put behind a cut, and obvs there will be spoilers there.

so, to try to maintain some coherency, i’m gonna split this up into Good and Bad sections. we’ll start with the Bad, so i can let the salt out, and this post can end on a positive note. XD

The Bad:

some of these are more minor things, and some are.....much bigger, and are actually weakening the strength of the game and the conclusion, imo. so i’m gonna work my way up, from least to most Bothersome.

- the fact that eraqus apologized to ven and aqua, but not terra..........like wooooow, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you know, i was actually considering forgiving you a little bit for a second, but lolololol noooooope!!!!!!!!!!! not anymore!!!!!!!!!!! you fucked up terra even worse than the other two (which yes, damn right you should apologize to them, particularly ven), and really, you are the root cause of him falling into xehanort’s clutches in the first damn place, and you don’t apologize to him?????????? FUCK YOU ERAQUS, YOU PIECE OF UTTER SHIT---

- the resolution with xehanort........like......it’s not bad, per se.........but like.........it’s the tiniest bit of a stretch to me. like..........oh okay, dude, you are totes fine with MURDERING ERAQUS, but now that he asks you to stand down, you do??? when the fuck did you grow a heart and start caring about eraqus??? YOU FUCKING MURDERED HIM THE LAST TIME YOU WERE TOGETHER!!!!! LIKE, IF I CAN BRING MYSELF TO IGNORE THAT DETAIL, THEN THE SCENES WITH THEM WERE TOUCHING, BUT LIKE..........YOU. MURDERED. HIM. THE LAST TIME YOU SAW HIM!!!!!!!! BUT NAHHHH, LET’S JUST CONVENIENTLY IGNORE THAT DETAIL, IT’S FIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE ://///

- namine should have had more screen time, damn it :////// also, i can’t help but feel that aqua got shafted, and wasn’t nearly as powerful a fighter as she should have been ://

- i’m.......not really satisfied with what they did with vanitas? which was basically nothing, really. there wasn’t really any kind of resolution at all. :////

- that moment when everyone was consumed by the demon tide, leaving only sora and riku left, and sora falls to his knees, and is crying and screaming about how he’s all alone, his friends are his power, without them he’s nothing...........oh man, i was RAGING.

SORA. RIKU IS RIGHT THE FUCK THERE, SO NO, YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, YOUR BOYFRIEND BEST FRIEND IS STILL HERE, SO WHAT THE FUCKING HELL ARE YOU ON ABOUT???????? LIKE, I WAS ACTUALLY SEETHING AT THIS, IT FELT SO FORCED AND CONTRIVED, AND HONESTLY OUT OF CHARACTER, BECAUSE SINCE WHEN DOES SORA GIVE UP??? ESPECIALLY WHEN HE STILL HAS RIKU??????????? AND LIKE..........EVERYTHING LEADING UP TO THIS MOMENT FELT FORCED AND CONTRIVED, OH SURE, LET’S HAVE THE MAJORITY OF US JUST.....FUCKING STAND AROUND DOING NOTHING, THAT’S COOL.

but yeah.......sora saying that he was alone? wow, i was Screaming at him so much for that one, what the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck writers. 😡😡😡

- so, onto the big one: absolutely everything to do with kairi

going into this game, she was in the top 3 of the characters i was most worried for, because i was worried that she wouldn’t be given the proper development that she’s deserved and been shafted away from for far too long. and boy was i right to be worried, bc this game, like pretty much every game that came before it, did her dirty. OH WOW LOOK, KAIRI’S A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS AGAIN! OH LOOK, SHE GETS FUCKING KILLED OFF TWICE FOR SORA’S MANPAIN!!!! AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN TRY TO FIGHT BACK AGAINST XEMNAS OR XEHANORT, DESPITE THE FACT THAT THIS WAS THE WHOLE GODDAMN POINT OF GIVING HER A KEYBLADE IN THE FIRST DAMN PLACE, AND WHY SHE GOT PUT INTO A POCKET DIMENSION WITH AXEL WHERE TIME DOESN’T EXIST SO THAT THEY COULD HAVE AS MUCH TIME AS THEY NEEDED TO BE PROPERLY TRAINED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE..........FUCKING REALLY??????????????????????????????

also, sora going off alone to save her at the end..........what the actual fuck. again, they keep trying to force sokai as being soooo important, but guess what? it’s forced and awkward and inorganic, and after the game series i’ve played? i do not fucking believe that she is the person that sora loves above all others. even though the writers had their chances, over and over and over again, to develop their relationship, to make it grow and deepen it, they never fucking did, not even in this game!!!!!! and sora has way more believable romantic chemistry with riku and namine than he’s ever had with kairi, especially riku. you know, the relationship that you ACTUALLY took the time to develop over the entire series? the relationship that you CANONICALLY had “dearly beloved”, the main theme of the entire series, become the song of their hearts? let me tell you, there’s a real cognitive dissonance, looking at the title screen art of sora with the paopu fruit from kairi, while listening to the CANONICAL soriku love song.

so this ending, where sora’s willing to leave RIKU of all ppl behind? wow, that sounds fake, but okay. also, why in the hell is riku letting sora go alone??????? why can’t they both go together? (also: eternally salty that we STILL have not ever really gotten a scene of the destiny trio having any kind of genuine friendly interaction. the closest we ever got was in twtnw in kh2, when kairi helped sora to see riku in asod’s body. yeah, you’re really selling the MAIN trio as friends, here. ://////////)

and like.................THIS is the conclusion i’ve waited ten years for??? sora abandoning all the people he loves and all the friends that he’s actually had meaningful interactions with, for the person he barely remembers as existing half the time? fucking really??

and again, this wouldn’t be so bad, if they had JUST ACTUALLY TAKEN THE TIME TO DEVELOP SOKAI AND KAIRI AS A CHARACTER!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU HAD AN ENTIRE SERIES!!!!!!!!!!! YOU HAD THIS ENTIRE GAME!!!!!!!!!!!! SORA AND KAIRI COULD HAVE BEEN TALKING ON THE PHONE AT THE VERY GODDAMN LEAST FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU COULD HAVE DONE IT, AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE WITH THIS RELATIONSHIP AND THE ENDING, BUT YOU FUCKING DIDN’T NOMURA, AND I LEGIT DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE THE FOUNDATION IS ALREADY THERE, SO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SAY “THEY’RE IN LOVE” AND HAVE IT BE BELIEVABLE, BUT YOU FUCKING DIDN’T BUILD THAT FOUNDATION AT ALL, SO INSTEAD IT JUST FALLS FLAT, AND FEELS UNBELIEVABLY FORCED, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU JUST TOSS ASIDE THE RELATIONSHIP THAT YOU ACTUALLY TOOK THE TIME TO DEVELOP LIKE IT WAS NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- no i lied, the actual worst part of this game: SORA DIDN’T FUCKING THANK NAMINE FOR REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY ACTUALLY HAD AN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF THE PROMISE, AND SORA TOLD HER THAT HE WANTED TO DO IT RIGHT, BUT THEN HE DIDN’T GET THE CHANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOMURA, YOU ARE THE WORST PERSON, YOU PROMISED US AN EMOTIONAL PAYOFF FROM THE SECOND FUCKING GAME, AND YOU STILL DIDN’T DELIVER!!!!!!!!!!!! AND EVEN IF YOU CONSIDER THE THANKING HER PART OF IT FULFILLED, THE FULL PROMISE WAS THAT THEY WERE GOING TO BE FRIENDS FOR REAL, AND THAT DEFINITELY HASN’T REALLY HAPPENED, AND I. AM. SO. FUCKING. FURIOUS. IF I EVER MEET YOU IN PERSON, I AM GOING TO BREATHE FIRE ON YOU. WHATEVER KINGDOM HEARTS GAME YOU MAKE NEXT, OR WHATEVER NEXT ARC THE SERIES HAS OR WHAT FUCKING EVER, IF SORA DOESN’T EVER GET THE CHANCE TO FULFILL HIS PROMISE TO NAMINE, I’M GOING TO MURDER YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS. 😡😡😡🔪🔪🔪🔪

okay. okay. i’m calming down from my rage. i’m breathing. onto the good! bc there was a lot of it!

The Good:

also known as, the part where i drowned in my own tears:

- the akurokushi reunion was absolutely everything i’d ever wanted it to be, it was beautiful and everything hurt 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

- the tervenaqua reunion was just as good 😭😭😭

(everyone was crying, and i was crying along with them 😭)

- so what i’m getting from the finale arc, is that namine is, once again, the true mvp of this goddamn team, and literally everyone would be lost without her. when they wound up back in time, facing terranort again, she’s the one who summoned the lingering will there to save them, AND I FUCKING LOVE HER, AND SHE DESERVED SO MUCH MORE SCREEN TIME THAN SHE GOT :/

- also, when the lingering will showed up, i was cheering so hard. lol, terra beating the shit out of his own possessed body, round two XDD

- it was a nice moment, when all the keyblades from the wielders of the past war, ending up helping out

- everything about repliku ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

- wow, luxord’s last moment hit me right in the feels, and is a perfect example of why i love him so much. fair and honorable to the end, and him saying that he’d like to meet up with sora and basically be friends as just people? pls just keep stabbing me in the heart, thanks

- marly thanking sora??? THANKS SATAN

(fuck, the majority of the true org didn’t even want to be there, and honestly, that just makes everything even sadder :////)

- larxene!!!!!!!!! man, i love her. complaining about losing to sora, but then saying that it’s not the worst that could happen, bc being a container for “that old geezer? pass.” LOVE. and then saying that she was just there for someone else, but told sora that it was her secret to keep on who it is......TELL ME, LARXENE!!!!

- XION WAS A MEMBER OF THE TRUE ORG????????? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU

- BUT HER PROTECTING AXEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSO, AXEL’S SASS AT XEMNAS WAS LIFE-AFFIRMING

- ROXAS SWOOPING IN TO SAVE HIS FRIENDS, BASICALLY EVERYTHING TO DO WITH THIS TRIO, WOW WHY WAS I GIVEN EMOTIONSSSSSSSS

- ALSO, GETTING TO TEAM UP WITH ROXAS AND XION, LOVING THIS SONG 👌👌👌

- THAT SCENE WITH AXEL AND SAIX!!!!!!!!!!! AXEL HOLDING SAIX IN HIS ARMS (WOW, THERE’S A LOT OF GAY GOING AROUND HERE), SAIX SAYING THAT HE WAS JEALOUS OF ROXAS AND XION, PROMISING TO SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN, AHHHHHHH

- WELL, I FINALLY GOT MY EXPLANATION FOR WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO TERRA’S HEART. SO, XEHANORT DID SUCCEED IN TAKING TERRA’S HEART OUT OF HIS BODY IN THAT FINAL BATTLE WITH AQUA, AND THAT DARK GUARDIAN HE HAD WAS TERRA’S HEARTLESS ALL ALONG, AND HE SAVED AQUA AND VEN AS A HEARTLESS AND CONFRONTED TERRANORT, AND SORA HELPED HIM REGAIN HIS BODY AGAIN, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS EVERYTHING IS GOOD

- i.....actually really like the conclusion they had for ansem seeker of darkness? he was actually kinda proud of riku, and i just ended up feeling sad for him.

- i fucking loved that sora called xehanort out, and told him that restarting the world wasn’t his decision to make

- ISA’S BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND HE AND AKUROKUSHI AND HAYNER, PENCE, AND OLETTE ALL GOT TO HAVE ICE CREAM TOGETHER ON THE CLOCK TOWER!!!!!!!! AND THEY ALL GOT PICKED UP TO HANG OUT IN DESTINY ISLANDS!!!!!!!!!!

- NAMINE’S RETURN, YESSSSSSSSSS BBYYYYYYYYYY (also, i do ship namiku a tiny bit, so i like the moment that they had)

- XION AND NAMINE HANGING OUT IN DESTINY ISLANDS TOGETHER!!!!

- ALSO, XION, AXEL, ISA, AND ALL THE NEW CLOTHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- well.......idk what’s up with whatever the secret ending is teasing us for, but at least sora and riku are in proximity to each other, and will be together again, i guess. the gays will prevail

okay, i think that’s it for now. i might make more posts as more thoughts come to me, but i think this is quite long enough already XDD

#kh3 spoilers #kiryn's adventures in gaming #kiryn plays kingdom hearts #kh3 #anti sokai #kh #kingdom hearts #there's quite a bit of salt #just as a warning #i'm not entirely pleased with what they did :///

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