#or at least originally it was supposed to be her for irony's sake but it ended up more loosely inspired by her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladystoneboobs · 3 years

Text

Kings are not supposed to have mothers

just some thoughts, a lot of thoughts, about catelyn/cersei (part of a later, even longer tully trout/lannister lions comparison.)

both ladies made political marriages because of events in robert's rebellion, wedding husbands they'd never met before, whom they were not originally intended for. catelyn was promised to brandon stark, the heir to winterfell, since she was 12, while cersei grew up believing she'd be a targ queen, her father telling her of his plans for a match with prince rhaegar, heir to the iron throne, when she was 6 or 7. catelyn married brandon's brother, the new lord of winterfell, and cersei married rhaegar's worst enemy, the new king on the iron throne. while catelyn grew to love her husband ned and had a relatively happy marriage, cersei had a miserable marriage to robert involving mutual hatred. she still laments that rhaegar was killed by robert on the trident.

both of their husbands were unfaithful (or claimed to be, in ned's case) and fathered at least one bastard after the wedding. ned tried to raise jon as closely to a legit stark as possible, among his and cat's own children, an insult she never got over, though she believed everything would be fine if jon lived elsewhere. robert was more of an absentee father to edric storm and the others, but that did not stop cersei from feeling insulted to the point of murder. she threatened to kill mya stone if she ever came to court, allegedly had twin babies killed after robert fathered them at casterly rock, and most likely ordered the deaths of all of robert's king's landing kids after he died. catelyn's treatment of jon snow is her biggest character flaw and her words to him in their last interaction her worst, wishing him dead or dying in place of bran, yet cersei deems her a mouse for not killing jon as a baby the first chance she got.

both ladies had a "ghost" woman between them and their husbands. in cersei's case it was lyanna, robert's first betrothed, and he was definitely still hung up on her. in catelyn's it was jon's unknown mother, widely thought to be ashara dayne, simply because she could not understand why ned wanted jon so close if not for love of his mother and he refused to even speak of her. she was right about ned loving jon’s mother “fiercely” yet very wrong about the nature of their relationship, because this ghost was actually also lyanna, the sister ned hardly spoke of, while robert did so all too readily. “life is full of these little ironies”, as tyrion would say. but ned loved his sister in a non-incest way, not the romantic passion cat believed he felt for jon’s mother. it's unknown how far ned ever actually got with ashara dayne, and most likely his wife was the love of his life.

Eddard Stark had married her in Brandon’s place, as custom decreed, but the shadow of his dead brother still lay between them, as did the other, the shadow of the woman he would not name, the woman who had borne him his bastard son.

[....] Whoever Jon's mother had been, Ned must have loved her fiercely, for nothing Catelyn said would persuade him to send the boy away. -Catelyn II, aGoT

[Cersei, to Jaime:]”My husband grows more restless every day. Having Stark beside him will only make him worse. He's still in love with the sister, the insipid little dead sixteen-year-old. How long till he decides to put me aside for some new Lyanna?" -Bran II, aGoT

both ladies become widows before the end of the first book. cersei had her abuser, robert, murdered and felt joy at his death. catelyn played only an indirect role in ned's downfall by convincing him to go south in the first place, yet she still blamed herself because she loved her husband and felt deep grief at his death.

Ned had the truth of it, she thought. His place was at Winterfell, he said as much, but would I hear him? No. Go, I told him, you must be Robert's Hand, for the good of our House, for the sake of our children . . . my doing, mine, no other . . .

[....] Catelyn had not eaten today. [....] but the truth was that food had lost its savor in a world without Ned. -Catelyn I & IV, aCoK

[Cersei, to Tyrion:]"All we did was help. When Lancel saw that Robert was going after boar, he gave him strongwine. His favorite sour red, but fortified, three times as potent as he was used to. The great stinking fool loved it. He could have stopped swilling it down anytime he cared to, but no, he drained one skin and told Lancel to fetch another. The boar did the rest. You should have been at the feast, Tyrion. There has never been a boar so delicious. They cooked it with mushrooms and apples, and it tasted like triumph." -Tyrion I, aCoK

both ladies' eldest sons became rulers on their fathers’ deaths when they were still boys, and the ladies tried to advise them. ned wanted cat to act in this role at robb's side as soon as he left winterfell because of his trust in her. otoh, robert dreaded the idea of cersei ruling at joffrey's side. cat tried to advise robb without undermining him once they reunited at the start of the war, but cersei wanted to rule through her sons and keep all the power she could for herself, especially after her younger son inherited joff's titles.

[Ned, to Cat:]"You must govern the north in my stead, while I run Robert's errands. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. Robb is fourteen. Soon enough, he will be a man grown. He must learn to rule, and I will not be here for him. Make him part of your councils. He must be ready when his time comes."

He[Robb] was playing a man's part now, and she would not take that away from him. -Catelyn II & VIII, aGoT

[Robert, to Ned:]"More than once, I have dreamed of giving up the crown. [....] You know what stops me? The thought of Joffrey on the throne, with Cersei standing behind him whispering in his ear." -Eddard VII, aGoT

The rule was hers; Cersei did not mean to give it up until Tommen came of age. -Cersei V, aFfC

both of the said sons were kings by the end of the first book. robb was acclaimed king by his men while joffrey inherited robert's crown, which means catelyn was not a queen like cersei, but she still had prestige and some power in robb's court. in both cases, the sons' new royal powers caused conflict in their relationships with their mothers, though catelyn/robb always had a better and healthier relationship than cersei had with her sons.

She had told him as much before, but Catelyn was finding that kings do not listen half so attentively as sons. -Catelyn I, aCoK

[Cersei, to Tyrion:]"Joff has had no lack of good counsel. He's always been strong-willed. Now that he's king, he believes he should do as he pleases, not as he's bid." -Tyrion I, aCoK

both mothers were not happy about the idea of their sons in battles, but catelyn accepted the necessity and was proud of robb's victories. cersei did not want her sons in any possible danger, to the detriment of the war effort and royal reputation, threatening tyrion (by proxy) to keep joff out of the front lines, then pulling him out of the battle near the end when it would have been too late to hide from the enemy anyway. later, she refused to even let tommen train to be a knight with his own brother-in-law.

both mothers lost their royal firstborn son at a wedding feast, murdered before their eyes as they were helpless to intervene. robb’s murder was no mystery, but the frey cat killed in revenge was one she knew to be innocent. she’s killed too shortly after, only to rise from the dead and go on a killing spree of (mostly guilty) freys, later progressing to an attempted hanging of brienne and podrick for their mere association with house lannister. joffrey was poisoned, with the true culprit hidden. cersei accused an innocent man (her own brother tyrion) she genuinely believed was the killer, but her efforts to have him killed all failed. afterward, she is responsible for the indiscriminate killing of dwarfs (and at least one child) in her zeal to find tyrion, not caring how many innocent lives are cost in the hunt.

both mothers had a daughter in the custody of their enemies. however, catelyn initially wanted the sansa/joff match and at the time the king was their ally and friend. otoh, the martells had hated the lannisters for years and tyrion betrothed myrcella behind cersei's back. despite the family history, myrcella gets along with her betrothed, but joff revealed his shittiness even before his family was at war with sansa's.

both mothers disapproved of their kingly sons’ betrothal-breaking, though with quite different reasoning. catelyn did not want to risk offending walder frey in an exchange for a bride from a minor enemy house which brought much less men to the war effort, but would have felt differently if the freys were jilted for political/military gain. cersei wanted to keep the betrothal to sansa because she viewed her as less of a threat, despite the obvious facts that the tyrell alliance made better political sense and the lannisters desperately needed the tyrells’ military aid. in spite of her misgivings about robb’s marriage, cat tried to mentor her daughter-in-law as a new queen and newest member of the stark family. otoh, cersei, after abusing sansa as her first prospective daughter-in-law, went on to have her son(s)’ eventual queen framed for treason and arrested, acting out of paranoia and jealousy, no matter her son’s feelings or the importance of the tyrell alliance.

If you had to fall into a woman's arms, my son, why couldn't they have been Margaery Tyrell's? The wealth and power of Highgarden could have made all the difference in the fighting yet to come. And perhaps Grey Wind would have liked the smell of her as well.

[...]she thought about Jeyne. The girl did seem to have a good heart, just as Robb had said. And good hips, which might be more important. -Catelyn II & III, aSoS

[Tyrion, to the small council:]"It seems to me we should take a lesson from the late Lord Renly. We can win the Tyrell alliance as he did. With a marriage."

[....] "Joffrey is betrothed to Sansa Stark," Cersei objected.

[Tyrion:]"Marriage contracts can be broken. What advantage is there in wedding the king to the daughter of a dead traitor?" -Tyrion VIII, aCoK

[Cersei, to Margaery:]"You wrong me, daughter. All I want—"

[Margaery:]"—is your son, all for yourself. He will never have a wife that you don't hate. And I am not your daughter, thank the gods. [....] I asked for you to leave. Will you make me call my gaolers and have you dragged away, you vile, scheming, evil bitch?" -Cersei X, aFfC

despite her continued hatred of jaime/cersei, catelyn has some understanding for the choice to murder for the sake of one's children. in fact, her last living act is murdering an innocent man out of revenge for robb, "a son for a son".

If the boy was truly Jaime's seed, Robert would have put him to death along with his mother, and few would have condemned him. [....] Ned must have known, and Lord Arryn before him. Small wonder that the queen had killed them both. Would I do any less for my own? -Catelyn IV, aCoK

catelyn fantasized about killing cersei herself, and about seeing all her enemies dead after bran and rickon's presumed deaths. and cersei fantasized about destroying all her enemies all the time. (but catelyn let jaime go in an attempt to trade for her daughters, while cersei failed to keep ned alive long enough to trade for jaime.)

[Catelyn, to Brienne]"Every morning, when I wake, I remember that Ned is gone. I have no skill with swords, but that does not mean that I do not dream of riding to King's Landing and wrapping my hands around Cersei Lannister's white throat and squeezing until her face turns black.

[....] I want them all dead, Brienne. Theon Greyjoy first, then Jaime Lannister and Cersei and the Imp, every one, every one. -Catelyn V & VII, aCoK

Cersei thought of all the King's Hands that she had known through the years: Owen Merryweather, Jon Connington, Qarlton Chelsted, Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark, her brother Tyrion. And her father, Lord Tywin Lannister, her father most of all. All of them are burning now, she told herself, savoring the thought. They are dead and burning, every one, with all their plots and schemes and betrayals. -Cersei III, aFfC

cersei wanted to fight like jaime from an early age, while catelyn “had no love for swords” and only once thought of fighting like the mormonts out of a wish to save her family. (interestingly, cat is the one who killed an enemy in a skirmish and later incapacitated a knight to save brienne, while cersei kills indirectly with her only possible direct kill being a harmless childhood friend.)

[Cersei, to Sansa:] "Would that I could take a sword to their necks myself. When we were little, Jaime and I were so much alike that even our lord father could not tell us apart. [....] Yet even so, when Jaime was given his first sword, there was none for me. 'What do I get?' I remember asking. -Sansa VI, aCoK

All lost now, she reflected. Winterfell and Ned, Bran and Rickon, Sansa, Arya, all gone. Only Robb remains. Had there been too much of Lynesse Hightower in her after all, and too little of the Starks? Would that I had known how to wield an axe, perhaps I might have been able to protect them better. -Catelyn V, aSoS

both ladies are viewed as cold-hearted by their royal-rebel wards, though, as always, cersei treated her hostage worse. (theon admits he never really hated the starks, only wanting to be one of them, but sansa went from admiring to loathing cersei.) both ladies later wished these former hostages dead as revenge for their sons, though both cases involve misunderstandings of different natures. (theon is a murderer but bran and rickon were not his murder victims, while sansa did play an indirect part in joffrey’s poisoning but it was an unconscious and unintentional part.)

As a boy, he had lived in fear of Stark's stern face and great dark sword. His wife was, if anything, even more distant and suspicious. -Theon I, aCoK

[Cat, to Brienne:]"Bran and Rickon tried to escape, but were taken at a mill on the Acorn Water. Theon Greyjoy has mounted their heads on the walls of Winterfell. Theon Greyjoy, who ate at my table since he was a boy of ten."

[Cat, to Robb]"So long as Theon Greyjoy sits in your father's seat with your brothers' blood on his hands, these other foes must wait," Catelyn told her son. "Your first duty is to defend your own people, win back Winterfell, and hang Theon in a crow's cage to die slowly.[....]” -Catelyn VII, aCoK & II, aSoS

[Sansa, to Olenna:]"Joffrey is a monster. [....] He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well." -Sansa I, aSoS

[Cersei, to Pycelle:]"I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son. When we find the Imp, we will find the Lady Sansa too. She is not dead . . . but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss." -Cersei IV, aFfC

both ladies were at one time heiresses to their fathers, catelyn in early childhood before edmure was born, and cersei after tyrion murdered tywin. catelyn was always trusted by her father and was closer to him than edmure was, while cersei knew jaime was tywin's favorite and always resented it. perhaps because of this difference, cat supported edmure even when she didn't have much confidence in him, while cersei seduced jaime to give up his inheritance.

Perhaps that was why her lord father had always cherished her best of all his children. Her two older brothers had both died in infancy, so she had been son as well as daughter to Lord Hoster until Edmure was born. -Catelyn VI, aCoK

[Cersei, to Jaime:]"[....]I could have been the heir he wanted, but I lacked the cock.” -Jaime IX, aSoS

both ladies lost their mothers young due to death in childbirth, and could not imagine their fathers having sex after their mothers’ deaths. though cersei ignores a dead sexual partner right in front of her, while cat accepted the truth of hoster’s actual secret, lysa’s forced abortion.

Father, who was this woman, and what did you do to her that needs so much forgiveness? -Catelyn I, aSoS

[Cersei, to Kevan:]"He[Tywin] loved her[Joanna] very much." Cersei refused to think about the dead whore in his bed.-Cersei II, aFfC

both ladies are confused with their dead mothers by a beloved relative. (jaime does so in the opposite way mistaking his dead mother for his sister in a dream about joanna, but i wouldn't rule out the possibility it was a genuine vision.)

[Cat, to Brynden, about Hoster:]"[....]Once he called me by Mother's name."

[Brynden, to Cat:]"[....]You have her face. I can see it in your cheekbones, and your jaw . . . " -Catelyn I, aCoK

both ladies had an important relationship with a paternal uncle, but in very different ways. for catelyn, this was brynden the blackfish, who never got along with her beloved father, hoster, but that did not keep cat or her siblings from being close to him. uncle brynden was close to all his brother’s offspring, but he and cat seemed especially close, with him saying “the right woman” can rule meaning her (and not lysa), and never criticizing her the way he did edmure after his “folly of the fords”. the blackfish was the only one whose support cat could count on after her release of jaime, when she feared even robb’s rejection after edmure had lectured her about it. otoh, uncle kevan was tywin’s most loyal supporter and closest confidante, which seems to only make cersei and her brothers respect him less, thinking him a yes-man with no mind of his own. this leads cersei to take his support for granted after tywin’s death, when kevan made it clear he had no wish to stay in court under cersei’s rule and that his blind love for tywin did not translate to the same feelings towards tywin’s children. when cersei also found herself in isolation due to her ill-thought out choices, under arrest by the faith militant, kevan again refused to support her and actually agreed with the walk of shame she is forced to endure.

It was the moment she had dreamt of and dreaded. Have I lost two sons, or three? She would know soon enough.

The hall was crowded when they entered. Every eye was on the dais, but Catelyn knew their backs: [....] . . . Half of them will want to hang me now. The other half may only turn their eyes away. [...]

The sight of Ser Brynden Tully's craggy face on the dais gave her comfort. [...]

Her uncle was the first to greet her. As black a fish as ever, Ser Brynden had no care for what others might think. He leapt off the dais and pulled Catelyn into his arms. -Catelyn II, aSoS

Cersei was soiled goods now, her power at an end. Every baker's boy and beggar in the city had seen her in her shame and every tart and tanner from Flea Bottom to Pisswater Bend had gazed upon her nakedness, their eager eyes crawling over her breasts and belly and woman's parts. [....] "My niece will make no further mischief," he promised Mace Tyrell. "You have my word on that, my lord."

[...]His niece had been subdued and submissive since her walk of atonement, thank the gods. [....] She will never wash the stain away, no matter how hard she scrubs.

[...]"It had to be," Ser Kevan muttered over the last of his wine. His High Holiness had to be appeased. Tommen needed the Faith behind him in the battles to come. And Cersei ... the golden child had grown into a vain, foolish, greedy woman. -Epilogue (Kevan), aDwD

both ladies can be said to follow their father's political examples. cersei does so quite deliberately in both power/control and general shittiness, hoping to even outshine tywin. while cat follows her father's footsteps in matchmaking and diplomacy (trying to mediate between stannis/renly as her father mediated the blackwood/bracken disputes) to advance the family cause, without thinking of emulating him. likewise, catelyn thinks of the (positive) similarity with ned while accepting brienne's loyalty, and by contrast, cersei unknowingly takes after her husband (negatively) with alcoholism, abuse, and irresponsible rulership.

related to the above, catelyn's classism and sense of propriety, displayed in her attitude to jon snow, was surely learned from hoster, given his reaction to lysa's first pregnancy. just as all of cersei's even deeper prejudices, from classism to ableism to misogyny, came straight from tywin.

oh, and how could i forget? both ladies falsely accused tyrion of trying to murder their son, and in both cases tyrion had been framed by littlefinger. catelyn came to have doubts after talking to tyrion and tried to keep him safe and alive once they joined lysa and she took control. cersei’s belief in tyrion’s guilt never wavered and she tried several different ways to have him killed.

#asoiaf meta #valyrianscrolls #cersei lannister #catelyn tully #catelyn stark #long post #wordy word words #this is v long but just part of larger thoughtvomit #about all the tullys and their lannister counterparts #(c)lsb #give me cersei lannister

63 notes · View notes

thesoulspulse · 3 years

Text

When Blue Eyes Meet (Good Vlad AU ~ Oneshot)

Summary: I couldn't sleep and got this beautifully heartfelt idea in my head about how my Good Vlad met his cat Madison for the first time and how she helped turn his life around. It's about she adopted him, sensing how bad Vlad needed a friend after Jack and Maddie moved on with their lives until they finally meet again at their college reunion. Warning, this mentions character death.

Vlad's POV

I'll never forget that day, the day I met a very special little lady.

I had only been fully discharged from the hospital for a few weeks but...after I insisted on making sure Jack and Maddie could move on with their own lives without me since I wouldn't drag them down, but once returned home I was suddenly reminded of how alone in the world I really was now. Both my parents had passed away before I started my freshman year of college but they left me with everything I would need to secure a bright future, even the house which gave me a place to return to in the first place since we had no idea the accident would result in me being bedridden for several years.

But as soon as I stepped inside the house, just like my heart it felt so...hollow.

The warmth I used to feel there was long gone, and it had nothing to do with still needing to pay the heating bill. And I suppose it's fortunate that the money I had set aside to pay for my school supplies and my half of the rent was enough to pay for my hospital bills so I had just enough left over to invest in gaining a new lease on life after the accident. It would take time, but I was confident I would be able to go back and continue my studies eventually, but for now I need to focus on figuring out how to cope with the other huge transformation I had undergone.

I almost had to laugh at the irony because perhaps I'm only living a half-life since the accident turned me half-ghost. It was difficult at first, hiding the truth about my condition not only from Jack and Maddie, but the nurses and doctors as well. Thankfully, I inherited my father's sharp wits and managed to conceal my powers fairly well. As for the rest, it was just easier to let people assume they were only seeing things whenever they saw a strange light or my hand seemed to pass through solid objects. After all, who would ever believe that a human with ghost powers could possibly exist...?

Still, I suppose one good thing about returning to that house is that it was nice to finally be able to relax somewhat knowing I wouldn't need to hide my powers from anyone, or at least not nearly as often when I was still a patient. I would still have to be careful if someone came to visit me, but honestly the odds of that happening ere highly unlikely. I say this because I have no living relatives left. No parents, no cousins or siblings, just me.

Sighing I set down my bags and started unpacking boxes. I needed something else to occupy my thoughts because I still hadn't quite gotten over the fact that I lost my scholarship. Realistically I knew that couldn't be helped given what happened to me so instead I turned my attention to the things I still could control, such as ensuring I still had a place to live since I was no longer a student and Jack wasn't my roommate anymore.

Speaking of which, right from the start I wanted make sure to avoid living somewhere with too many people around so although my original plan was to move back here after graduation I made the decision to return to this town ahead of schedule in light of my extenuating circumstances.

There were still faint traces of my old life here back from when my parents were still alive such as my father's desk and my mother's cooking supplies. And quite honestly, being back here and suddenly feeling their absence all over again...it made me sad. I missed them, just as much I miss Jack and Maddie but I had to start moving on too. So I shook my head, turned our old record player, and kept myself busy by unpacking my belongings.

Luckily I had everything I owned in the dorm moved here after it became painfully clear I wouldn't be able to attend classes anymore due to my critical condition. Jack and Maddie offered to do it for me personally but I declined their kind off because for one thing I didn't want them to find out where I live before I had enough time to gain full control of my powers, and for another I wanted to make a clean break for their sake...

I was dangerous to be around whether I liked it or not so exposing them to danger while my powers were still a bit difficult to control was not a risk I was willing to take. Especially since those two are all I had left and someday...I really hoped I'd be able to meet them again and tell them the truth about my powers. But until then, all I could do was try my best to start over and hope for the best.

Once I settled in, I began testing out my powers more, taking notes, pushing my limits, and yet the more I learned about myself the more I wished I had someone to share my discoveries with. Jack could be overzealous at times, but I missed how excited we both felt after making a new discovery about ghosts or ectoplasmic energy. And Maddie, she always knew how to reign us in so we could look at things more objectively even though she was usually just as eager to find out more too.

Having no one left to talk to or come home to had finally started to get to me and sadly as a result that's when the nightmares started up again too. Just like back in the hospital I would wake up in a cold sweat, clutching the sheets in both fists as the ghostly blue glow of my eyes cast flickering shadows on the walls. I had gotten careless because I thought I would be alright as long as I didn't have to worry about a doctor or a nurse walking in at any second and seeing my eyes glowing in the darkness.

That's when I realized I had to do something about this before things escalated even further and my emotions spiraled out of control again without some sort of outlet. I needed to make a connection, a way to overcome this shadow looming over me, so I considered seeing a therapist to prevent these nightmares from overtaking me. But I was afraid that if I did talk to someone...what if I became too emotional and exposed my powers to them? That could be a huge problem. I could always overshadow them, but I'd still be avoiding dealing with this terrible helplessness I felt.

That day, I was wandering around town in a daze, conflicted about how to deal with the problem when I happened to enter a local animal shelter. The people at the front desk were friendly, but I had never considered how my...ghostly attributes might make most animals wary of me since they have a sixth sense for the supernatural which quite honestly made me feel even more detached from the person I once was. As a boy I got along well with most animals but I never felt particularly attached to them. Dogs were a bit too energetic for my tastes and I had to deal with that enough with Jack but cats on the other hand, well I have always appreciated their independent spirit but I never considered them to be very affectionate animals...

That all changed the instant I saw her.

On my way out the door after satisfying my idle curiosity about how animals seem to perceive me now that I'm only half human I noticed this sleek black kitten staring directly at me with the most stunning blue eyes I've ever seen and when our eyes met, what I felt...I can't even describe it. It felt as though she was looking right at me, into my heart, and for the first time since the accident, it was like someone had noticed how lost I was and there was this unmistakable look of gentle sympathy in her eyes.

Mesmerized by her gaze, I turned around and asked the person at the desk more about her and they told me she had been abandoned which I could relate to to some degree. To be fair I hadn't been abandoned necessarily, but I felt that way sometimes since it was gradually becoming harder and harder to wake up alone in that empty house every morning, not sure what I should be doing with the rest of my life now that I'm all alone and don't have friends to confide in anymore I can visit whenever I want.

Impulsively I asked if I could hold her and they agreed, smiling at me secretively as if they already knew I felt an instant attachment to her and as soon as they handed her to me...she clung to me like her life depended on it and then crawled up onto my shoulders, wrapping her tiny body around my neck as much as possible and as soon as she was comfortable she started purring. It was like a hug of sorts and I had no idea how starved for the gentle contact from another living creature of any kind from someone that wasn't just another doctor poking and prodding me that all I remember is falling to my knees soon after, sobbing and resting my cheek against her head as she rubbed against me, licking away my tears.

Finally, I thought, this is what I've been searching for ever since I came home. I've missed having someone there who cares about me, someone to remind me that I'm not alone, someone who can stay by my side so I don't have to suffer in silence anymore without a friend there to comfort me just when I start to think I can't bear it anymore.

I'm sure everyone who saw me that day were just as stunned as I was by my meltdown, but I didn't care. I needed her. And she needed me, no, for reasons I cannot even begin to fathom she WANTED to be with me and no one else. It's like she had been waiting for me to walk in that door from the very start. Waiting for me to give her a home, a family, and most importantly...a name. And that name would become a bond that could never be broken, not even after her tragic death some years later when she returned to my side once more as a ghost because she knew I still desperately needed a friend-

And that's how Madison became my closest and dearest companion.

We’ve been inseparable ever since.

45 notes · View notes

whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years

Text

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

178 notes · View notes

nomazee · 4 years

Note

saw you responded to my prompt idea (Heather) and I'm really sorry for not including a specific character the first time! i did send in a second ask as a follow up. but ushijima pls

Starting Over

(original ask: hi there 😎 hope you're doing well!! just dropping by to suggest a prompt idea!! IM THINKING; Heather by Conan Gray? There's flirty banter going on w/ u 2, and you think the feelings are mutual.. but then there's someone else in the picture. He's giving them all of his attention and you're kinda pushed to the side. Angst pls ): hurt my feelings but then hold my hand after. fluff maybe)

ushijima x reader; tendou & reader

word count: 3000+

content: unrequited crush, angst, loneliness, personal development

(thank you so so so much for this request!! don’t worry about forgetting to add the character, it’s completely alright!! i sort of strayed from the prompt a bit but i tried to maintain the primary concept as best as i could. i enjoyed writing this a lot and i hope you enjoy this!!

also just a fun fact--i was absolutely prepared to make the reader and wakatoshi’s gf fall in love with each other and elope and i’m very close to rewriting this and making it go down that route 😃

ALSO-ALSO—i have a multi-part series in the works right now (by “in the works” i mean BARE BONES PLANS) and im gonna share some details + a sneak peak soon!!! i’m kind of excited cause it’s gonna be the first long multipart series i’m gonna make, so i hope you guys are excited about it too!!

thank you all so much for the support recently, every like and commment and follower i receive motivates me so much and i love u all to bits <3

happy reading!!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

Wakatoshi is not a romantic. You know that best out of anyone—knowing the boy for years gives you a decent awareness of what type of person he is. He doesn’t have much of an interest in things that aren’t volleyball. Even his friends are scarce, limited to you and Tendou and some of the other third-years on the volleyball team. It’s not like he’s lonely—he’s reserved by nature and choice, never really expanding his social circle and putting his energy into extra practices rather than nights out.

You suppose that’s why you get along so well with him. You also suppose that’s why it was a shock to hear that Wakatoshi accepted someone’s confession.

You were no stranger to hearing about these confessions—not because Wakatoshi tells you about them, but because you’re often the one who has to act as the messenger between the confessors of the week and Wakatoshi himself. It’s a bit draining, frankly, to be looked at as a tool to get closer to the ace, but you put up with it because at least you still have him.

Her name is Hana, and she was one of the very few people who confessed to Wakatoshi personally.

He told you the details while walking you to your dorm, and you were a little suspicious of how in-depth he seemed to go about the event. He was interested, you deduced, and in the moment you forced yourself to shove down the ball that rose white-hot in your throat.

“She invited me to dinner on Sunday. Her family owns a restaurant. She said she’ll make me my favorite.”

Oh, you think, I’ve made his favorite plenty of times—you cut that thought off in fear of sounding bitter over losing someone who was never really yours.

“So you’re going, then?”

It’s silent. You stare intently at the way your feet step against the concrete. At the persistent lull in the conversation, you glance up to Wakatoshi.

His cheeks are red, and his gaze is trained pointedly away from you.

He’s blushing, you realize. He’s blushing because he’s embarrassed, embarrassed that now he has someone he’s interested in.

You know you should be happy, and the robotic voice in your head chants, “That’s cute! That’s great!” But you know yourself a little better than that, and decide that you aren’t the happiest with this epiphany.

But you’ll sure as hell make it seem like you are, for Wakatoshi’s sake and Hana’s, too.

You give a smile, one without crinkles at the corners of your eyes, and elbow him playfully. “That’s cute, Toshi. I’m surprised you found someone you’re interested in, but I’m really happy for you.”

He’s smiling, now, and it’s a gentle smile you rarely see form in your presence. As you wave goodbye to him at the steps of your dorm building, you wonder if you’ll have to stop calling him Toshi in fear of upsetting Hana.

---

You’re getting ahead of yourself, you think in the days following Wakatoshi’s unintentional admission of feelings. He’s just trying out a date for once. It’s not like you’re going to lose him immediately.

For the remainder of the week, Wakatoshi still walks you to your dorm after practice (you stay in the library until he’s done), and still lets you sit with him at lunch. By Friday, you make an excuse to avoid the cafeteria (read: avoid him, but you don’t tell him that) and tell him not to wait for you after practice.

You text him on Sunday asking him to tell you how the date goes. He responds with, “It was very fun. I really like her :)” and you feel your heart crack under the strain of your unrequited feelings. But you suck it up, like a good friend, you think, and tell him “that’s great!! i’m so happy for you :)”

On Monday, you go back to sitting with Wakatoshi at lunch. When you smile and place your bento box on the table, he waves awkwardly and blinks at you.

Oh, you think, yet again. Maybe I shouldn’t be sitting here.

You feel a stifling lack of familiarity in the air, and it pains you to admit it. You nod back at Wakatoshi, then blink at your lunch tray, feeling too awkward to even open it up and start eating.

He doesn’t say anything. You uncharacteristically take the initiative.

“So… your date,” you begin. “Did you like it?”

His eyelids flutter yet again, and a fond smile crosses his features. “Yes, I did. Her restaurant is very nice, and so is her family. The hayashi rice was very good. She wants to go out again this weekend.”

“You’re going again?” It’s rhetorical. You know the answer already. He nods, and goes back to eating his lunch. A few minutes pass by, and you still can’t find the strength to pick at your bento.

Just as you open your mouth again to babble about a random topic to fill the silence, Wakatoshi’s head darts up and his eyes focus on something behind you. You twist around to see what it is, but a cold feeling in your veins tells you you already know.

She’s pretty, you think as she waves at you and Toshi and takes a seat next to him. Really pretty, actually.

And an angel. She greets you politely, with a wide smile that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle. Her hands are soft and she has pastel yellow acrylics on her nails. “Hi! I’m Hana, it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

The question sends another wave of cold electricity through your system, and you feel like crying at the realization that Wakatoshi probably didn’t even talk about you. He probably never talks about you, you think, because there’s just not much to talk about when it comes to you.

You give a smile. Your eyes don’t crinkle. “[Y/N],” you tell her. “I’m Ushijima’s friend.”

Maybe the use of his family name is a bit petty, but you convince yourself that you’re just trying to make yourself distant, trying to make yourself appear as less of a threat to Hana. You think it’s natural that she might get antsy about another girl being in Wakatoshi’s life, but then think that she’s probably too kind to ever get jealous or upset. It only makes your heart ache more.

You see the subtlest flinch from Wakatoshi at the use of his surname, but you assume he doesn’t really care much. Him and Hana start talking casually, and tears prick behind your eyes as Hana does her best to involve you in the conversation. She’s so nice, so so nice, and it isn’t fair for you to be so bitter.

“I have to go study in the library now,” you tell them, picking up your untouched bento box from the table and standing up. “But it was really nice meeting you, Hana.” She smiles again, glossy lips and pearly teeth before Wakatoshi interrupts you.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving early?”

You pause, and think of the irony of that—he didn’t tell you Hana was sitting with him, otherwise you would’ve left them alone in the first place. But you brush it off, and maintain your smile. “Yeah, I guess I forgot.” You huff a humorless laugh. “But I’ll see you guys later.”

You don't end up going to the library, instead settling for the nurse’s office. She’s nice, you think, nice enough to let you get away with a stomachache and sitting out of class for the remainder of the day.

When you’re dismissed, you habitually wait for Wakatoshi at the side door of the school building. It’s a Monday, and he doesn’t have practice, so he’d be able to walk you back to your dorm rather than making you wait in the library.

It’s a fruitless effort, and you hit yourself for not anticipating it earlier—maybe if you did , you would’ve been at your dorm already. If you did, you wouldn’t wait for twenty minutes with the empty hope that Wakatoshi would still walk you home. If you did, you wouldn’t have to watch them pass down the sidewalk together, his team jacket draped over Hana as they talked with each other, hands interlocked and smiles persistent.

As you blink away tears and walk away from the scene, you think that Hana must really be someone special, to break down Wakatoshi’s walls so quickly and make him be so familiar with her in a matter of days.

Either that, or you were never anything special. Just complacent with the relationship you had with the boy, which you think was only formulated out of the coincidence of growing up together.

You try not to let the thoughts get to you, but after a heartbreak it’s a little difficult to think positively about yourself. You settle for taking a nap once you get to your dorm, and hope that the school’s library is open during lunch tomorrow.

---

Thankfully, it is, and you wordlessly leave Hana and Wakatoshi to their own devices during lunch. He doesn’t question it, doesn’t text you, doesn’t ask you after lunch or during class about it. When you dismiss, you don’t wait for him to walk you to your dorm, and for the second time, you’re left walking alone. It’s a little nerve-wracking, having such a sudden change in your routine, and you’re starting to regret not expanding your social circle. If you did, you’d have someone to talk to at lunch, someone to walk with after dismissal, someone to hang out with during the weekends, another contact in your phone that wasn’t just your parents and Wakatoshi.

The week ends. Wakatoshi never texts you, never asks you if you’re okay or questions why you’re so distant. It’s simultaneously painful and relieving—knowing that your presence could so easily be deducted from his life made you rethink a lot of things, but at the same time you think his lack of action makes it easier for you to deal with it.

During lunch on Monday, you’re alone in the library. Until you’re not.

Red flashes by your vision until you can properly process the form of a boy sitting across from you, chin resting in his palm as he looks at you curiously, a teasing expression on his face.

It’s Tendou—you know him fairly well. You can’t consider him a friend just yet, but you’re somewhat close to him, what with both of you being friends with Wakatoshi.

You blink at him, and cock your head to the side. He follows suit. He’s interesting, you think.

“Hi, Tendou.” You greet. “What are you doing here?”

He narrows his eyes at the stiff greeting, and the arm supporting his head drops to the table. A smile peeks through his features, and while his eyes don’t crinkle you can still tell it’s genuine and friendly.

“Just wanted to say hi. I didn’t see you in the cafeteria with Wakatoshi like you usually are. Actually, I haven’t seen you there for a while now. It took me some time to find out where you go, but I’m here now!”

You don’t know how to respond to that, so you settle for a blank stare. He huffs in mock annoyance, and throws his head back with a groan that nearly alerts the librarian.

“Aren’t you happy? Now you can stop moping around and hang out instead.” A pause, then, “So what’s up with you and Toshi? Why don’t you sit with him anymore?”

So this is a therapy session, you think sardonically. Alright, sure. I guess I can tell him.

“He has a girlfriend.” You wince at how sad the words sound coming out of your mouth, and quickly try to defend your tone. “Which is a good thing! I’m not upset—” oh yeah, definitely not, “—but I wanted to leave them alone, so they can hang out. I don't want to get in their way.”

Tendou doesn't respond immediately, instead settling for tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in suspicion. You’re sure he already knows the real reason, but give up on trying to clarify yourself any further.

He gives a wordless hum, eyes darting to the bento box you’d set aside at the beginning of the period. “You’re not eating.” It’s not a question, more of an observation, and you tense up. Tendou isn’t a threat, you know that, but his hyper-awareness of everything and everyone around him intimidates you greatly.

“Not hungry,” you respond, avoiding his scrutinizing gaze. “I eat breakfast, and I don’t normally get hungry until the afternoon.”

“It is the afternoon.” Technically, he’s not wrong. It’s almost 1:30. Regardless, you huff at his technicalities and remain silent.

His gaze is still locked on you. You wonder what he’s still here for, and jokingly tell yourself he’s going to give you a letter and ask you to give it to Wakatoshi like everyone else does.

“You don’t have to stay alone just ‘cause Toshi got a girlfriend.” He’s blunt in his words, which you detest and appreciate at the same time. “He’s not your whole life—doesn’t have to be. You’ve got me now. I’m your new friend, Tendou Satori!” By the end of his spiel, he’s back to his playful self, tone turning childish as he strikes a pose and winks at you.

You make an agreement (more like, he makes a proposition and forces you to comply) to wait for him in the library after school and let him walk you to your dorm. As he leads you to the building, chatting loudly and making you laugh harder than you have in weeks, a strong resolve plants itself in your head.

You have a new friend, and his name is Tendou Satori.

---

For the next week and a half, Tendou is complacent with your dismissive attitude regarding Wakatoshi and indulges you in mindless activities to distract you from any stresses. During the weekend, he takes you out to the mall, buys you boba, and forces you to try on clothes of his choice with the promise that you can do the same to him. While you both giggle in front of the mirror of the dressing room, he pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of you and him in the mirror, and posts it on his Snapchat. You don’t think much of that. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while, and even before then you don’t remember enjoying your time with Wakatoshi as much.

That epiphany makes you hurt a bit, but then you feel Tendou grasp your wrist and lead you off somewhere and things are better. Things are a lot better, really, until a new week approaches and Wakatoshi texts you for the first time in nearly a month.

You hung out with Tendou?

You blink. It’s an interesting way to start a conversation. You suppose Wakatoshi’s not one for formalities, and conclude that he must’ve seen Tendou’s post. Frankly, you’re a bit insulted that Wakatoshi seems shocked at the concept that you can make friends on your own, but you brush it off and text him back.

yeah!! we started talking a while ago. he’s cool.

Are you mad at me?

You don’t know what to think of his question. You don’t know where it came from, or how to respond. Discerning his tone of voice is a bit difficult over text, even more so than it is in person. Nevertheless, you answer honestly.

no? not really? why are you asking?

It takes him a while to respond, and your anxiety grows with each passing second.

You haven't talked to me recently. You don’t eat lunch in the cafeteria anymore. Did I do something wrong?

You don’t know how to explain it to him—don’t really have the energy to go on a rant about how you were avoiding him for your sake, his sake, and his girlfriend’s sake, how you had feelings for him for years and he never noticed and how it was kind of a dick move to be upset over you avoiding him for a month and not even bothering to approach you about it in the first week you started going to the library or the nurse during lunch and walking to the dorms alone.

You settle, once again, for something simpler.

don’t worry about it :) i wasn't avoiding you, but i wanted to give you and hana time alone, so that i didn’t bother you.

Are you and Tendou dating?

You’re sure you’re going to get whiplash from this conversation. You let out a breathy chuckle and tap away on your phone.

no, ushijima, we’re just friends

Oh. Okay

Would you like to sit with me and Hana at lunch tomorrow?

You read the text, then reread it, and lean back in your chair with a sigh. You’re not sure that Wakatoshi knows what he’s doing, but you still appreciate the intended kindness behind the words. You straighten out your posture, look at the blinking line in the message box, and turn your phone off.

The library doors open, and Tendou bounds through with a cute little hop, immediately going to your usual table with a smile.

“Ready to go?” He asks. You check the time—it’s nearly half past six. Tendou notices and apologizes.

“Sorry for making you wait so long. Practice ran a little longer than usual and I didn’t get the chance to text you about it. Wakatoshi was kind of out of it, so Coach made us all suffer the consequences.” He coupled his statements with a laugh, and it eased the unpleasant feeling that arose with his last sentence. His thin fingers wrapped around your wrist carefully, and he tugged you out of your seat to lead you back home.

Wakatoshi left a bit of an empty gap in your life. And you knew that you’d still be reminded of him often and that pain in your chest will return sometimes. The doubt of your previous friendship and the personal guilt of not trying to get closer to him sooner would still linger for a while. But Tendou Satori was a good distraction, and a great friend.

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #wakatoshi ushijima #ushijima #wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #tendou satori #tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader

331 notes · View notes

cryinginthebackseat · 4 years

Text

initials t.c.

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC

Words: 7.299 (I’M SO SORRY)

Summary: Tobias Carrick makes Claire an offer she can’t refuse.

Warnings: 50% plot, 50% smut, swear-a-thon, blasphemy

Author’s Note: when the book first introduced us to tobias carrick, the first thing that hit my mind was “okay, but that dude is like the carbon copy of jesse williams and that’s hot” but then, once it reveals who he is and what’s his role in the book i went “interestinggggggg” cause you know, i’m a sucker for morally grey characters and all, and i’m not even ashamed to admit it. also, carrick is shaping up to be such an interesting character with each chapter and maybe one day- okay, maybe this sounds like a pipe dream- but one day, i hope he can be a li (let a girl dream plz) lmao

also if anyone’s interested, i made a PLAYLIST to accompany reading the fic.

the title is inspired by serge gainsbourg’s initials bb

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Cast down off heaven Cast down on my knees I’ve lain with the devil Cursed god above Forsaken heaven

To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Whenever Claire thinks about Tobias Carrick, admittedly, unfortunately, tragically, she always thinks about his eyes first before remembering what a colossal pain in the ass he is.

It always comes in that order. Like the number 3 always comes before 4, like the seawater dragging back from the shoreline before a tsunami occurs, like pouring milk before the cereal (she honestly didn’t get what the fuss is about until one day Elijah cried ‘oh, hell no you don’t, satan!‘ one morning and proceeded to give her bullet points why pouring the milk before the cereal is considered a sin and more of an abomination than Nephilims’ existence and that there’s a higher probability that she’s a psycho for being a ‘milk first’ kind of person). So apparently, Claire’s a psycho now which explains so many aspects- but she digresses and the point is, the reaction is uncontrollable and she high-key hates how she can’t control her goddamn mind most of the time.

The point is, she needs to stop thinking about him to begin with.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Claire Castelnuovo was born in the summer, under the sign of Gemini. Marilyn Monroe once said that stands for intellect, being a Gemini, but she was too blissfully unaware of this guerdon that she devoted her adolescent years to being outdoors instead. Too many days she spent trampling along the cornfields with her cousins until the skies faded out with brilliant purple-tinged amber and she was carrying a piece of the sun in her skin and smelled like one, stuffing wildflowers inside her boots as she walked around the neighborhood with her dad’s old stethoscope, napping in a hammock with Oasis’ All Around the World on repeat. By the time she hit 15, her black strands had turned brown from repeated sun exposure. She loved it.

But it was a different time, a different place. Somewhere that only exists on the margins of her memories, lost and hidden.

Now, Claire prefers the night.

It’s 9:30 pm when she arrives at a hotel bar in downtown Boston. A newly christened establishment which has somehow become a regular spot for Hemingway’s enthusiasts once the Boston Globe wrote an article about their Hemingway Daiquiri and how, as they wrote it, ‘probably the only place that’s brave and crazy enough to adhere to the 1930s original recipe’ and bourgeois party birds at wee hours during the weekend.

Her eyes are gritty, dry and strange. Her mind’s much worse for the wear- she feels like shit, like in the middle of watching that scene from The Green Mile shit when all is hopeless and you feel like walking out of the theater, but you’ve spent your last savings just to buy the ticket, so you decide to stick through it.

Claire makes a beeline for the bar, tries to flag down the bartender. She orders an Old Fashioned, making sure to specify to double it because she’s not a regular here and he’s not Reggie and that’s how she’s been taking her drink for years.

She knows well deep in her bones that she should be somewhere else. Somewhere more familiar, somewhere where Tim Mcgraw often plays from the subpar speakers, and the rustic wooden bar countertop is gouging and discoloring from the cheap household cleaners and alcohol stains, and her friends are cramming together in the same booth in the back, reveling and laughing until they close the bar down and make a mess all over. Perhaps it’s a mistake coming here, where no one’s a familiar face and the drinks are a tad overpriced for her budget.

But then, perhaps this is exactly what she needs; the unfamiliarity, the visceral feeling knowing that she doesn’t belong here, where no one knows her name and the huge deal of weight she’s currently carrying on her shoulders. Perhaps, she can’t face her friends after what happened, after what Esme has done. Shit, how could any of this happen? Claire knows this all on Esme’s, but her guilt has grown hopelessly tangled with her anxiety. She’s her intern, for fuck’s sake, Claire’s supposed to prevent this from happening in the first place.

Man, where’s Declan Nash when she feels like punching someone in the face?

Claire makes the mistake of drinking her drink too quickly, because it hasn’t been ten minutes and she’s drained half of the content. Then she reaches for her phone in her bag, fiddles with it, absent-minded, equal parts bored before then settles on watching the band performing Art Pepper’s You Go To My Head and immediately thinks of that time she accidentally dropped her brother’s saxophone in a moment of her rather graceless, wine-soaked self with the whole family present.

Someone plops down on the empty stool next to her. Claire’s now scrolling through her phone- again, bored. Sienna commented on the post Elijah shared to the group chat with a few unnecessary-yet-totally-necessary emojis to the already convoluted series of texts and Claire only reads them in silence, not only because her friends’ texting behaviors are too chaotic for her to follow sometimes but she’s not really feeling like talking to anyone right now.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Famous last words.

Claire freezes in her seat. Her phone’s still glowing in her hand, alighting her features. She recognizes that voice- too well, that is and it’s enough to set off her flight-or-fight response.

She glances up from her phone, preparing for the worst.

Well, what’s presented before her is literally the worst.

“Of all the gin joints…” she says once her eyes find Tobias Carrick sitting next to her, still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled-up, a few buttons undone, reeking of smoke, soap and antiseptic with a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

She should have gone to Donahue’s instead.

“Evening to you too, Castelnuovo. Drinking your dinner tonight, I see?”

“What, this? No, this is breakfast. 100% daily value of alcohol and pretty much nothing else. I mean, it’s not the weekend without a bad case of hangover and an aspirin snowglobe in the morning, am I right? You know, like a glass of aspirin? Not a literal snowglobe?” she blabbers, realizing just so by the time she hears him snort. Claire chokes down another sip to shut her mouth up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m about to commit first-degree murder and burn this whole place to the ground,” he drawls, the ever goddamn sarcastic. “What do you think? I’m trying to get dru-”

“No, I mean what are you doing here, of all places? Can’t you get drunk somewhere else?” she interrupts, her midwest accent does funny things to the vowels and consonants- something that only happens whenever she’s in distress, or at least according to Jackie.

“Last time I heard, this joint’s still owned by the Hilton, not a certain junior member of the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook hospital.”

“Dude, what do you think of the H in Claire H. Castelnuovo stands for?” Deadpan, trying to keep up with the rolling sarcasm, she retorts. He smirks.

“Horatio?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she mutters, mid-eye-roll, mid-snickering.

He chuckles, his voice rich and smoky amidst the late-night swing and distant chatters. Carrick doesn’t leave, of course, typically him- if those anecdotes Ethan told her has taught her anything about his character, that is- defying everything, scheming his way to the top, the embodiment of ‘those devilish boys with their heavenly eyes’ type your mother warns you about.

Not that the latter is relevant.

“Or what?” His mouth twitches but there’s a hard, challenging light in his eyes that she knows too well by now.

“Or I’m leaving.“ She shoots him a glare. He’s testing her patience- again, like it’s his finesse. Some things never change, it seems.

“Come on, Castelnuovo, don’t be a sourpuss. The night is young and I can promise you, the last thing I am is a horrible drinking buddy.”

With a touch of irony, she replies: “I’m sure. I bet you asked your friends to fill out a questionnaire every time you went out with them, did you?”

Carrick hums.

“You’re funny.” But he says it in the same tone that someone might say Jesus fuck, you’re probably one of the most frustrating creatures I’ve ever laid eyes on. Also, because the next thing he says is: “A little rough around the edges, but funny nonetheless.”

“That makes one of us then.”

Carrick frowns, which is kind of a surprise because she’s half expected him to flash her that signature cheeky grin of his.

“Listen, I’m just trying to make a friendly conversation here. I know we haven’t really seen eye-to-eye with each othe-”

Claire snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “That, doctor, is an understatement of the fucking century.”

“Okay so, we’re like Tom and Jerry but sans the background music and a naive little duckling running around calling one of us his momma, but I feel like now’s the time to call out a temporary truce between us.” A beat, then: “I heard about what happened with the intern.”

Something flashes across her face- and Carrick must have noticed it, because his face does this odd thing- it softens, even for a moment. She hates it. He’s not supposed to be looking at her like that, not supposed to see her at her weakest state or saved her ass- And Jesus, why does she have to be indebted to Tobias Carrick, of all people- But god forbid, the last thing she’ll ever do is crying in front of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, barely audible, trying to temper her fluctuated emotions.

“Then don’t. We can talk about anything else or fall into some sort of endless, meaningless platitudes. Whichever will work.” As if sensing Claire’s lingering hesitation, he adds. “Tell you what, to sweeten the offer, your next drinks are on me.”

She assesses him for a long minute, eyes narrowing. She’s shaking her head, but her mouth, as if against her will, instead says: “Careful, Carrick, there’s a chance I’ll be abusing that offer and run you dry.”

"Hey, if you want to butcher your liver so bad, don’t stop on my account,” he says. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure to save your ass again this time around. Pro bono.”

Claire looks as if she’s just swallowed a dead rat. “Thanks, but no thanks. Death seems more like an appealing choice.”

“Well, I stopped death from interfering then, I’ll stop it again.” Carrick winks, she pretends to gag again yet remains still in her seat, so Carrick waves at the bartender for their order- she orders for a refill and he, a martini and Claire is this close from asking 'shaken or stirred?’ but then remembers who he is and immediately washes the question down with her drink.

“You know, if anyone told me weeks ago that I’d be having a drink with you tonight, I probably would have socked them.“

Carrick is in the middle of lighting his cigarette, but laughs instead. “The Times They Are a-Changin’, as Bob Dylan said.” A puff of smoke escapes his mouth, curling around his fingers. Claire instinctively looks away. “Which reminds me of that one time your mentor sang Ballad of A Thin Man on the fucking subway when we were 20.”

She swivels her head to his direction, on the verge of choking on her drink. “Hold on, hold on, Ethan Jonah Ramsey sings?”

“Give him a dare he couldn’t refuse and a few shots of whiskey, and I promise you he’ll sing like Sinatra on crack.” He grins, his eyes are all crinkled and bright; she thinks that means he’s genuinely amused. “Ah, good times. We were like- wait, who was it he’d like to say we’re like again?”

A small smile pulls at her lips. “Bert and Ernie.”

“Jesus, he really fucking compares us to some Sesame Street characters, huh?” She laughs at that, loud and bright. He does the same. “Personally, I’d always say we were like Butch and Sundance back then- rebels with a cause, a band of misfits, trying to leave our marks on the world. You know those types. We were young, we wanted so much- I still do. I mean, let’s be real, whoever’s wanted to be defeated at their own game?”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, not quite a frown.

“Nobody,” Claire concurs, hating herself for it. “But was it worth it? Betraying the closest thing you had to a brother or a lover…” Carrick coughs on his smoke from the latter. “or whatever in the process just to get what you wanted?” Claire was obviously aiming for that brash, hard-hitting jab, but it lands gloriously too soft.

The bartender finally places their ordered drinks down on the bar. Carrick reaches for it, taking a careful swig, then sets his glass down. He takes a deep breath.

"It’s nothing personal. It never was. I never considered him as my rival.”

“Yeah, but by doing whatever you did, you’ve made an enemy out of him,” she counters. “Look, Carrick, I know we live in a dog-eat-dog world and I know being good sometimes doesn’t get the job done. Perhaps Machiavelli was right. Perhaps, when necessary, you have to be ruthless, dissembling and manoeuvring- what did he say again? ‘The end justifies the means’? But if any worthwhile end can justify the means to attain it, if everyone outright surrenders to their darker side, then what’s left of our humanity?”

For an interminable moment, there is only silence. He simply stares at her, as if she’s a walking, talking Rubik’s cube he can’t solve or a book that he has opened and now he’s got to know so much more and she feels pinned under those warm irises, uneasy.

Suddenly, his mouth begins to take shape; the corners hike up, stretch and then he does the unexpected.

The bastard fucking laughs.

“Excuse me?!” she spits, white-hot anger lacing each word. Carrick laughs harder- the audacity- despite Claire’s growing razor’s edge stare. “Did you just laugh at me? I was being fucking seriou-”

“Sorry, sorry.” Wiping an imaginary tear from his left eye. “I was just remembering Harper’s words. She’s right, you really are on the side of the angels, aren’t you?”

She points at him with her glass, snarling. “And you, mister, are the devil himself with a medical degree and an egg head- and I don’t mean the slang for a highly academic person.”

“Ouch,” Carrick says out loud, still kind of laughing, borderline frowning. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Damn straight. Though you have a lot to apologize for.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed about that one patient I stole under your nose?”

“The North remembers, ser,” she says, mean-spirited.

“Then does the North remembers that I saved her life?”

“Oh, so you’re discrediting the efforts of the other doctors that helped you make the cure?”

“Alright, alright. You win.” Carrick holds up his hands, the universal gesture of defeat and takes one final drag of his cigarette. He stubs it out, all the while keeping his gaze on her.

“So, how exactly can I make it up to you?“

Claire blinks- once, twice, thrice, realizing his intent. His voice drops an octave and he’s leaning in, close enough for her to notice the constellations of freckles splaying across his face and the way his brown eyes glinted like two shots of whiskey under a stream of light, intense and all-consuming. She feels her mind races, her brains feel as if they underwent a short-circuit and get caught on fire, and the fact that her mind’s on the precipice of exploring the idea is not helping.

A burst of laughter erupts from her throat, not that it’s funny- there’s nothing funny about the situation, but someone ought to diffuse this shift of tension between them, or that was her aim, at least.

“What, you wanna pay me back?” she asks, trying to keep her voice from cracking but failing miserably. Fingers trembling against her glass as she chugs nearly a quarter of her drink in one go.

He notices that.

"A Lannister always pays his debts, does he? If you think that I owe you one, then I’ll gladly pay.” His eyes flick back to her face, searing into her. The air crackles between them. The band is playing a different song now, a sound that only exists on the margin of her attention. If they’re in, say a mid 2000s rom-com movie, someone would probably interrupt this moment and save her from this. But this isn’t a movie.

Claire licks her lips, a candid reaction which encourages him to inch closer- or is it her? She can’t tell anymore. Tracing odd patterns on the palm of her hand with his finger and oh god, this is Carrick, the bane of her fucking existence, she’d shoot him first before she kisses him. But something about the prospect of fucking this bastard twists her insides deliciously into a confused mess.

“How? By fucking me?” she inquires, feigning scandalized- all that Catholic guilt bullshit.

He grins, all-teeth and wolfish and shrugs as if they’re talking about his life insurance policy or shit. “Well, that’s the idea.”

“But you don’t even like me.” It should come out as I don’t even like you, but even she knows that’ll be just another lie she tells.

“On the contrary, I enjoy our rivalry far more than I should, Castelnuovo,” he purrs and places a hand on her knee. Her throat bobs. She’s wearing a skirt, it didn’t seem important then, but now his hand feels warm against her skin, dangling on the edge of impropriety. Like gravity, all it takes is a little push for him to cross that line.

“I should be disliking the way you talk to me, challenging me and putting me on the back foot every goddamn time. I should be focusing on taking you down a peg, but the more I see you, the more I realize you have an attractive kind of power. And I’m just one man. And if there’s anything I learned, the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.”

But then his movement suddenly ceases. Claire almost asks why.

"However…”

“What?” she stares up at him, eyes wide, breath hitching.

“However if you only accept alcohol as the currency for transactions, then I’ll tell the bartender to get us another round instead,“ he tells her, offering her one last chance to back out from this, from making this mistake with him.

Claire stares into her drink, actually mulling this over. Her mind tells her no, but the other part- the alcohol-infused part of her mind- whispers otherwise. She imagines if Ethan or any of her friends are here, they would probably grab her shoulder and shake the living hell out of her for even reconsidering his offer.

But then again, intelligence, alcohol and desperation have always had a bad history of getting along together.

“What about June?” Claire asks against her better judgement, after a long, considerable pause. Carrick raises a confused brow.

“What about her?”

“I thought you guys…” she trails off, makes a face, feeling all-kind of flustered and aroused and wow, she’s really doing this, huh? “I mean, I don’t know- I don’t wanna get in between you guys.”

“Nah. It was only a three time thing, but there’s never been anything between us.” He chuckles at Claire’s askance look. “If you don’t believe me, you can fact-check it with the woman herself,” Carrick adds, looking at her dead-on with his eyes like he wants to get the message across.

She regards him silently for a long second, and maybe she’s a touch drunk now, maybe the bartender put something in her drink, or maybe she just needs to blow off some steam after what’s been happening in these past few weeks and Carrick happens to be a decent warm body for the occasion, but Claire finds herself shifting closer.

"Then I want you to pay me back.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” she answers, more sure this time, more determined.

Her nose bumps his, his breath fanning across her face all the while Carrick’s slightly pushing her skirt up, letting his fingertips travel higher. His eyes keep darting back and forth from her eyes and lips, checking for her reaction. There is no inhibition here, not anymore. People might be watching- heck, they could be already watching and it terrifies her that she doesn’t give a damn about it.

“But if you tell anyone about this, I swear to god… ” she warns and a shadow of mirth passes across his eyes, making her almost regretting this. Almost.

“Claire, darling.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her name and her stomach does a tango. “Your secret is safe with me.“ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He gets them a room in the hotel, it’s on the twentieth floor. Carrick handles the accommodation- he can afford it, apparently, which is not really surprising and the nuisating check-in procedure while Claire only waits in the lobby like a beautiful, agitated china doll amidst the turbulent sea the whole time until he comes back, flashes the room key at her and beckons her to follow.

She goes ahead of him, but he catches up. His body heat sends her anxiety rocketing sky-high through the roof as they walk next to each other, hands briefly brushing against one another but she ignores that (or at least she tries).

They are silent in the elevator, they are silent even once they reach the designated floor and walk down the hall to their room where the dim and shadowed lights follow their steps like vultures.

Carrick holds open the door for her and she enters, taking in the windows and the striking view of Boston skyline peeking behind the curtains, the TV and the queen-sized bed. The latter does nothing to assuage the anticipation that’s bubbling in the pit of her stomach, by the way.

Claire hears him shut the door, locking both bolts. She peers at him over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. Their eyes meet, neither speaks. He’s taking off his black peacoat, back against the door, he’s looking at her as if wanting her is his full-time occupation and the realizations comes in like a mule kick, how that tiny voice inside her head, the one that tells her that this is a bad idea and she’s better off leaving never comes.

The room is not considerably huge (with $110 per night, you would have expected you’d get a bigger room), he could easily have her in six large steps, yet he stands there. Sizing her up, smirking rather devilishly, handsomely as if challenging her to make the first move. It’s another fucking game with him. A display of power, waiting who would fall first.

Claire finally turns around to face him. With a renowned determination, she removes her coat, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. Her blouse follows next and her skirt, which she tugs it oh so slowly down her legs.

Carrick’s eyes widen, if she doesn’t know better, she thinks he’s speechless. He takes a deep breath, his gaze religiously following every movement as she twirls around once more to unhook her bra. His jaw clenches and unclenches. He’s having a hard time keeping himself in check which she takes an immense pleasure in. Claire just wants to see the man squirm for a change, even if she has to shed every article of clothing she wears.

By the time she slips off of her underwear, she is breathing raggedly. He hasn’t yet approached her so she crawls onto the bed, lying on her back with one elbow props her up, legs crossed. She kicks off her heels, rolls down her stockings with a bit of that noir come-hither, Lauren Bacall-esque heavy bedroom eyes.

Finally, Carrick steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away, like a target, filling her line of sight. The tension in the room is hot enough to send the thermometer reaching its maximum limit and she’s burning, burning, burning right through the core.

Claire cranes her head up to meet his gaze, noticing the way he’s drinking in her body like a pirate ogling a bottle of rum. High-strung, tense, Carrick lowers his head to her, his fingers carding through her long hair. Dimness consumes him raw, his silhouette is starting to find its place amongst the shadows except for his eyes. Never does the fire in his eyes falter, merely alight.

They are already nose-to-nose when Claire suddenly raises her hand over his lips. He withdraws from her, looking confused and hot and bothered.

“Take a seat over there, will you?” She motions to the settee near the bed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He smirks, but she can see his bravado if faltering. “Ordering me around in the bed now, are we?”

“Didn’t you say tonight is about you making it up to me?”

“Touche, touche.” Carrick straightens his posture and makes his way to the settee across from her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat given the growing issue in his pants.

With eyes still trained to his, Claire cups her own breast, fingers pinching her pebbled nipple before the same hand travels lower down her stomach, her thighs. Carrick leans forward in his seat, obviously liking where this is going before Claire slowly and teasingly part her legs for him to see.

A surprised groan escapes him.

“Jesus, Claire,” Carrick hisses. “Fuck, I didn’t know you’re a goddamn tease.”

She doesn’t bother replying to him, but a winning grin finds its way across her face as she lays on her back, her shame and modesty are distant, knees pulled up so he can have a clear view of her. With two fingers, she runs them along her folds, dragging them slowly up to her clit. Claire imagines they are his fingers- which once upon a time would have horrified her, but tonight, as she repeats the motion over and over, knowing that he’s sitting there, watching her without being able to get his hands on her, she decides to submit to this newfound fantasy.

A rustle pulls her back to reality. He’s undoing his own pants, palming his cock, runs his fingers over the leaking head.

A low moan catches in her throat at that, her gaze snapping up from his erection to his face where his irises have darkened and pupils dilated. He wants to show her, that’s he’s as depraved as her when it comes to wanting, that he fucking wants her and in spades and she fails to think like a normal human being anymore.

Claire uses that image to work on herself harder, faster, feeling the intense pressure beginning to build beneath her fingers. She’s so wet now, despite him being able to see that, she wants him to hear it as well as she uses her idle hand to tap against herself. Carrick growls, his pace matching the rhythm she’s setting.

She slips her fingers inside her, drops her head back against the mattress and bites a loud moan that threatens to escape her lips. Flushing scarlet all over her abdomen, her breasts and up to her neck. Her blood thumping louder than bombs in her ears, her breaths begin to come in gasps.

Another fast and hard thrust from fingers, and Claire finds herself sighing his name.

“Tobias…”

And every last bit of his self-restraint snaps.

In just a blink of an eye, Carrick is already on his feet, grabs her waist, harshly, and tugs her down onto the edge of the bed where he’s now kneeling before her. He doesn’t bother with the teasings or soft kisses or caresses, and even before Claire has the time to register what’s happening, he crushes his face between her parted legs and eats her out.

She gasps, high and fleeting, twisting the bed sheet between her fists while his tongue flicks over her, moving back up, back down, lapping along her folds in the same motions she showed him with her hand, how she likes it. Claire forgets how to breathe. It just occurs to her just how arousing the sight of him on his knees like this, sending her mind hitchhiking into outer space.

“Oh, fuck.” She breathes, back arching on the bed with a drawn-out moan. “Fuck, Tobias!” Her hips gyrate over his mouth and she presses her heels against his shoulder blades. She’s so close. All she needs is a little push to send her careening into oblivion and it seems that Carrick can sense it because he brings two digits to her entrance and slides easily inside her, setting a ruthless pace.

With her hands reaching out to the back of his head, Claire cries out his name and trembles violently. Encouraged, Carrick curves his fingers inside her, hitting that exact spot that finally undoes her as she comes, long and hard, around his mouth and fingers- the kind of orgasm that you can feel deep in your bones- and watches as fireworks dance behind her lids.

When she finally comes down from her high, everything is hazy. It’s like waking up from a deep slumber after a decadent soak in a scented bath and she loses all orientation, until she feels him nipping the inside of her thighs. She hisses, glances down, heavy-lidded eyes finding Carrick is leaving bruises after bruises all over her skin like some kind of a lewd memento of his work, like he wants her to remember this the next time she wakes up in her own bed and he’s not there.

"Are you trying to turn me into a Na'vi, doctor?” She asks, still kinda breathless, feeling surprisingly conversational despite having just experienced, if not, one of the best orgasms in her life. He smiles against her thigh and withdraws from her, only after her thighs are sufficiently bruised enough, licks his fingers clean and stands up at the end of the bed.

“Maybe. You’d make a cute blue extraterrestrial creature, though,” he replies cheekily, then undoes the button of his shirt, showcasing his naked torso.

Claire feels her cheeks heating up again, but forces herself to stare; eyes following his pectoral muscles, down to the toned lines of his abdomen while he slides off of his pants. The man is one fine specimen, alright, and he knows- smug bastard- and she thinks it’s such a shame that Carrick is… well, Carrick. If the man learns how to shut up for one minute or avoid trying to sabotage everyone’s career at Edenbrook altogether, maybe, just maybe, she’d consider him.

“But honestly, I just wanted to hear you say my name again,” Carrick continues, crawling his way up to her, pulling her out of her musings. He settles between her thighs. His lips finding her ear and nibbling at the lobe while his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipple. Claire shivers. Nails scraping along his skin, raising angry marks that would certainly be there tomorrow.

When they kiss, it’s so good that she can’t help but curl her toes. He kisses her like he’s trying to steal her breath or her name. She can taste herself in his mouth, which sparks so many feelings inside her. Her mind’s foggy, sweat pooling on her forehead. Carrick is but shoves his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her, biting, sucking and she leans hard into the kiss, retaliates by scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. It spurs him on. Making his cock twitch against her thigh and Claire decides she can’t wait anymore.

Claire rolls her hips at him. He takes the hint and rolls over to grab a condom from his pants. Then he’s back on top of her, his weight and heat crushing her most deliciously and brings her body further up the bed with him; she drapes her legs around his hips, hands gripping his arms. Her lust and anticipation collaborate to the point of near madness.

Carrick nips the taut line of her jaw and drives himself into her.

They both groan in unison.

“Oh, fuck.” Carrick mumbles between shaky breaths, his face pressed against her throat. “Fucking hell, Claire, you feel so warm.”

Claire, on the other hand, goes rigid under him. Her mouth hangs open and her world narrows down to the feeling of his cock inside her and the pleasure that builds up again in her abdomen.

This is happening, she thinks, he’s inside her and it feels so amazing. She might as well be crazy for agreeing to do this with him in the first place, but the promise of the thrill beats the doubts.

He starts slow, just the smallest fraction of hips, gently thrusting back and forth in shallow motions. She whines, frustrated and impatient, raising her own hips to meet his, but Carrick’s weight pins her onto the mattress and she can’t fucking move.

“F-faster,” Claire stammers, her molars grinding like toothache.

The bastard smirks, like he’s been anticipating the word coming out of her mouth.

“Beg for it.” His words are punctuated with every unhurried stroke he’s giving her, teasing her and if she’s not in the middle of being fucked right now, she would have kicked him in the balls.

Growling, she swallows her plea by pulling Carrick down for another kiss. This time, she’s the one who does the biting and the sucking, making sure he’s distracted enough and then just like with all the things she does in her life, she takes the matter into her own hands.

With all her strength, she scrambles up, pushes him off of her and knocks him onto his back flat on the bed. When she swings her legs to straddle him, his eyes pop.

“Holy shit, you are feisty.”

“Only cause I’m angry and horny,” she bites off. Angling herself above him and with one hand, guides his shaft back to her opening. “And you- you weren’t doing a proper job fucking me.”

He smirks. “I was trying to wind you up.”

“Fuck you.”

She lowers herself and sinks back onto his cock, relishing in his moans and growls.

“Baby, you’re doing it.” His hands curling around her waist, his head falls back onto the bed, exposing his throat and Claire is so hard-pressed not to bite him there.

Claire ignores his smartassness, naturally, and lifts herself, drops back down. Slamming her hips into his until she’s bouncing on him. Nails clawing at his chest. Finally be able to set a pace she desperately craves for, finally wiping that smirk off of his face.

Under her, Carrick is biting his lip in an effort to not to lose control. His hands are everywhere now; her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her cheeks. Leaving fire on its wake. She might still hate him after this is strange, little arrangement is over but at this juncture, he’s exactly the remedy she needs after everything.

Then Carrick wraps his arms around her and picks up the pace, thrusting into her hard and fast. Claire shakes. She can’t catch her breath, her forehead pressed on his shoulder, her teeth latching onto his skin. Breathing a string of 'fuckfuckfuck’ while he squeezes her ass and continues to fuck her with careless abandon.

"Tobias.” Her moans amplify. She’s close to climaxing again, her legs quivering. Eyes wide shut. “Please, please.” So much for not begging.

He pulls her to him so their foreheads meet. Their lips brush against each other, but they aren’t kissing, merely trading breaths. A hand touches her cheek and her lids flutter open, finding his eyes- those depthless, amber eyes that pretty much lead her to this point, are watching her, pulling her in.

“Say it again,” he encourages darkly, face twists in pleasure. “My name. Say it again.”

She does it again, it comes out as a groaned whisper, repeating it over and over again like a sacred mantra.

Her second orgasm sweeps through her, making her spine arches, it tears a winded moan from her throat and it’s more than enough to trigger Carrick’s own release; fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, groaning gutturally.

Panting, sore but sated, Claire collapses on top of his chest, his arm still drapes around her. The rise and fall of his breath lull her to sleep. Before she knows it, he gently rolls her to his side, pulling the covers for them and kisses her on the shoulder, which comes out as… odd for her.

The bed moves and she feels him leaving.

He’s leaving.

She doesn’t know why it stings, but it does. But also Claire opts not to pay no mind to it and forces her mind to surrender to sleep that once again tries to take hold.

Claire wishes she doesn’t dream of him that night, but she does.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s way past midnight when she wakes up. The room is dark. The curtains are closed. She’s still naked and sore under the covers, mind reeling in from what has just transpired.

One might ask in which universe does Claire Castelnuovo agree to sleep with Tobias Carrick? Well, apparently they did it in this one and oddly still, she doesn’t regret it. Though she’s still low-key sad that he left her straight after sex, but hey, what can she do about it? This arrangement itself is nothing but a means to an end, anyway, a perverse alternative for him to pay back what he allegedly owes her, she shouldn’t be surprised if he left after the ‘debt’ is paid.

Feeling her mood somehow takes an unexpected dip, she gets us from the bed and gathers her clothes on the floor.

She’s in the middle of zipping up her skirt when the bedside lamp flickers and comes on.

Claire turns around. Carrick, rousing from sleep, looks at her, rubbing his eyes and stifles a yawn. His lips still tinged from her kisses and bites.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep and Claire thinks her mouth is hanging open, standing rooted to the spot like a spider on an icicle; frozen in time.

For a moment, she does nothing but stares at him, being rendered speechless. For many times, Tobias Carrick never fails to surprise her. Just when she thinks she has him all figured out, he comes sneaking in through her windows like a thief in the night and it just strikes her, how he really is an uncharted territory for her. Despite her having him pinned under her, exploring the hard planes of his body under the touches just a few hours ago.

The man is like a fucking myth, at this point. She knows him only from stories and her limited time around him, but who is exactly Tobias Carrick? Is he the competitive doctor at Mass Kenmore, the Machiavellian asshole that severed his friendship/relationship with Ethan for the sake of his greed and ambition? Or is he, Tobias Carrick, the man who saves her life, makes her laugh and kisses her shoulder in the afterglow?

She’ll probably never know.

“Yeah, my roommates will probably deploy a search party if I don’t come home tonight,” she replies, distracted, finally finding her own voice back. He nods, feigning disappointment- or is he not? She clears her throat and continues putting on her clothes. “I thought you left.”

He chuckles at the absurdity of her deduction. “And without saying goodbye?” Carrick rolls off of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s already wearing his pants- thank fuck for that- and approaches her. “I may be an asshole, Castelnuovo, but just so you know, my mother raised me better than that.”

So they’re back to their usual last name basis perimeter. That’s good, right? After all of this, she thinks a little familiarity would be nice for her sanity.

“Good to know, then.”

Silence encompasses the room. It’s awkward and overwhelming and it throws her a little off-balance. At the bar, they seemed to know exactly what to say to each other- especially him; but now, even she can sense the hesitation in his gait, at the way he’s looking at her and a faint alarm is trilling her head. Because if he’s making this awkward, she can do a whole lot of worse.

"Oh, before you ask, that makes up for pretty much everything, yeah. I mean, it’s alright.” You fucking dumbass, she thinks to herself, averting his gaze while a smile blooms on his face.

“Good to know, then.” He parrots her words and she huffs a laugh, freely and sweetly, like she’s currently not knee-deep in her problems or she’s just fucked the most incorrigible man that ever exists. He does too, but his gaze lands on her mouth before going back to her eyes.

Another silence passes. It’s time to go.

“I have to go now.”

He nods mutely and moves away so Claire can step past him.

She wears her coat. In the mirror, she still looks thoroughly fucked; her hair’s dishevelled, she smells like him now, but she really needs to go. She promises herself that this will be a one time thing because, Jesus fuck, she’s supposed to be smarter than this. She’s not fifteen anymore, and this is not the summer where she can watch the sunset from the cornfields with her cousins even though his eyes possess the same color.

Yet she walks toward the door in a daze, like she’s forgetting something but can’t pinpoint what it is.

“Can I-”

“Hey, do you-”

She stops, mid-turning, and closes her mouth. She doesn’t realize she’s interrupting him.

“Oh, sorry,” Claire says, embarrassed. “You go first, it’s alright.”

“Can I have your number?” he asks, uncharacteristically hesitant.

She thinks he’s joking or maybe he’s just feigning interest, but one look at his eyes and she can tell that this isn’t smoke and mirrors.

The eyes, chico. They never lie. It’s dumb, but that line from Scarface is the first thing that comes to her mind. That’s why when she hands him her phone, her hand is shaking slightly. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning like a maniac.

Claire takes a cursory glance at her phone once he returns it. He saved his number solely as t.c. with the water drop, the syringe, the ghost, the eggplant, the firework emoji and she chuckles endearingly, questioning the universe how he can easily get both a rise and a laugh out of her.

“I’ll text you?” Carrick asks again and she nods a little too enthusiastically at it, but what the hell?

“Sure.”

“Alright.” He takes one look at her, steps closer and for a moment, she thinks he might be going to kiss her.

“Goodnight, Claire,” Carrick says instead and she nods, admitting the fact that he’s not going to do it.

“Goodnight to you too, Tobias.” Then pauses at the doorway, feeling surprisingly bold. “I gotta give it to you, though, for someone who’s become the bane of my existence for months, you’re a damn good lay.”

He barks out a laugh, obviously, that Claire can hear all the way down the hall. And she thinks she can get used to the sound.

fin.

Tag list: @villain-fuckarooni @beckaroo @arfeiniel @this-person-is-busy @colossalpainintheass @drethanramslay @hatescapsicum @theeccentricbibliophile

#playchoices #open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #open heart mc #oh mc #pixelberry #choices stories you play

150 notes · View notes

girlsbtrs · 3 years

Text

How Countercultures turn Politics into Culture

Written by Lila Danielsen Wong. Graphic by Paula Nicole

In 1969, an academic named Theodore Roszak published “The Making of a Counterculture” and coined the term “counterculture” in order to describe the ant-mainstream youth movements of the 60s. Counterculture’s are not inherently good or progressive, both the punks and the skinheads are countercultures. Counterculture just means, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, a culture with values and mores that run counter to those of established society.

I’m not here to critique these movements. I am not writing this to critique how the Bohemian Romantics won respect for the arts because they mostly came from upper class backgrounds, and I’m not here to discuss the lack of intersectionality in the riot grrl movement. After starting this article I realized I had pitched a whole academic thesis, and maybe bit off a little more than I had intended to chew (why can’t I just pitch a listicle?). So, instead of focusing on the nitty gritty of what prompted these social movements and academically exploring their effects, I want to talk about the “culture” part of counterculture.

Nearly all countercultures are birthed around shared political ideas, but many seem to start within the culture itself, perhaps as a musical movement, a literary movement, a visual art movement, or even a fashion or aesthetic. As the movements expand, they come to encompass more of those aforementioned arts, and thus the politics that prompted the original movement become a culture.

An early example of a western subculture is the Bohemian Romantics of Europe of the 19th century. In pre-revolutionary France, artists were lower class tradesmen. Artists were seen as dirty and immoral. However, in post-revolutionary France, disillusionment prompted young bourgeois men to reject the typical hierarchy and launch the bohemian artist lifestyle we are more familiar with today. A critical event on this timeline was Victor Hugo’s “Romantic Army,” or his mob of young men that he assembled to protest theatre censorship by absolutely trashing a theatre. The Bohemian lifestyle often manifested as wealthy young artists electing poverty to reject the traditions they were born into, and to spend their time creating art unrestricted. Bohemian fashion was more utilitarian and rustic than the upper-class styles. The music of the Romantic era is categorized by its vigor and passion, pioneered by Beethoven himself. Beethoven challenged the strict and sometimes formulaic sonatas and symphonies of the past, favoring expression and inventiveness. Thus, prompted by the rejection of bourgeois values and principles, a culture was created: a lifestyle, an aesthetic, a literary movement, a new musical style.

Nearly 150 years later and 5000 miles away from Bohemian France, the riot grrl movement was brewing in the Northwest United states. The riot grrl movement, created by a group of women working to combat sexism in the western Washington punk scene, was a counterculture within a counterculture. While the Romantic movement originated in literature, the punk movement, and then the riot grrl movement, was born as a musical movement.

In 1970s Britain, the government was nearly bankrupt and giant cuts to social services were making life hard and creating a sense of alienation between the ruling class and the working class. British Punk emerged from this alienation. The youth used music to communicate their frustrations and anger. The rips and safety pins of punk fashion weren’t originally fashion, the punks just owned ragged clothing. The disillusionment with the political landscape and frustration with older generations resonated with youth all over the world, and it’s not hard to see why a Post-Vietnam and Watergate America would embrace the Punk movement with open arms. However, where British Punk was rooted in working class frustrations, American Punk took root with the middle-class suburban crowd, who, similar to the Bohemians, choose to reject the comfortable life they were born into. A notable difference that this created in the music was British punk had more pointed and explicit politically leftist lyrics, whereas this was not the focus of American punk lyrics.

This is especially important to understand when talking about the riot grrl movement because they put the politics in American Punk lyrics. In the early 1990s, a group of women from the Olympia, Washington punk scene had a meeting to address the sexism they faced in Punk. They started writing lyrics centered around the sexism and misogyny they face in Punk and in life. They created their own literature through zines when they could not get coverage. They wore clothing specifically intended to look like what respectable women weren’t supposed to wear. Again, we watch a group of people turn their politics into a culture, as a way to spread and practice their ideologies.

If you want a modern example of turning politics into culture via a counterculture, look no further than cottagecore (yes, really).

As I said at the beginning, countercultures don’t need to be radically progresive to be countercultures. Cottagecore dwells on romanticized pastoral ideals of a fantastic yesteryear that never really existed. Cottagecore gained some traction on TikTok as an “aesthetic,” made up of imagery such as women in long button up dresses flouncing through fields and making picnics. Absent were the rise and grind aspirations of pre-pandemic America. Absent were any signs of the labor often associated with pastoral living. It is no surprise that a counterculture that emphasizes solitary retreat, rest, nature, and crafting blew up during the first year of the covid-19 pandemic during which many experienced forced solitary retreats, a change in work environments (not to mention the want to not work), and boredom that could only be remedied with solitary activities such as crafting and enjoying nature. The pandemic dismantled all of the systems of normal life as we knew it, and cottagecore invited us to grow from this space, perhaps embracing a simpler, slower life. This political message was so subtly delivered through our social media scrolling that if you weren’t paying attention, you might not have even realized cottagecore had political ideals at all.

The rise of cottagecore is important in the conversation of how countercultures turn politics into culture because it showcases very blatantly how countercultures are not created, or at least do not catch on, without need and reason. Taylor Swift most likely did not create her surprise albums Folklore and Evermore (the unofficial cottagecore soundtrack) solely to cater to the cottagecore TikTok crowd, she created these albums as a form of personal escapism from how her own life was turned upside down by the pandemic, as a form of connection with her fans who were also experiencing the effects of the pandemic on their lives, and as art that represented certain feelings that came along with the pandemic.

Her albums came about for the same reason that cottagecore really caught on in the first place: it was what some people felt that they needed due to the circumstances of the time. It was for this reason, I would argue, that Folklore won album of the year. It was indicative of the times.

So, countercultures are born from a need. From this need comes politics, be it post revolution anti-bourgeois sentiments, mid-century British leftism, or a quiet call to slow down and reject hustle culture for a simple life. From politics comes art, and from art, culture.

Let’s talk about this in terms of an up-and-coming counterculture, hyperpop.

Though Wikipedia currently defines hyperpop as a “micro genre,” hyperpop’s rise is looking anything but “micro.” Hyperpop is described in The Spectator as “catchy synthpop or bubblegum bass tune with elements of EDM and typically a focus on either queer culture or Internet futurism”. The term “self-referential lyrics” is often thrown around. In the least complicated words possible, hyperpop uses it’s sounds and lyrics to make a camped-up parody of popular music. Hyperpop pioneers that have some mainstream following include SOPHIE, Charli xcx, and Caroline Polechek. Hyperpop often uses carbonated synth sounds and vocal modulation, and many of the trailblazers are part of the LGBT community.

What will hyper pop fashion and literature look like? What are hyper pop’s politics?

As for politics, there is something inherently political about queer artists carving out a space for themselves in pop music. Orange Magazine describes this as “pushing pop music to its limits and satirizing the gendered music industry. There’s an enjoyable sense of irony and juxtaposition.”

As for fashion, if we’re following the patterns we’ve established, hyperpop might bring gender non-conforming fashion that satirizes what’s been proclaimed normal. In terms of literature perhaps a Hyperpop literary movement will come from the controversial direction of Alt Lit, a community of minimalist writers that use the internet form and often reject intellectualized creative writing, create things that are weird for the sake of being weird, and use all caps and other purposeful spelling and grammar mistakes. A hyperpop literary movement might share the “self-referential” themes of hyperpop movement, while examining gender, sexuality, and personal identity in the internet age, seeing as the need to examine these themes in music indicates a need to examine these themes in other art forms. Maybe it will find creative ways to use internet platforms, as Alt Lit originators such as Steve Roggenbuck, a YouTube poet (well, a poet depending on who you ask), already have.

What I find most exciting about hyperpop is that it has the potential to create a culture guided by music first, similar to the punks or to disco. Fashion and visual art and literature all inspired by the glittery new sounds created in music. Maybe hyperpop will stay a “microgenre,” but maybe we will get to witness the rise of something new.

SOPHIE once said “I think all pop music should be about who can make the loudest, brightest thing. That, to me, is an interesting challenge, musically and artistically… just as valid as who can be the most raw emotionally,” and isn’t that a phenomenal thing to bring with us into a pent-up, fed-up, thoroughly exhausted, and newly vaccinated decade?

Sources

https://monoskop.org/images/b/b4/Roszak_Theodore_The_Making_of_a_Counter_Culture.pdf

https://www.sfgate.com/books/article/When-the-counterculture-counted-2835958.php

https://www.classicfm.com/discover-music/periods-genres/romantic/

https://www.mtholyoke.edu/courses/rschwart/hist255/bohem/tlaboheme.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Punk_subculture

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riot_grrrl

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theodore_Roszak_(scholar)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bohemianism

https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/brief-history-riot-grrrl-space-reclaiming-90s-punk-movement-2542166

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/05/03/arts/music/riot-grrrl-playlist.html

https://www.nypl.org/blog/2013/06/19/riot-grrrl-movement

https://wildezine.com/3528/opinion/a-brief-history-of-punk/

file:///C:/Users/8lila/Downloads/history_initiates_vol_iv_april_2016_01_brooks_alison.pdf

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2021/03/hyperpop/617795/

https://www.billboard.com/articles/columns/pop/9595799/hyperpop-history-mainstream-crossover/

https://www.stuyspec.com/ae/hyperpop-the-defining-genre-of-the-digital-age

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyperpop

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YRl4Kdnl2E&list=LL&index=4

https://theface.com/music/sophie-behind-the-boards-pop-scottish-producer

https://orangemag.co/orangeblog/2020/10/15/exploring-the-trans-roots-of-hyperpop

https://thebluenib.com/the-rise-and-fall-of-alt-lit-by-ada-wofford/

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/pc-music-are-for-real-a-g-cook-and-sophie-talk-twisted-pop-58119/

#lila danielsen wong

6 notes · View notes

anonniemousefics · 4 years

Text

Dying Tomorrow

Originally posted on AO3

Fandom: Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom | Kaz + Inej

Word count: 4,927

***Rated NSFW (aged-up characters)*** -- It’s real smutty, guys.

Synopsis: It's been over ten years since the raid on the Ice Court, and Inej rarely thought of it anymore. And she tried to not think of the boy who'd pulled it off. But Fjerda did not forget. And now Kaz and Inej are reunited after years apart: awaiting their fate on the gallows in Djerholm. What final words of truth do they have to share with each other?

Rough hands threw Inej into the dark, and she caught herself on her knees, hands against cold, rough stone. The heavy iron door shut behind her with a resounding clang, the hefty lock lurching into place. And, for the first time in weeks, she was alone with her mind. Her heavy breathing echoed off the dungeon’s stone walls.

It had been over ten years since the raid on the Ice Court. An entire decade. In the grand scheme of all of her capers, the Ice Court still ranked in the top five, but had certainly been bumped out of the top slot years ago. She rarely thought about it anymore. And rarely thought about the boy who’d somehow pulled it all off.

But Fjerda had not forgotten. And now Fjerda had come to collect.

Inej pushed herself up to her feet, trying to take stock of herself in the dim light. She felt naked without her knives. Her black hair, which she’d chopped to her shoulders years ago, hung in dirty strings, mangled and knotted from the weeks she’d spent in a holding cell in Djerholm. She was sure her grey prison clothes were starting to smell.

She hadn’t thought of the boy who’d broken into the Ice Court in years, but now, more than ever, she wished she could get her hands on him.

“Inej.” Like something from a dream, that old, familiar grating voice, like stone against stone, called from the dungeon’s dark shadows, and Inej thought for a moment she might have lost her mind. She squinted into the darkness.

Son of a bitch. Kaz Brekker himself.

He limped into the thin line of flickering torch light that seeped in from the hall. How many years had it been? His hair was longer, his angles sharper, the taper of his shoulders to his waist clearly that of a man’s and no longer a boy’s. He was in prison clothes, too, old and new bruises blooming across his face and the scruff on his jaw. He had a new scar across his lip she’d never seen before.

“You.” Of all the faces she thought she might see inside a Fjerdan prison, this was the last she expected. She couldn’t believe the Fjerdans would put them together.

But then, she supposed it mattered very little to them where prisoners awaited their death sentence.

“Hello, Wraith,” Kaz rasped.

Her heart slammed against the inside of her ribcage. Her cheeks felt hot and buzzing. Kaz Brekker. Kaz Brekker.

Kaz fucking Brekker.

“You.” When she found her voice again, the rage came out in a growl. She could barely see straight. She would kill him. She would kill him right here. She crossed the cold stone floor in three quick steps and threw all of her weight into slamming an arm across his chest, throwing him up against the dungeon’s cold wall.

“You son of a bitch.” She bared her teeth and seized fistfuls of his scratchy prison shirt. “You implicated me. You sold me out.”

“You know I did no such thing.” Kaz kept his hands, his bare hands, out to the side, his dark eyes as imperceptible, as cold and unfeeling as ever. He wasn’t fighting her, and how she hated him for it.

“They blew up The Wraith,” she snarled in his face. She was out of tears to cry. All that was left was blinding, white hot rage. “You’ve cost me everything. You better start begging me for your life, or you’re not going to live to hang tomorrow.”

“I didn’t give them anything.” In the dark, Kaz’s eyes grew wider. He believed her. He knew she could strangle him with her bare hands.

“Then how come you’re the only one here?” Inej wasn’t loosening her grip, not for a moment. She should have never trusted Dirtyhands to run a clean job. “Who else could have tipped them off?”

“If I was going to sell you out, don’t you think I’d do a better job bargaining than this?” Kaz was beginning to raise his rasping voice. “Do you think I’d still be waiting to die tomorrow? Don’t you think I know enough to have prevented this?” And he held up his left hand to the light. There, at the end, were two bloody, bandaged stumps where his pinky and ring finger had been.

Inej faltered. She started to loosen her grip.

“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” She was still seething.

“I don’t know,” Kaz said. “And believe me, I’d love to know. I’ll plaster Ketterdam with his innards when I find out.”

Fine. The truth mattered little anymore anyway. She released him with one last angry shove and stormed to the other side of the dungeon.

For a long time, she thought the silence was preferable. She didn’t want to even look at him. She was furious with him, but, even more frightening, memories long buried had bubbled to the surface while she’d had him in her hands. She’d spent many years letting go of what she’d wanted from him, what he could not give. She’d built a life for herself, with other lovers who had come and gone. All of it now at the bottom of the sea. And now the cruelest irony of it all: now she would spend her final hours with the only thing she’d wanted and never could quite claim for herself.

The Saints must really hate her.

But eventually the great, yawning silence of the dungeon became too much. The bleak unknown of what was to come struck her deep down in her gut. She needed distraction. Kaz had been good for that, at least.

“How’d they get you anyway?” she said, finally. This would at least be a good story.

“There’s not much to tell,” Kaz said, to her dismay. “The Fjerdans struck an extradition treaty with Kerch. And the Kerch have wanted to get rid of me for a long time.” She could see the glint of his wicked smile even in the dark. He would be proud of being hated by an entire country, the bastard.

“So, what – they just extradited you?” She raised an eyebrow. Seemed like an anticlimactic end for the Bastard of the Barrel.

“Hauled me out of my office, put me on the next boat to Fjerda,” Kaz summarized, with a cavalier shrug. Somehow, she doubted he really felt so unruffled about it. But she’d stopped trying to know the truth of Kaz Brekker long ago. Some vaults were best left locked.

“The Fjerdans blew up The Wraith?” Kaz asked. Inej stiffened.

“We’re not talking about that,” she said, flatly.

“I’m glad the old girl was still in sailing shape to the last,” Kaz commented, and then, a little more pointed: “I’d often wondered what happened to her since you stopped writing.”

Inej narrowed her eyes at him.

“Really? We’re doing this? Right here?” Her lip curled back in a sneer.

“Is the venue not good enough for you?” Kaz rasped back. “Would you like me to call the waiter over -- see if he can find us better seating?”

“You are such an ass.”

“You appreciated that about me once.”

“I have never.” Inej leaned forward, hoping he’d catch the barbs in her voice. “Once I thought there might have been something underneath all of your assholery.”

“And?”

“I got tired of digging for treasure and only returning with pennies.”

And she leaned back against the dungeon wall again. She glared at the door, willing it to open again and take her away from this ghost of her past. But of course it wouldn’t. Not until the gallows were ready.

“Interesting.” She couldn’t help rolling her eyes when Kaz’s voice echoed again.

“What?” she barked, irritated.

“I lived in fear so long of being hated by you,” he said. “I would have moved heaven and earth to avoid it. And yet I find I like it better than being ignored.”

“Good to know.” She would keep quiet then. She wouldn’t even look at him. She didn’t want to look at him anyway, how the prison clothes clung to the muscles of chest or how his coffee-black gaze could still seem to pierce right through her. Looking was doing her no good at all.

“Was your crew on The Wraith when she met her end?” But Kaz wasn’t going to be ignored, apparently. “Or family? Friends?” He paused. “Or a lover?”

Subtle.

“I think most made it to the row boats,” she said, and then corrected herself for the sake of her heart. “I think all of them made it to the row boats.” She’d seen them dotting the waves just before the Fjerdan ship took aim.

“Do you think your lover survived?” Kaz asked. She glanced his direction, against her better judgment, to see he was aimlessly picking at dirt under his nails, like he barely cared at all.

“Yes,” she lied. Let him think there was a lover. “I think he did.”

“Should I let him do the honors of rescuing you?” Kaz lifted his eyebrows, still preoccupied with the dirt on his fingers. “Or are you not willing to risk his failure?”

Inej’s heart skipped.

“Are you saying you have a plan to get out of here?” She was feeling the tiniest shred of hope for the first time in weeks. If anyone could do it, it was Kaz Brekker. He’d done it once before.

“Maybe.” He sounded noncommittal. “We’ll see.”

Inej grit her teeth. She couldn’t help shooting to her feet, pacing in her furious energy.

“This,” she seethed. “This right here. This is why I stopped writing.”

“Go on,” Kaz frowned. In the torchlight, she could see the muscle in his jaw tick. Good. Maybe there was still emotion in there after all.

“You love to withhold, don’t you?” she growled at him. “Withholding information, withholding money, withholding friendship, withholding love. Sometimes I think you love withholding more than you love kruge.”

“So, you are still thinking about me sometimes,” and a smile began to quirk at the edge of his mouth.

“Stop it,” Inej spat. “I will smack that stupid look right off your face.”

“You do that.” And Inej startled when Kaz pushed off from his side of the dungeon and took three steps towards her. Her breath caught. “Go on,” he was saying, growing closer. “Hit me. You hate me; I know you want to. Stop being so withholding, and hit me.”

It was like he was sucking the wind out of her sails. Every nerve in her body felt as if it was standing on end when he drew near, so near she could feel the warmth of him radiating towards her. She could feel his breath, see his pulse in the sinew of his neck, the way the torchlight cast shadows across the muscle beneath his collarbone. She hated him. She hated him so much. She hated that after all these years and all these other lovers she could still feel this way, still be drawn into his orbit as if no time had passed at all.

He bent his head, and she held her breath. Why wasn’t she moving? Why couldn’t she respond? His head was tilting, and she was staring into the deep wells of his eyes, rimmed in thick lashes. How could someone so cruel have such beautiful eyes?

Then he stopped, his nose inches from her cheek.

“I got tired of your self-righteousness,” he whispered there, and her face burned like never before. He straightened himself once again with that shit-eating smirk, like he’d gotten all the information he needed. Well, so had she.

So she did it.

She smacked him across his bruised jaw, hard enough that his face turned with the blow.

What did it matter? They were dying tomorrow anyway.

But he looked back at her with eyes that burned with something she couldn’t decipher, and she couldn’t think straight. She bit back the apology that was already threatening her lips.

“Better,” he rasped, looking satisfied. He really did prefer not to be ignored.

He turned to limp back to the other side of the dungeon. Inej closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind of the image of him so close to her.

“They took your gloves,” she heard herself say. She wouldn’t apologize, but maybe she wouldn’t ignore him.

“I don’t wear gloves anymore,” Kaz replied, leaning against the stone wall again with a heavy sigh.

This was perhaps the most surprising news all day.

“You don’t?” she said. “How long?”

“Three years, give or take,” Kaz replied. Inej was trying to mentally calculate how long since her last letter when he went on. “Turns out being a twenty four year old virgin is not conducive to maintaining Barrel boss status. Barrel thugs are not particularly open-minded about leadership qualities. I got help. It was that or lose the Dregs.”

“Oh.” Inej had no idea what to say to that. She didn’t particularly like thinking about the boy who’d trembled when he softly kissed her neck having a string of conquests. But then, that wasn’t fair, was it? She hadn’t remained chaste, either.

“Good for you,” she found herself replying. Did she mean it? She supposed she did. This was awkward.

To her surprise, Kaz let out a strange, rasping chuckle.

“What?” She frowned.

“I’d once imagined this conversation with you happening a thousand different ways, but never this one,” he said, dryly. “This particular outcome evaded me.”

“Quite a feat,” Inej remarked. “One point to Fjerda.”

“We’ll see,” Kaz shrugged again, and the only reason she didn’t slap him was because she already had.

“You never would tell me your mind,” she said. “As if, after all we went through, you still couldn’t trust me. And I had tried so hard for so long for your trust, Kaz. That was a brutal realization, the day I understood that about you.”

“It was never a matter of trust.” Kaz glared at her from across the room. “At any given moment, I am thinking of no less than twelve things. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to pick through all of that and determine and communicate the pertinent information to the situation and avoid revealing alarming, possibly irrelevant information that will only upset everyone if I did explain everything happening in my mind? If everyone would just trust me--”

“Oh, so it’s just that you think I’m too stupid to be privy to your mind.” Inej rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s much better.”

“That is not what I said,” Kaz groaned. He rolled his head back to stare at the ceiling, exasperated.

“I don’t want to argue about this.” Inej waved her arms, wildly. “I do not want to spend my last night in the world arguing about this meaningless shit. Saints, you always did this. You could always drag me into the most absurd, infuriating situations--”

“Oh, please,” Kaz rolled his eyes. “You loved it.”

“I absolutely did not--”

“You love it even now.” Kaz gave a careless gesture. “You love it, and you hate that. I see the way you keep looking at me.”

Inej nearly reached for her knives before remembering they’d been taken by Fjerdans.

“I do not like who you’ve become,” she spat at him.

“You have no idea who I’ve become.” Kaz folded his arms over his chest, the crow and cup tattoo rippling over the muscles of his forearm. He smiled, crookedly. “You have no idea what I can do, what I’ve learned, who even I am anymore, and it’s driving you mad. You could be planning your escape right now, and instead you can’t stop arguing with me.”

“Maybe I am planning my escape,” she hissed. She would not – would not – think about what he could do, what he had learned. “Maybe you’re not the only one capable of thinking of more than one thing.”

Kaz narrowed his eyes at her, working his jaw. It took her but a moment to recognize it; it had been so long. He was scheming.

Oh, Saints, save her. She’d missed that look.

“All right, then,” he said at last. “In honor of our last night in the world: I will tell you one full and honest truth. Whatever you want to know.” She opened her mouth. “On one condition.” Of course there was a catch. “I require one truth from you first. What do you say?”

“It’s always a deal with you, isn’t it, Brekker?” She shook her head. “What you are describing is what most people call friendship.”

“But we’re not really friends anymore, are we?” Kaz cocked his head. “I don’t claim to know much about friendship, but I think friends see each other more than once every five years. At best, we’re distant relatives.”

“We are definitely not that.” Inej really hoped he didn’t see her that way.

“We’re whatever you need to tell your lover to make him feel comfortable.” Kaz brushed it away. She’d already forgotten she’d lied to him about a lover. That wasn’t good.

“Well?” Kaz was raising his dark eyebrows at her.

“The deal is the deal,” she said, with a relinquishing shrug.

“Wonderful.” Kaz stepped away from the dungeon wall, his arms still crossed, and leaned towards her. “Did you ever love me?”

“Oh, for Saint’s sake!” Inej threw up her hands. Of all the things he could have asked.

“I suppose you don’t care much to know about the escape plans, then,” Kaz shrugged.

“You withholding son of a bitch. What makes you think I’m going to answer that question?”

“Your avoidance is saying a lot as it is.”

Inej squared back her shoulders, breathing hard in her fury. At least, she thought it was fury. She glared at him, seeing all the traces of that cocksure street rat she couldn’t get enough of once. The one she’d wanted so badly to touch and hold and love. His sharp jawline, his wide shoulders, his soft dark hair. Damn him, damn him. Why couldn’t he have just let her love him then?

She drew in a shaky breath. They were dying tomorrow anyway.

“You were my first love,” she confessed. It hurt her more than she thought it would to say it. Her shoulders slumped a little. “And no matter who else has warmed my bed, you have always held that title in my heart. Letting you go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

Kaz’s lips parted slightly, surprised. He stared at her, the rise and fall of his chest deepening.

“Then why did you?” he asked after a moment. But Inej swallowed hard and slowly shook her head.

“The deal was only one truth,” she said, softly. Her throat felt tight, and her chest hurt. She was not going to risk letting his cool indifference hurt her again.

Kaz looked away, biting the inside of his cheek. He tightened his arms over himself, his biceps swelling. The very picture of what she’d felt from him all those years ago. Guarded. Closed off. Withholding. Beautiful and yet so far out of reach.

“Your question, then,” he said, stiffly.

She should have asked of the escape. She’d been preparing to ask of the escape. Why did he have this kind of power over her still?

“Why didn’t you let me help you?” Her voice was low, and he looked up in surprise. He’d expected her to ask of the escape, too. “The way you sought help three years ago--”

“Give or take,” Kaz interrupted, looking dazed.

“I wanted to help you with all of it,” Inej went on. “You never let me get anywhere near close enough. And I couldn’t – I couldn’t--” She swallowed the lump building in her throat. “I couldn’t waste my life trying to heal someone who didn’t want to be healed. Why didn’t you want to heal?”

“You had been through enough.” Kaz was blinking hard. “You’d spent far too many years overburdened with men’s needs. I wanted to be near you, and I hated myself for wanting to be near you, because you deserved to be free of me. Of everything like me.”

“You let me go, too.” Inej lifted her chin, slightly. She felt relieved to be rid of the burden of guilt, a guilt she hadn’t realized she’d been harboring.

“I thought you might come back.” Kaz’s gaze drifted to the floor. “I hoped you would. You never said you wouldn’t. But months turned into years. You were happier wherever you were, with whomever you’d found. And I tried everything I could think of to get you out of my system. I’ve deprived myself of nothing, of no one I’ve wanted since you. Make no mistake: I wanted to heal.”

“And did you?” Inej’s voice felt like a croak. “Get me out of your system?” She wished she could slow her racing heart.

“The deal was only one truth,” Kaz replied, grating and dark.

And for a long while, the only sound in the dungeon was the monotonous dripping of leaking water, collecting in a pool in the stone. They were each rooted to where they stood, hardly daring to breathe or move. It was as if the air itself around them might shatter if they did.

“Inej.” Kaz spoke first.

“Yes?” Surely, he could hear the way her heart was beating.

“I have lived longer than I thought I would,” Kaz began. She heard him swallow once. “I’ve seen many men die. I am not afraid of death. I have done many things that have warranted it. The only thing I have ever feared is not having enough – of anything, you name it. Please indulge me one last truth.”

“All right.”

“Do you really have a lover?”

Inej was starting to tremble. If she moved now, she could not be sure what she would do next. She wasn’t sure what telling him the truth would do, but she was sure it could not be good. Some vaults are best left locked, she reminded herself again and again. Some vaults are best left locked.

But the pull of his eyes. The desire in his breath. Every longing she’d locked away was pounding at the vault door, demanding release.

They were dying tomorrow anyway.

“No,” she said in a whisper. Oh, what have you done?

And the dam broke. The air shattered. Kaz crossed to her in two swift steps, and she knew she was a goner before he even pulled her into his arms. She was reaching for his jaw, for his hair, pulling his mouth to hers. He made a gasping, growling sound deep in his chest when his lips slid over hers, and her whole body felt alight at the sound. Lips over teeth over tongues, she demanded what she’d too long been denied.

He was shoving her against the stone wall, cold at her back. He held himself up with his bandaged, damaged hand against the wall at the side of her head, and then began slipping his good hand under the hem of her scratchy prison top. She shivered when his bare hand skimmed her waist. She’d wanted this, oh how she’d wanted his hands, for years, and now she could feel every callus, every scar, every nail scraping, raking up her back.

“I hate you for taking so long,” she gasped when she pulled back. She buried her fingers into his hair as his teeth grazed up her neck. One of his hands was trailing down her back, scooping below her ass cheek.

“I hate you for not writing,” he rasped back, and bit her ear. She gasped and took his mouth again, letting him run his tongue along hers. She raked her hands over his shoulders, down the etched muscles of his torso, before dipping her hands underneath. He let go of her only long enough to pull the shirt off over his head, his hair mussed and slipping in his dark eyes. She wrapped her fingers in the hem of her own shirt and ripped it off over her head.

“This is a terrible idea,” she panted. Kaz pressed against her fully, his chest against hers, his hips aligned with hers.

“This is the best idea,” he disagreed, with a shake of his head, and slid one hand up her rib cage, cupping her breast. The bandage of his left hand brushed her jaw; he held her face in one hand and kissed her hard, again and again. She tried to hold back a moan against his lips when he began to draw circles around her nipple with his thumb. And then he was pulling back and working unrelenting kisses down her throat, pulling at the small of her back to lift her body towards him as he bent his head toward her breasts.

Every thought of escape, of gallows, of nooses, of death left her entirely when he began kissing her body, as if every inch of her was exulting in this inevitability. She couldn’t imagine now any other outcome than this. From the moment she’d been thrown into his dungeon, this was always where they were headed.

His hands were slipping below her loose trousers when his mouth returned to hers. Her arms were over his shoulders, her fingers gripping the back of his head, digging into his hair. And then she was sliding them over the slopes of his back muscles, hooking her thumbs into the backs of his trousers. He gave a rueful chuckle against her mouth before he let her help him out of his pants. He tore hers off before pressing against her again – naked and warm in the cold, terrible dark.

And still it wasn’t enough to slake the years of pent up desire he’d now unleashed in her. She wasn’t sure anything could ever be enough. Both hands were trailing her ass now, even with the bandage, and, as she panted through kisses, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He lifted her off the floor into his strong arms, his muscles enveloping her, burying one hand in her hair.

“Don’t stop now,” she huffed. “Then I might actually hate you.”

He gave a wicked laugh as he pushed them both against the wall, balancing her on his good leg. His hand left her hair and dipped between them. She was ready. Saints, she’d been ready for years.

She gasped when he guided his length into her, pressing her harder against stone. He gave a faltering moan, his head dropping to her shoulder, and she arched herself onto him. And he began to move within her, holding her ass with her ankles hooked behind his knees.

“I never got you out of my system,” he rasped, breathing hard against her ear. “It’s not possible. Gods, I’ll never stop wanting you.”

“I never wanted to let you go.” She dug her nails into his back, her head falling back against the wall. “It seemed like it was best for both of us.”

“You were probably right.” His gaze was hazy, his breathing labored with every thrust. “But I still hate it. Inej. Oh, Inej.” He breathed her name like a prayer, kissing her again, biting her lip. She dug her fingers into his hair, pulling, desperate, moaning and arching. He was thrusting frantically, mercilessly, so that she clenched her thighs around him, taking him deeper still. When she did, he broke away from her lips with a gasp, his eyes closing, his lips parting, every muscle tensing. It was the face, Inej realized, she’d imagined with every other lover, a face that drove her to the brink of her own pleasure.

And when his release came, Kaz cried out, shuddering against her, and his grip slipped, their naked, slick bodies staggering against the stone wall. For a moment, they held each other close as they caught their breath, shaking in the dark – Inej with her hands on the back of his neck, Kaz with his hands fitted to the curve of her waist.

“Isn’t there a guard outside?” Inej was suddenly realizing, blinking slowly.

“Probably.” Kaz just shook his head, not caring. “He’s probably having the wank of his life right now.”

“Ugh, Saints,” Inej grimaced, desperately wanting to scrub the image from her mind.

“Not a guard,” came a familiar voice from the other side of the door. Inej dove for her clothes. “But do make yourselves decent. I’m tired of plugging my ears out here, and we’ve got places to go.”

“Ah, Sturmhond.” Kaz was sliding his trousers back on. “You’re really cutting it close on the last-minute-rescue this time.”

“I don’t know, old friend,” Sturmhond replied. “Seems like you had just enough time.”

Inej smacked Kaz in the arm.

“You really couldn’t have just said, ‘Sturmhond’s coming to rescue us’?” she glared.

“I didn’t know for sure,” Kaz said, throwing his shirt back on. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Best to look death square in the face than go to the gallows expecting a rescue.”

“Wow,” Sturmhond sighed. “I’m really just brimming with delight at all this flattery and gratitude. You’re very welcome. It was no trouble at all.”

A key creaked and thudded in the ancient, heavy lock. The door swung open. Sturmhond waited with a sly, insinuating smirk before motioning for them to come along.

Kaz and Inej shared a coy smile and dashed down the hall. A world of possibility awaited.

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #kanej smut #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz + inej #kanej #soc #grishaverse

97 notes · View notes

darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

Text

Winx Club Season 8 Thoughts Part 2

Well, this is it. Last part of the last season (that has come out) and I haven’t even watched any of it (though, I have heard things). Part 1 can be found here.

8x14:

- Why is this opening with a concert scene when literally the second to last scene in the previous episode was a musical number? At least there was that cute Stella and Brandon moment after to make up for it.

- This is actually a legitimate issue but I do not expect the show to handle the fact that Sky has clashing responsibilities on his shoulders well. They’re already implying that it’s more important for him to be a Specialist rather than a prince and that is not true. Eraklyon will suffer without a good king. Though, on the other hand... how good a king would Sky be? Maybe this is better, after all. At least someone actually interested in doing the job can take over.

- They legit made Erendor a lot thinner than he originally was? And somehow ruined his design also. As well as Diaspro’s. Ugh, why is there gonna be drama with her again????????????????? How many times?!?!?! For fuck’s sake! Just let it end!

- Seriously? They’re all blaming Stella for Bloom’s gloom? Stella has the right to talk about her own relationship as well. And when the fuck have Musa and Riven ever talked? Not to mention that now Riven is trying to communicate with her but she doesn’t even want to give him a chance!

- Valtor has become more cringe than he used to be. At least the Trix seem to have become smarter. We didn’t need him to tell us who they were, however. Also, why does he think that they will not use the star for themselves.

- His new powers literally come from stolen star energy and he just said that stars are made from the sparks that witch and fairy magic are also made of. Aka his magic should be compatible with that of Winx and the Trix as well.

- Oh, great! Now they belong to him. They really didn’t have to make season 8 Valtor a Darkar 2.0 and yet, they thought it was a good idea. I just... nggggggh!

- The Wishing Star... is a woman? And wait, what... They’re saying that Valtor is over a 1000 years old now? Yeah, ‘cause a 1000-year-old sorcerer/demon will totes lose against a bunch of high-schoolers. Makes fucking sense.

- How did Stormy summon an asteroid field?

- What... the hell just happened? Don’t tell me the Star made herself fall apart in the different colors of the color spectrum and they’ll need to gather all of them in the stupid star-shaped box!

- Twinkly is back on Lumenia? Did we really need her back? And why is the star-shaped box chasing her?

- If I were Sky, I probably would be scared to tell Bloom that it is Diaspro texting. She can have terrible reactions to just the thought of Diaspro. Though, to be fair I have no idea why Sky keeps speaking to Diaspro. He has every right to just cut her off completely after what she did in seasons 3 and 6.

- Brandon, you know very well who Diaspro is! And no, I don’t care that they are giving a really crashing crash course to the new audience. This is terrible! Also, you have to love how Sky didn’t even think about calling Erendor to ask about the mission. He just took Diaspro’s word for it. Because she is sooooo trustworthy.

- I was almost right. Instead of colors they are going to be collecting Prime Stars instead. I still got the right idea, though. It is a bit... lame.

- Enchantix looks a lot less elegant and a lot more... second-hand fabric sewn together poorly. Also, I hate the fact that they had the transformation song from the first movie and not the original. And they basically used the same sequence as the one for Sirenix but they are only popping their Enchantix on instead.

- “I didn’t think it would be so easy.” Same! Finding that Compass was the easiest thing ever and it doesn’t matter that things will get heated now that the Trix are here because the Compass didn’t pose a challenge of its own.

8x15:

- I am living for the dramatic opening of this episode.

- Why aren’t the rest of Winx covering Bloom so that she can grab the Compass? Five against the Trix should be enough for her to take it.

- Really? You can’t figure out who freed them? I love that they told Bloom to ask herself. That was great!

- I was getting excited that Valtor showed up but it was just an illusion of Darcy’s. Anyway, the question that came to me involves the Trix as well so... How come they followed Winx in the box since Winx needed to use Enchantix to miniaturize?

- So it turns out that it wouldn’t have been so easy to take the Compass even though it looked that way in the beginning.

-Tecna!!!!!!!!!!!! What Musa is hearing is the key to getting the Compass, you idiot! It is important and not something to leave for later!

- They’re just gonna chase after it without paying attention to what the voice told them? Fucking amazing! And Bloom is sending her Dragon after it? I am so glad that this is not working!

- Lmaooooo @ Layla catching Bloom in a baseball glove. XD

- Why are they so fucking dumb? The whole thing is controlled by the notes Musa heard SINCE IT’S A FUCKING MUSIC BOX, NOT LIKE THERE’S MUCH TO IT! and they just need to figure out the pattern. That’s what they were told. “Only the one who listens” Come on!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- I love the spells they’re using, though. They seem to be more creative with their powers here and it is actually interesting enough to distract from their zero comprehension skills and abilities to make deductions.

- Oh, I love the balance thing in the labyrinth! And the Compass hitting Icy on the head was just priceless! But why are you so rude to Stormy, Icy? Don’t be like that.

- Yes, you will make the same mistakes because you are still not FUCKING listening goddammit!!!!!!!!!

- Oh, come on! Don’t tell me Bloom will be the one solving this!

- Good! It was actually Musa that fixed the whole thing. I still cannot make sense of the musical theme of this challenge in-verse but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be so I’m gonna close my eyes for that.

- Why didn’t they try to capture the Trix or something? They just let them go.

- Arken got this right in no time at all and knew it had been Valtor who had freed the Trix. Why is he the only one thinking?

- Is Valtor really going to try to pit the Trix against each other once again? God, please, tell me that they will not be falling for that this time! It is ridiculous!

- Why would Wizgiz be in a trashcan? And they just destroyed the entire classroom looking for him while I suspect he is actually truly just running late... Yep, got that right.

- Don’t tell me Bloom will see Sky with Diaspro at Red Fountain! He’s supposed to be on a mission, not at school!... Oh, good. He’s not there. But why is Bloom weeping? He is on a secret mission! It may endanger the job, him or anyone that knows anything to reveal details! Can she just not be a baby for 3 seconds?

8x16:

- HE’S ON A MISSION! HE MIGHT BE TIED UP!!!!!!! CHILL FOR A FEW MINUTES!!!

- Diaspro is actually climbing? She could just fly! But I guess they didn’t want to draw her fairy form. Don’t tell me they’re retconning her being a fairy! I will smack someone if that’s true!

- She legit threw herself off the rocks just to make sure Sky wouldn’t text Bloom? Crazy much? What if he hadn’t managed to catch you? Girl, you need some perspective! Sky is so not worth this.

- Griffin looks and sounds horrible. And why the actual hell is she exactly as tall as Faragonda?!?!?!?! She used to be half a head taller!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Disguise? You call that disguise? You changed your goddamn hair color!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And what is worse - IT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How did Stella not recognize them? You’d think that she will when she is supposed to be such an expert on fashion and makeovers! And this didn’t even have magic involved in it! (they could have changed their hair without magic is what I’m saying)

- Wait, they actually extended the Cosmix song? Is that new or did I just not notice because I’ve been skipping the transformation sequence?

- I LOVE Griffin and Faragonda’s opening! They are both showcasing the fact that they’re opposites and also being the dramatic bitches that they are and I am so here for it! Yes, this is everything I have wanted (if only it could have been in the old art style).

- The plants won’t speak to Flora? I actually like the fact that they have to work all together AND it is not convergence! This is more like it!

- No! I don’t want the Trix fighting because of Valtor again!

- Why is Stormy playing twister? XD But I love the implication that there are different tests given to anyone who enters but they all require teamwork! That is awesome! Just, please, make something good with it!

- I just thought that Winx were really gonna beat the Trix with a lot this time but it turned out they are not paying attention to their colors! This is kinda like the finale of season 2, except it doesn’t feel as dumb for some reason. Maybe because Stella is just as useful as everyone else.

- Another game? I actually like this? There is the need for logic to be applied here.

- I wish the Trix would just stop fighting! Well, it’s just Icy and Darcy. Stormy is being calm and thinking! I honestly thought that their portal would close while they were fighting but it sucked them in instead.

- They’re gonna be having more fun with the spheres again. Just like with the Compass, I have a feeling there is a catch here.

- Wait, what did Darcy do? Weren’t they supposed to work together? How did she figure that out on her own? That didn’t make sense but okay.

- I love how Valtor is actually gonna fuck himself over because he is trying to make the Trix fight but in order to find the Prime Stars they’ll need to collaborate. This is some delicious irony!

- And Winx found it!

- If I were Diaspro, I would actually have a fake map at the very least instead of a heart of me and Sky on the parchment. If he takes one look, he’ll know she’s deceiving him!

8x17:

- They’re having a test about their biggest insecurities in the episode in which they’ll be looking for the Prime Star of Confidence? And why are these things always about Stella? The Gem of Confidence back in season 5 was also on Solaria and she was the one to get it. Also, I am not thrilled about the fact that they will be pushing each star on a single girl from now on since there are six more to get after the first one that they had to get through teamwork.

- Musa’s biggest insecurity is making mistakes? They could have done something that would speak about why she is so unwilling to get back with Riven but no. Instead Bloom’s biggest insecurity is about Sky because of course it is! God forbid she has something else on the brain!

- Why are we doing the Stella and her parents’ divorce again? And in the exact same old way we have already seen it back in seasons 1 through... about 5? Issues evolve! They could have put a new spin on it!

- How is making a dress going to solve this?

- At least Stella asked for help after she figured out she can’t do it on her own! And I always love seeing Tecna and Stella moments! Stella and Musa are good too!

- We’ve seen that dress already. Stella wore it in season 6. Come on, writers!

- Ah, I see. Stella is trying to please both her parents and is not being herself aka not being confident. Fucking fantastic.

- I think Stella and Stromy passed because they were the first ones to do so and the challenge accepted them as contenders. So now they are separated form the rest because they have to handle it on their own.

- Awww, poor Stella! I think that kids of divorced parents are not the only ones that can relate to her problems! This is so heartbreaking!

- I am getting some bad vibes from Stormy over here, though... Oh. No. She actually totally rocked this because she has confidence in herself and her sisters! That was pretty awesome!

- Woooooo, the Trix actually got the second star? And they left with it?! They are actually making this interesting????? I cannot believe it!

- I absolutely love how both Winx and Stella’s parents showed her how much they love her. And Luna and Radius are not fighting! *wipes away tear* Beautiful!

8x18:

- Bloom is so not here. And Palladium really chose her even though she is distracted after Stella would injure herself because she was so eager to do the potion? Fuck you, show!

- Well, he got what was coming for him! XD And Stella got the last word. Yes, I stan that!

- Damn! I’d completely forgotten about Twinkly. And I could have had that continuing but they had to bring her back.

- If Bloom doesn’t lose her shit over the unicorns and finally stops thinking about Sky, I will be so mad. They already gave her the unicorn obsession! They are obliged to put it to good use at the very least!

- Aaaaand cringe! They had to bring back “starsome” as well.

- Oh, god. They really retconned the fact that Diaspro is a fairy, didn’t they? Otherwise, why would they give her a gadget to fly? Also, please, don’t tell me that they’re at the same place that the Winx are.

- Well, the unicorn lumens seem to imply that they’re at the same place that Bloom and the Winx are.

- See? This is why you need an actual fake map instead of just a doodle of you and Sky! Now he found out! Love how it took him a while to grasp the fact that there is no medallion as well. And wasn’t that a pendant the first time they spoke of it?

- I honestly thought he would let the lumens handle Diaspro but he didn’t. I can’t say if I’m disappointed or impressed. Or kinda both.

- At least Winx missed Diaspro and Sky and the drama that would have started. Thank everything sacred!

- So that’s what Twinkly was for. To make sure Winx don’t have to fight the other lumens. But the Trix will probably have to so that will give Winx an advantage. Just don’t tell me this will stretch for over an episode.

- I loved the way Layla was holding Stella bridal style... right until she threw her to the ground. Dammit, Layla! Be a little more patient! You know how Stella is. And you don’t have to risk breaking all her bones!

- Well, what luck that there are exactly six unicorns. I would be a little worried about Stella’s outfit because that is what allows her to travel through space. So what if it doesn’t work when it’s damaged? But damn, they’re really trying to stretch this to take up two episodes! After they retconned Stella already being a cowgirl as we’ve seen in season 1.

- Poor Stella! She has a fear of heights and her unicorn seems to be an asshole for no reason.

- Why are Sky and Diaspro still there? At least Sky is actually not letting her get away with everything just like that this time. But Diaspro’s arguments are stupid.

- THAT’S “him”? A black uni-pegasus? It looks evil but it probably isn’t. *sigh* And why didn’t Sky just fly up when he faced that rock? It would have ended eventually and he could have passed above it!

- Oh, come on! The drama will be in the next episode and that is why they were stretching out this one? W.H.Y?????? Also, how is Sky flying in the synopsis for the next ep if he broke his flying gadget? Don’t tell me he actually gets Diaspro’s and they leave her there to sulk while they go get the star? (That might actually be the one good thing coming out of all this.)

8x19:

- Of course, Bloom would fly right into Diaspro! (Well, Diaspro was screaming for help but still).

- What happened with Sky? The black unicorn was about the blast him into oblivion at the end of the previous episode but now he somehow got away? And how did Diaspro get there as well? He left her on a much smaller rock island.

- Well, of course, the black unicorn isn’t evil even though he’s just been trying to kill two people. Didn’t I tell you so?

- Ah, so Tecna fixed Sky’s gadget. I thought that would be the other option to fix it.

- I was just gonna say that the horn of the black unicorn looked chipped. Poor guy. They actually made it understandable that he was so mad.

- And Bloom is absolutely exploding. I can understand that she would be angry Sky didn’t tell her and hid the truth from her. But that was not what she was mad about. She was mad that he even WENT on the mission which is stupid because, for all she knows, it could totally be an official mission ordered by his father.

- I knew it! I knew the black unicorn would pick Diaspro. Except, I have zero idea why the hell he would do that. Why, after being hurt? Diaspro is not the most polite person and he saw that for himself. Wtf, writers? I could understand it if Diaspro had been like she was in season 2. But this?!?!?!?! And that was just,.. there? Like, there was nothing more to it. Just a loose end. We didn’t even get to see what happened with Diaspro.

- At least Bloom and Sky are actually talking about the hiding things issue. I have to say, though, that I can’t fully support Bloom because Sky is right. She freaks out over just hearing Diaspro’s name which, again, would have been a totally reasonable reaction considering Diaspro brainwashed Sky if they hadn’t COMPLETELY IGNORED THAT FACT AND PRETENDED IT HAD NEVER HAPPENED. Bloom is not mad because of how much Diaspro has hurt them both but because she doesn’t believe Sky will keep choosing her if Diaspro is around. And this is an issue SHE has to work on.

- The Trix are still bickering. But at least they look a lot more competent in this season. But did they all really think that Stormy wouldn’t have her dramatic ass entrance? If I could summon thunderstorms, I definitely would for making my entrance. Just saying.

- Layla’s morphix bubble was so powerful! I love!

- Wait, Sky and Icy will be fighting for the Prime Star while Bloom was left looking at them disappearing after she stopped her own fall like she should be able to do instead of having to be saved despite being able to fly? Wow. This is getting interesting.

- I should have known they would fuck it up! They should have left Sky and Icy to fight it out instead of having Bloom go in there and “trust” Sky to get himself out of a cage that wasn’t even closing in on him? She could have just went after Icy and freed him after she was done. There was no immediate danger for him. There was no reason for their great trust.This scene had so much damn potential and they wasted all of it. Great going!

- Why is there a musical number when the only public is the landscape (okay, and the lumens and unicorns)? This was so unnecessary. We got it that they trust each other now. Stop driving nails in our heads.

8x20:

- Dammit! I thought that they would head to Linphea right after the unicorn realm. But they’re back at Alfea? And since when is Griselda teaching about plants? That was always Palladium’s job! Wtf?!?!?!

- You’d think they already know all of this about plants considering that Butterflix was a GODDAMN NATURE TRANSFORMATION!

- Griselda is cutting them slack because of saving the universe? Yeah, right.

- How long will Stormy keep bragging about getting the Prime Star? They act like that’s the only thing she ever did. Also, why is she so hung up on being the one to bring Valtor the Prime Star? Her test was legit about her standing up to him (which went over too easily considering Valtor is supposed to have control over them since he even put his mark on them but that did not appear in the vision for a second in order to make it actually complex or something).

- Well, Miele looks younger than she used to in season 7 but they didn’t totally reverse her back into a kid. Yet, it’s stupid that they are still having the argument of “this is too dangerous for you” after season 7 and her saving them. Besides, Flora should know damn well that Miele will follow. She always does! It’s like the writers have no idea who Miele is if they aren’t having her following secretly and proving that it is not too dangerous for her to go.

- They can’t use magic in the forest? Come again? This is such bullshit. It has never been the case on Linphea. I hate it.

- Why do they have to do ballet to open a stupid gate? But I love the fact that Darcy made illusions of them to perform the dance and let the Trix pass as well. She was using her head. And her magic in a really cool way. Plus, it would have been OOC to have the Trix dancing ballet. Can you imagine? XD

- So we’re learning to plant seeds and water flowers? Since when is this one of those shows that are for ages 0-3?

- Is that... a carnivore radish or something? And yeah, Flora, that totally doesn’t look aggressive!

- When is Flora gonna stop treating Miele like she’s three after all the times she’s proven herself (I don’t care if this is a soft reboot)? Though, Miele would have been more convincing if she hadn’t thrown a tantrum and then started crying much like toddlers do.

- Of course, Darcy will use Miele. That was so damn obvious. Love how Miele didn’t even get to transform. Honestly, at this point I am not even sure whether I want Winx or the Trix to get this Prime Star. They’re all being annoying and I don’t care enough for either side to root for their victory.

- Now you’re taking Miele with? When she can’t move? Fucking sound logic!

- Ooh, I guessed that that was actually Darcy disguised as Miele a few seconds before she revealed herself. But if I were Flora, it might have been enough to regain the advantage.

- Darcy just left Miele sleeping out there in the forest? Not that evil. She could have done something much worse.

- What, Layla? Like none of you ever got tricked?

- They are really playing it as if this was Miele’s fault? Man, this season is really starting to waste opportunities which is really annoying because they actually have interesting premises. They just need to do better during the execution.

- At least I hope that Stormy will shut up about recovering a Prime Star now that Darcy has done the same. Ironic how Icy is the only one that hasn’t managed yet. But I suppose that she will also recover one for a 3 on 4 with Winx and a final battle turned cooperation for the usage of the Prime Stars.

8x21:

- At least Griselda is back to self-defense classes. Though, why the hell is she teaching them deflection spells? They should know those already! They had that lesson in season 2! And why are Knut and Kiko assisting her? Kiko has been sidelined with Knut all season! It feels like he’s not Bloom’s bunny anymore!

- Why does this show hate Kiko so much and has him getting hurt all the time? At least Bloom caught him when he got catapulted. But poor Griselda. I have to say that this is her most OOC moment yet. And she even let them go again. She didn’t have to end the entire class, though. She could have kept going with the rest of the students but once again, the world revolves around Winx.

- You want Riven to SHOW his feelings? Which he has been doing ever since he came back so, like, ALL FUCKING SEASON?!?!?!?! WOW. Fuck you, Musa!

- Whyyyy did they think the Trix wouldn’t show up on Melody? But I am glad we skipped the obligatory Valtor scene because it is unnecessary.

- Galatea doesn’t look too much like herself.

- Bullshit. Stella made them much better outfits when they went to Magix in season 3. And there were other designs that were better than these that, frankly, look pretty bland.

- Sooooo... Musa, the fairy of music, isn’t going to be in the dance competition? Are they trying to level up things? And are you seriously telling me that the Trix are going to dance? Ugh, what the hell?!

- Awwwww, look at Riven! He really wants to try and he is even opening up to the guys about his relationship problems. I love it! Idk what Musa’s stupid problem is.

- This dance competition is so dead. You can only hear Galatea. The public isn’t cheering. But aww, at Bloom catching Stella when she got yeeted off the dance floor. That was really cute.

- I guess competitiveness can make even the Trix dance. It doesn’t change the fact that the competition is still fucking dead! And their dancing feels so arhythmical and slow. The music is fucking dull and practically non-existent.

- Ho-boe doesn’t feel like himself either. And doesn’t the house look so different as well? Also, did they ever do anything that doesn’t involve music? I know they’re a musical family but they must have done something else as well!

- Tecna is killing it! But Stormy’s abundance of energy seems to give her a big advantage here. Though, I still love how confident Tecna was! I have to say that this would have been absolutely epic if the music had been intense enough to match their moves. Why did they have to do these scenes so dirty by barely having any tune to them?! If I’m watching a dance competition, I want it to be good!

- Musa and her dad are talking about Riven? And there is a Riven and Darcy confrontation?!?!?!

- Scratch that! They fucked it up in 0.3 seconds! Are you serious? This is literally Riven and Darcy’s first meeting ever since they broke up in season 1 and THIS is how it goes?! She hypnotizes him to use against Musa?!?!?! I hate this! At least let this be the end of their stupid drama.

- Why did the synopsis of the next episode instantly spoil that Stormy will win the fifth Prime Star? You just revealed all the surprise there will be next ep! Man, they really don’t know how to advertise, do they? Also, this dance battle is really stretching over two episodes?

8x22:

- Now all I wanna do is write a fic in which Darcy gets really violent and there are heavy consequences after Riven’s fight with Musa.

- Wait! “...rough and soothing combine artfully and that perfect sound will yield the Star of Harmony”? And the harp that Ho-Boe says needs to be played by two people? That’s gonna be Musa and Riven, isn’t it? And they’ll get the star which will be the twist and that is why they spoiled Stormy wins in the teaser at the end of the last episode.

- Thank you, Musa! It took you long enough! He is so obviously spelled. Though, I kinda love how Darcy was there like “You can’t resist”. This could be so dark if it weren’t a kids show. And now I wanna write it!

- Dammit, Musa! You have your stupid Enchantix in this season! Use your goddamn fairy dust! Or any other kind of magic! And you’re really so damn surprised that it is Darcy?! It was obvious!

- That was the big idea? That Riven is “finally” proving his feelings by refusing to hurt her? Gee. And that’s how the battle between Riven and Musa and Darcy is going to go down? With some stupid formless monsters?

- Well, of course, Bloom beat Icy. But I suspect that Layla is gonna lose against Stormy so it doesn’t matter much.

- You’re now starting to get used to fighting alongside Riven even though he’s been gone a year and they were together for 4 years before that and fought together for about 5-6 years? Really? And that was the big battle with Darcy? They all had about 3 movements!

- Why is Bloom still in this? They should have given us Layla vs Stormy! We know Layla is the best at dancing (or tied with Musa).

- Why doesn’t Ho-Boe know how they met? They used to date for years before Riven left!

- When have you ever felt harmony in your relationship, Riven? Don’t start lying now! And why does he know how to play the harp? I saw this coming but it still kinda doesn’t make sense!

- Finally! The Layla vs Stormy dancing duel we deserved! And the music is more lively now! At last!

- Oh, come on! That’s how Stormy beat Layla?! By distracting her?!?!?! I wanted it to be a fair fight. And why the hell is there goo or jello or whatever falling on Layla? This is terrible. You wouldn’t catch me taking part in that dancing contest. Not to mention that they competed in vain. Although, it was a nice touch to have them misinterpret the riddle.

- Okay, but Riven is definitely not the rough part in that “rough and soothing” combo. He has been nothing but amazing all season while Musa has been pouting and whining!

- The sad thing is that the Trix would have gotten the star if Stormy hadn’t blabbed to Layla where Darcy was. But her cheating came back to bite her in the ass.

- It would have been nice if Musa had saved Riven instead of having Bloom melt him.

- Oh, Riven is a part of the band now? But seriously, will we ever see them talking? Like, actually communicating which is always where their problems lie? Of course not. Why would that be important?

- They’re really saying that Layla is more impulsive than Bloom? Yeah, fuck that big time! Also, don’t tell me that the last star will be obtained by all six Winx again and that is why they will be combining Tecna and Layla in the next ep. Or even worse - by Winx and the Trix together.

8x23:

- “An ounce more or less won’t matter”? That is so not like Layla! It is more like Stella and even Bloom! What the hell? I hate what they’re doing just to set up their stupid conflict for this episode!

- Okay, that shot with the Trix sitting all over Valtor’s throne was pretty cool! And I actually like the fact that he is not exploding at them about the fact that their last mission failed. That was a nice change of pace! Also, digging Darcy and Stormy taking over the throne and the way Valtor is collecting the Prime Stars when he doesn’t have the box. It is... symbolic.

- Be my guest, Flora, and get between Stella and her tanning!

- Reasonable question, Stella! I was also gonna ask why the hell there are corals on dry land. And the Compass is going all crazy.

- Oh, goodie! Hawaiian lumens. In case we’d forgotten about the first half of the season. Which I honestly had.

- Bloom, you really have no other choice but to split up because Tecna and Layla will kill each other otherwise. And yes, Stella sure doesn’t sound distracted now. Only panicky and possibly on the verge of becoming hysterical over the volcano.

- You mean, this isn’t Valtor creating the lava gollems? At least it’s implied that there is one for each girl so the split-up doesn’t put them at a disadvantage.

- Poor Stella, being used as bait. And they just made more of the monsters. I guess her shining personality is not going to be enough to spare the others the notice.

- Did Valtor actually say “boo”? Wow, okay.

- How is a shell the symmetry between light and shadow? It is on the land and not halfway between land and sea! This was absolute bullshit! Meanwhile, Stella and Bloom are getting overwhelmed back there at the volcano against six opponents!

- Valtor cut in just in time! I thought his presence would have been useless. But he upgraded to adapt to his “inability” to touch the Prime Stars even though the source of his magic is literally stars in this season!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I just cannot even anymore.

- Yeah, and this bullshit choice again between two things that are important. We’re using this for the third time in ten episodes! Really need to come up with something else over here.

- And we didn’t even see Bloom and Stella really do anything. This episode is put together in a horrible way. Plus, how the fuck are you getting in a volcano that is already erupting! I would have loved for Bloom to use her Dragon Fire here because at least that would have made sense instead of this bullshit we got!

- At least we got that cute Layla and Tecna hug!

8x24:

- Tecna turning into a sheep seemed OOC. And Flora choosing a tiger? Why didn’t she just stop chasing after “Stella” when she saw she was scaring the poor thing? That was unnecessary.

- Stella skipped classes to write homework? And why the hell did Wizgiz give everyone homework when it was obvious that they didn’t know about Stella’s deception?

- Icy could have played that *dramatic pause* cooler. She was being obviously panicky about going to Diamond. She’s better at pretending than this. And her keeping a crystal flower? Waaaay OOC. I don’t care if it is about her dead/lost sister which they totally pulled out of nowhere to make her “relatable”.

- Shouldn’t Sky have asked if he can come along instead of just tail them? He can help resolve things faster... or he can become the reason for their defeat.

- The architecture on Diamond looks kinda... Russian (which would make sense if they’re trying to parallel Siberia with the frozen land). But I am dying at the idea of Icy being Russian. XD

- What trees, Bloom? Where did you see trees? Everything is deep frozen!

- Don’t tell me that fox is Icy’s sister. That will be too dumb.

- Well, of course Bloom doesn’t like Icy’s home planet. How could she? That would have been too mature a notion for the writers. After all, she must hate everything icy.

- What temper? That fox has legit not done anything. Also, it has got to have something to do with Icy. Look at its eyes! And now Icy is attacking Stormy because of it?

- Aaaaand now we’re getting a flashback. You have to love how they made it look like Icy is the little sister when she’s not, And I hate how they made her younger and “untainted” self so different! Like, dammit, a tragic backstory does change you but you need to keep something from your core personality! She is being a totally different person and this totally came out of nowhere! I hate it!

- Took Sky long enough to catch up. Why is he the one saving the fox? And Icy totally went nuts here. This is more like her but still... the dissonance between season 1 and this... Why?

- I knew he was gonna fuck up this whole thing.

- Damn, the fox is looking so lovingly at Icy. It might as well be her sister. But it may just be one of those foxes we saw that isn’t aging because of the ice that appears to be magical. I still can’t decide what they’re doing here.

- Why the fuck do they need Sirenix? But I have to say that Crystal Sirenix (which they totally just made up here because that was never actually a thing and would have been nice to have been mentioned when Daphne was using elemental magic in season 6 since she is the Nymph of Sirenix) looks better than ordinary Sirenix. Except for the... capes? The animators need to consult Edna Mode!

8x25:

- Sky is actually fine? Well, in the very real danger of drowning but still fine-r than I thought he would be. Sky, think about yourself. Bloom is not the one that is this fucking close to dying!

- Aaaaand... she saved him. He wasn’t even underwater that long! Why wasn’t he waking up?! Man, the Dragon Fire healing is getting annoying.

- Yes, spend time together while putting yourself in mortal danger. Sounds like fun times! You can even be buried together!

- Sky is supposed to be a Specialist aka capable of handling himself. And how many times is Tecna gonna be fixing his gear? Though, I am at least glad that Icy’s first instinct was to damage his flying gadget.

- So the fox is her sister. Fucking great! Why are they alone and talking about leaving? Where the fuck are their parents? Also, how does that fit in with the fact that the Trix are descendants of the Ancestral Witches?

- Firing all my thoughts here at high velocity: Who the fuck is that? We don’t get a name? Fucking splendid! Why is Sapphire still transformed? Icy is super powerful at this point and if the Shaman Witch is so powerful, why the hell hasn’t she conquered any other realm? Why does she need a whole planet that is completely frozen? Where is she now? What the fuck is up with all of this? And what happened to Icy’s mother? Was Icy a witch all along? Her being so “obedient” in that flashback is so totes OOC. I hate all of this. And we didn’t need the parallel between Bloom and Icy.

- Icy saying that the Trix are “friends maybe” and the the only real sister she has is Sapphire? Worst moment of the whole season! How fucking dare you?! I never thought that they were related by blood but that didn’t mean that they weren’t sisters!

- Yes, Stormy, tell everyone else (aka Winx) where you are! Or bury all three of you in an avalanche. Such planning! Much consideration!

- Icy, stop being a wimp! Yes, this is all hard but she is not behaving like herself at all! You need to get it together if you want to help your sis, girl! And how do you plan on getting the power to save your sister without the Star to bring to Valtor?

- Why is the Star going in the box? Oh, it’s not. But I hate the implication that only “sisterly” love can get the Star. Icy has been sisters with Darcy and Stormy since season 1 and Winx are all like sisters as well! Fuck that! Also, why is it that this one could have only been earned by two blood sisters? That means that Winx didn’t have the chance to take it at all! This is really stupid!

- The Trix are free now? How did that happen? And Sapphire is back aga- Oh, wait, no! Wtf????? Do they even know what they’re doing anymore? This is becoming such a mess! And why is the finale only one episode long when we wasted two episodes on 3-4 of the Stars? This is stupid!

8x26:

- What the fuck are these things? “Brothers from the Dark Dimension”? What the absolute honest genuine fuck? Why have these things never been introduced if they have always been a part of his plan? What the fuck, writers? You just sent the whole structure of the season to hell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How was any of this a good decision?!?!?!?!

- The Trix just showed up at Alfea? And Kiko is beating them single-pawed-ly? Why? But I like the idea of the Trix at Alfea.

- Oh, it was actually Winx. This is part of the plan for beating Valtor, isn’t it? Damn, I was just getting hyped that the Trix decided to work with Winx to fix this whole mess and make sure Valtor won’t trap them again once they disobey.

- Is Icy going to give him the star? Oh, no. She wants to challenge him to get the other Stars. Goddammit! But I love how excited Darcy is about getting to explore more of her illusion powers! Also, Icy both being grateful that they’re with her but telling them to save themselves if things get rough? THAT HUG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stormy was so ready to cry! Ugh, that was so amazing! Almost enough to make up for the bullshit they said about them not being sisters!

- They didn’t feel it? That was like a goddamn earthquake!

- I have a question, though. Why didn’t the Trix try to take on Winx? That implies that Valtor is weaker than Winx. But at least the Winx’ plan is actually pretty good.

- Why isn’t Stella Darcy, Layla Icy and Musa Stormy? They could have covered if they needed to use their powers! Stella could have dimmed the light as if Darcy is using her darkness powers. And the other could have pretended to be Stormy and Icy as well!

- Okay, but Winx’ voices are still the same! Why can’t Valtor tell that it’s not them? He’s literally so not paying attention and they fucked up with the spell because it is incomplete!

- And now the plan went to hell because Bloom decided to crash the party! Great going! So it was all for nothing.

- Now Valtor is back in his demon form? That was a curse his mothers put on him and Bloom destroyed that form in 3x26! But at least the remake looks better than the original!

- Why would Valtor destroy the universe? Where is he gonna go after that? Also, what the fuck? You’re making this Icy’s motivation?!?!?! For helping the Winx?!?!?!?!?!?! THE TRIX LITERALLY WERE ABOUT TO DESTROY THE MAGIC UNIVERSE IN SEASON 1 AND IT WAS THEIR ORIGINAL PLAN! NOW SHE’S LIKE “I WON’T WATCH ANOTHER WORLD GET DESTROYED”???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? FUCK ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Is it only me or does this really remind of 3x25? Because the writers were probably trying to cash in even more nostalgia?

- If they don’t bring Icy’s world back, it will be really stupid because that was why she was even doing any of all this (according to this whole season).

- They wished for a power-up? I’m sorry, a power-up driven by how noble they are? The bullshit is unreal. I cannot even.

- No one cares about all the lumens! They should have given the Trix something for their trouble after all of this bullshit and used the screen time in a better way.

- OH, COME ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY GET A CONSTELLATION NOW?!?!?!?!? THEY WOULD HAVE NEVER WON WITHOUT THE TRIX WHO WERE LEFT WITH A BIG DAMN ZERO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (except for being freed, that is)

- In my book this is the absolute worst finale this show has ever had! It contradicted everything we know about certain characters as well as events from previous seasons, had a theme that sucked completely and had Winx make a seemingly selfless wish that actually seems super shady, gave them glory they do not deserve, introduced a new plot point at the beginning of the very last episode, fucked over the Trix (or at least Icy), did not tie up their loose ends and just completely failed to be thrilling in any way because everything was upside down! I cannot even.

This season started out so well. The first three episodes were extremely promising and had the writers kept their streak, this season could have risen to the levels of the first seasons or even surpassed them. However, things quickly started derailing. First, just lightly and then totally going off the rails. The two halves of the season felt super disconnected, the villain plan sucked, Valtor was destroyed as a character (and as a villain) and the Trix were just... what happened there? The new backstory Icy was given was dreadful because of how much it contradicted what we know about all three of the Trix and it destroyed their sense of unity by obviously placing the narrative emphasis on her not just as the leader but as the one that is most important of the three. The second half got stupider and stupider until it reached a finale that just didn’t logic in any correct way. There was so much wasted potential here that it is unreal. Season 7 had nothing going on but it did not enrage me as much as this one (and especially the last few episodes) because there wasn’t so much absolute waste of perfectly good opportunities. Season 6 retains it’s place as the worst season in my book but the end of season 8 annoyed me enough to make me feel like I could put it over season 7 for worst of the series.

20 notes · View notes

8requiems · 3 years

Text

A Webcomic Review of “Garden Club Detective Squad”:

Oh God Oh Fuck did someone just die?

By: 8Requiems

The Description:

“Gardening and solving crime aren’t what straight-A student Yeon Han thought she would be focusing on at her new school. But when she discovers a notebook that contains clues to a 15-year-old murder mystery, she and the other members of her new gardening club realize the murderer not only has access to the school -- they probably work for the school. Can the gardening club squad figure out who committed the murder even though the principal and their teachers seem desperate to cover it up?”

Now, this description is quite detailed, maybe a bit too detailed.

This comes down to personal preference, but personally, I don’t like seeing the plot in thorough detail before reading the story, especially if it is a mystery.

If it were me, I would write the description as:

“In her attempt to not become a backwater girl, Yeon Han eventually decides to become the President of the Gardening Club. But she’ll soon realize that maybe she might have bitten off more than she could chew”

This description may be a bit rudimentary, but it shows an idea of what my ideal description for this webtoon would be.

It says just enough about the story while also leaving enough to imagination. But the current description at present shows what the first 3-4 chapters are. Had the description not even mentioned the teachers, I probably wouldn’t have considered they were trying to cover anything up to begin with.

That being said, I did read chapters 1-3 of the webtoon blind. And I have to say, I didn’t expect the unassuming colorful cover of this Webtoon to show such menacing and dark panel off-rip.

(A panel from the first scene in Chapter 1)

But, let us familiarize ourselves with the cast, shall we?

Characters:

Yeon Han - The Brain:

Yeon is an honor student who moved outside of Seoul, presumably due to not having enough money to stay. Despite this turn of events, she doesn’t want to become a “backwater girl”. For the sake of her academic record, she decides to settle on becoming the class president. But her peers are just amused at how cocky she was despite being new to the school.

(A panel in the middle of Chapter 2 ^)

When that fails, she decides to settle on becoming the president of an after school club. But forget becoming president, they wouldn’t even allow her to join on the basis that she is too qualified. BRO, THE LITERATURE DISCUSSION CLUB HAS THREE MEMBERS. ONE INCLUDING A BODYPILLOW FOR FUCK SAKES. Part of me wanted to laugh but part of me also felt insulted for her.

I expected her character to be the “genius that finds a niche that she enjoys compared to other activities they would usually dominate at”, but she is already fed up with how hard gardening actually is. Not to mention the amount of faculty and students who ask favours from her.

It was a very pleasant surprise, because now I can rightfully assume that while she works on her cases, she might pick up skills from the gardening club. Dare I say, she actually comes to appreciate and enjoy it as a hobby? I guess only time will tell, as this is still a very new Webtoon, with 12 Chapters out as of this review’s conception.

The one thing I have on my mind at the moment, is if her range of skills she currently has will be useful when tackling the murder case.

Whether or not that is the case, I have high hopes for her as a character.

Mirim Shin - The Spiritual:

Although I said I have high hopes for Yeon, I think Mirim is my favorite character. As the daughter of a priest, she is in tune with her spirituality on a whole other level compared to her club mates.

An interesting tidbit about her is that she decided to practice all forms of faith before her baptism. I can only assume it’s so she could have an idea of what could have been, before deciding to lock in on one specific faith.

Honestly, I genuinely didn’t expect for her to say something like this, not because it sounded ridiculous, but because up until that point, it felt like her spirituality was just a running gag that came with her character.

It was nice to see her character expanded upon, and I hope the other characters get the same treatment, even if it is only brief.

Baekji Kang - The Muscle

Then there's Baekji, who easily wins in cool factor.

I can’t say much other than that in addition to being a part of the garden club, she is also in the Judo club. Although the story doesn’t technically address it, I feel like she fills the role of pseudo-leader / Vice-President of the club.

She’s cool.

Saessak - The Green Thumb’d Romantic?:

Ssaesak is a soft-spoken girl who attends to the garden's needs as one of the two members of the garden club.

She is unexpectedly a romantic, being interested in bad boys.

I only found her annoying for a brief moment because it seemed like she was going to hold back information on her latest crush, Hyeonsu Jeong (the lunch guy), before finally finding the resolve to give a possibly game changing piece of evidence to Yeon.

She’s alright.

Execution:

Despite the mostly positive things I have said in this review, my first impressions of Garden Club Detective Squad were more negative in comparison to the opinions I shared at present.

When I read Wizard of Arsenia, I had overblown expectations because my editor Nen had already recommended God of Bath, a webtoon I have now come to really appreciate. I assumed I would love it in the same way.

My expectations were what held me back from what I usually do best: Sit down and just enjoy the show. Granted, I still hold opinions about it that I believe hold back the story, but the opinions were way fairer than what I could have said.

This time around, I made a similar mistake.

I decided on my own to read Garden Club Detective Squad for this review, and held expectations for the mystery element of the Webtoon, which was reinforced by the first panel I showed in the review. Thankfully, even if the webtoon didn’t live up to whatever expectation I had, I know that I could still appreciate it for what it was because I just went with the flow. At worst, the mystery could come across as contrived.

(A panel from the first scene in Chapter 1)

That being said, somehow, I was disappointed. Even a bit annoyed 5-7 chapters in. Disappointment is one thing, but why was I annoyed?

At first, I was thinking it was because the story had a problem with how it presented tension. After all, the webtoon is categorized as a mystery, so I criticized it as such.

In my original draft, I wrote the following:

“The webtoon is categorized under mystery, but I don’t really feel the urgency of the case whatsoever. I feel like I am getting whiplash between moments that I feel are supposed to be serious and moments that are just ‘slice of life’ hijinks.”

I hadn’t taken into account that, although it was a “mystery”, it functioned more like a “comedy”, like God of Bath.

I feel as though the Webtoon was miscategorized. I use God of Bath as an example because it could have easily been categorized under “Action”, because of the Ttaemiri battles. But despite these battles, because of the way dialogue is presented, it is understandably under the comedy genre. Moreover, the action was more of a vehicle to tell the stories and values of the characters themselves. In other words, even if you were to take out these action elements, God of Bath would be fundamentally the same.

But according to my logic, does this mean that if this webtoon didn’t have mystery elements, it would be fundamentally the same?

No, and I do not think it would be the same if the webtoon didn’t have the comedy elements either.

To be perfectly clear, just because I think Garden Club Detective Squad is a comedy, it doesn’t mean that I think it shouldn’t present mystery elements, or vice-versa. But I wish Webtoon could at the very least categorize it as both a “mystery” and “comedy”.

Who knows, maybe my opinion will change as more and more chapters get uploaded. Or rather, I hope it does.

Personally, despite my position towards the webtoon being a comedy, it isn’t all that funny.

And as of the currently uploaded chapters, I think the mystery is all right.

In my opinion, what makes a good mystery is having all the clues presented to the characters and the reader to be able to solve the case. To understand 52chu’s take on mystery, I’ll break down the first suspect, Hyeongsu. Take this scene the beginning of episode 6 for example:

This scene is trying to insinuate that Hyeongsu is the killer. The dramatic irony of this scene, Saessak’s photo of Hyeongsu dumping bones in the garden, and the story deliberately pointing out that there are no cameras in the cafeteria/garden area are the three pieces of information the story provides to help the indirect claim.

(A panel from Episode 8 ^)

(A Panel from Episode 9 ^)

(A panel from episode 8 ^)

But it was all a misunderstanding. Whoops, my bad. “I was just trying to help you all”.

(A panel from episode 9 ^)

It's almost comical how much the plot just wanted to frame Hyeongsu, I can’t help but laugh.

All forms of evidence lead to Hyeongsu, except the fact that the bones were the remnants of ribs from past cafeteria specials:

(Panel from episode 9 ^)

If you were able to pick up the possibility, then great. But somehow, Hyeongsu’s mini-arc just fell flat for me. Whether you knew this one detail or not, it feels like I’m going to be dragged from suspect to suspect in the future. Everyone one of them will be the “killer” except for that one contrivance that makes them innocent. Honestly, I firmly believe that it isn’t any of the faculty.

You know what, here's my Trademark 8Requiems theory. The culprit is Chair Juyeong.

(A panel from Episode 6 ^)

I don’t mind the club reaching dead ends, but if there aren’t elements that could at least help me identify who the real culprit is, I doubt I could enjoy it as much as I’d like to.

Conclusion:

Reading and understanding this Webtoon has been somewhat of a ride. Although it is still ongoing, I have mixed feelings on whether or not I want to continue reading. But despite the gripes that I have with it at the moment, I think I will continue reading it just to see where 52chu takes the story.

You will likely enjoy this Webtoon if you like stories where the plot focuses on the reader having fun with the misadventures of the cast.

But what do you guys think? Do you think my criticism was unfounded? Do you think it really *IS* a mystery, and that I am looking at this Webtoon in the wrong light? Talk about it in the comments below.

And as always,

Arrivederci Brothers. May you attain your grain.

#Webtoon #Webcomic #Webcomics #Garden Club Detective Squad #GCDS #WebtoonReview #WebcomicReview #WizardOfArsenia #Wizard of Arsenia

8 notes · View notes

fang-wolfsbane · 3 years

Text

Transformers Animated: Morning After: Chapter 03: Breathe

“Tyla, table five has been waiting for half an hour already!”

Lie.

“Be right there! Just take care of my table for me!”

Lie.

“Hey, you, you got my order wrong.”

Lie.

“I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to give you a pay cut.”

Lie.

“Hey Tyla, snap out of it.”

Tyla blinked, her attention snapping to the thumb and index finger that appeared out of nowhere, clicking against each other repeatedly. They belonged to one of her co-workers, one whose name she couldn’t bring herself to remember. They remembered hers, so she supposed that she should at least return the courtesy, but their name plate was missing and she didn’t feel like raking her brain until their name popped back into her head.

“Huh? What is it?” Tyla asked, looking to the figure beside her, watching their long fingers popping open the top of a cigarette carton and pulling out one of the small white sticks residing inside of it. Personally, she never understood the reasoning behind smoking, but she didn’t care to find out either. She took a broad step to the side, wanting to limit the disgusting smoke smell sticking to her clothes and invading her lungs without her consent.

She could have stood somewhere else, but she had been standing there first, plus the smoker’s area was inside the building, not outside. Her co-worker must have thought that no one would mind the air being poisoned. She minded though she kept her mouth shut about it. The last thing she needed was to start something and end up getting another pay cut simply because her co-worker was too inconsiderate to take her health into consideration whilst throwing their own away.

“Oh nothing. You just seemed like you were off somewhere better than this,” they smirked, putting the cancer stick to their lips, lighting it up a second later, the smoke curling its corruption against the air, off to poison something in its path. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

Tyla forced herself to smile at the depressive comment, albeit a weak one. If only they were right on their assumption. A daydream would have been nice, if only providing a temporary escape from her workplace. She tilted her head back against the wall of the local Burger Bot, blonde hair sweeping in front of her eyes. She didn’t feel up to moving them out of her eyes, so she let them stay there, blinding her for a couple of seconds of pure sight deprivation.

She wanted to reply with a cocky ‘if only’, but instead she shrugged her shoulders, a meagre gesture, but one her co-worker understood well enough to concentrate on what they were busy with instead. She had taken her fifteen minute lunch break in the hopes of spending some time alone with her thoughts, but that hadn’t gone as planned.

She could have chosen to hide behind the dumpster, but the smell would have chased her away faster than her co-worker’s. Although she had thought of spending the time alone, she supposed that it wasn’t really all that bad if she tolerated the other’s presence for the remainder of her break. Even if the two of them didn’t talk, she found some form of comfort in knowing that someone at least wanted to be within her company. They could have easily avoided her without a care, yet they had chosen to stand beside her instead. Maybe they needed the interaction just as much as she did.

Tyla glanced over towards them, breathing out through her nose to try and keep the smoke’s smell from drifting up through her nostrils. Her own hands were resting in the pockets on her jeans, the only place she could think of to put them instead of having them hanging at her sides with nothing to do.

Her lips parted, then closed. She didn’t know what to say, much less what to do, so she looked ahead of herself once more, brushing the stray strands of hair out of her eyes this time.

“Hey, Tyla?”

Well, it seemed that she wasn’t the only one that had been thinking of striking up a conversation for the sake of drowning out the silence. She looked to her co-worker once more. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we finally did it?” they asked, their blue eyes looking down to the gravel pavement pushed against the side of the building. Tyla’s gaze followed theirs, watching a tiny ant skittering off on its own with a bread crumb someone dropped when they were eating one of the burgers on their way out. She almost smiled at how happy the ant seemed to have found something for its colony. A true provider with nothing more than a simple wish to make those it lived with happy. It was cute, if not a little sad.

“Did what?”

“Reached the pique of humanity?”

Ah, that question. The question everyone living in Detroit seemed to have on their minds at one point or another. The most advanced city in the world, what with its robotic helpers taking over all the roles humans no longer wished to participate in. Window washers, refuge cleaners, even dogwalkers were replaced by those ‘automated helpers’ that the world-renowned Isaac Sumdac earned his fortune from. How he had originally come up with his idea for his robotics company, she didn’t know. She only knew his name because of the TV in the corner of the fast food restaurant she was leaning against like some kind of loiterer.

When she first moved to the city, she’d had to jump out of the way to avoid quite a few of those automated helpers. When it came to applying for the job she had right now, she had been worried about being turned down for not having some kind of robotic part inside her body.

What amused her was the fact that there were still a few humans that worked inside the building, doing the cooking and grilling, and even taking the orders of the customers all too happy to complain when their order took too long despite being prepared beforehand for their waiting convenience to be cut in half. If they had to make it themselves, they would have taken twice as long. She didn’t work behind the griller, but she noticed how stressed the cooks became when the table waiters and waitresses put pressure on them to hurry up before a customer decided they wasted their time simply waiting to be served, have their meal brought to them simply because they had the status and money to afford eating out once in a while.

She wanted to shrug again, not really knowing what her own personal thoughts were on the topic but found herself answering instead. “Probably not. All things considered, humanity could be doing worse.”

“Worse than we already are?” they asked, tilting their head as the ash at the end of their cigarette dribbled to the ground, leaving it for a refuge bot to clean up at a later point. Tyla felt her stomach churn at the sight but tried to ignore it. All things considered, she was surprised that she herself hadn’t turned to smoking as a way to cope with all the thoughts running rampant in her mind at times. That was their usual excuse, wasn’t it? That smoking helped them breathe. She would have laughed at the irony, considering that they wanted to ‘breathe’, yet were more than willing to ignore the obvious fact that they were busy poisoning themselves and those within their current vicinity. Still, she kept her mouth shut about it. If they wanted to rot their lungs, then so be it. Everyone had their coping mechanisms, some were simply more destructive than others.

“We’re humans, aren’t we? There’s always more ways we can screw up,” Tyla said, the unease in her chest lightening some. When was the last time that she had been so honest with her own opinions? She didn’t know, but she was glad to voice that at least.

Her co-worker nodded, seemingly agreeing with her, or at least pretending to. A short while later they dropped the end of their cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, stretching their arms high above their head, the soft snap of bones releasing tension from their shoulders.

“Well, guess it’s time to head back in and earn that money. Gotta make a living somehow right?”

With that, they turned and headed back inside, leaving the smoked butt on the ground to become someone else’s problem later down the road. Tyla found herself frowning, looking to the dumpster barely a few feet away, not to mention the ashtrays that were inside the restaurant for those who found it too inconvenient to dispose of the remains properly.

Tyla sighed, swooped down to pick up what remained of the burnt out stick and tossed it into the nearest ashtray when she walked past the smoker’s area. Luckily, she had gotten the choice of whether she wanted to work within that area or not. Her lungs thanked her for taking the choice to avoid it.

Looking out to the gathered crowd of waiting customers, Tyla took a breath, steadied herself and went back to work. That much needed money wasn’t going to go earning itself, not with her luck.

#Animated #Chapter #Chapter 3 #Fanfiction #MA #Morning After #OC #Original Character #TFA #TFAMA #Transformer #Transformers #Transformers Animated #Transformers Animated Morning After #Tyla

3 notes · View notes

trainer-stealthclaw · 4 years

Text

Drowning Through Time

Summary: With every timeloop that passes, Ayano, the Snake of Retaining Eyes, is pulled deeper into an abyss that feels all too much like one of her own making. Genre: Fantasy/Angst Pairing: Ayano Tateyama/Shintaro Kisaragi (mentioned) Word count: 1911 A/N: This is a counterpart to a previous fic of mine, Never-Ending, which can be read here. TW: Suicide mention

Read on FF.Net

She watches through his eyes. She recorded everything into his memories. Every time, he fails. Every time, the loop repeats.

Sometimes, he dies on his way home from the amusement park along with the rest of the Mekakushi Dan. Others, he's killed during the hostage takeover at the mall. Rarely, it’s in the sinister laboratory under the school…if he manages to get that far.

And then there are the times when he doesn't even make it to eighteen years, where he throws his own life away. Where she's forced to watch as he gives up on the world and everything in it, unable to turn her eyes away from the horrifying sight. And usually, it's all her fault. Those are the times she hates the most.

Ayano isn't sure how much more she can bear. The timeloops have been going on for so long, she'd lost count centuries ago. She isn't even sure if she really is herself, anymore. She had long ago given up her physical humanity, back when she had taken on the role of the Snake of Retaining Eyes, and whenever she speaks to Shintaro, in the few loops where he managed to awaken to her presence, she grows even more sure that she had given up her humanity in spirit as well.

Not that it mattered, she supposes. Nothing much does, anymore.

She watches as he speaks awkwardly to the version of her from this timeloop. Both of them fifteen, without so much of a guess as to what was waiting for them in that grim future.

The Ayano of this timeline smiles shyly, fiddling with her bright red scarf as she chats with Shintaro.

So innocent, Ayano thinks. She wonders what this other version of herself would think, if she knew just how many times her actions had led to countless timelines' downfalls, how many loops she had sabotaged by inadvertently breaking Shintaro's spirit with her eventual death.

Such an irony, really. Everything she has worked towards, everything that she had to sacrifice her own humanity for, was destroyed by none other than, well, herself.

She used to wonder what drove her counterpart to her death. One would think that technically being the same person would mean that she understood. But she doesn’t. The timeline that she had originated from is completely different from the ones she has seen, since becoming the Snake of Retaining Eyes.

She, herself, had never been Shintaro's classmate, unlike this one. In fact, she hadn’t even made it to middle school. She had dropped out when she was barely out of elementary school, the sight of her parents’ deaths fresh in her mind and vengeful resentment towards innocent Mary festering in her heart.

As far as she knew, this Ayano doesn’t know Mary. Has never even met the girl. Instead, she is friends with schoolmates Haruka and Takane, the two whom she herself had never gotten the chance to know in her own life. And from what she has gathered, her younger siblings still love this Ayano.

That…is something that she cannot really say for herself. Not since the accident.

This Ayano, that Shintaro encounters in each timeloop, is completely different from her. They might as well be entirely different people.

To be honest, she resents her. Not only is she throwing a wrench in her goal, to end this eternal cycle, but as far as she could tell, this Ayano has everything. Her family loves her. Her friends love her. She gets to go to school and be normal. She gets to spend time with her beloved (in her own timeline, Ayano barely got more than a day).

So…why? Why does this Ayano give it all up?

Her questions are answered in one timeline, when Kano, her foster brother, gives a rough explanation that leaves her furious and hungering for more answers that no one would give.

The fact that this version of Ayano is staking her very existence on the chance to stop the Snake of Clearing Eyes from achieving his goal is, perhaps, far too expected to be surprising (it is exactly what she herself is doing, is it not?). But to think that she is purposefully driving him into a corner, unwittingly giving him the excuse to force Mary to restart each timeloop and keep them trapped in this cycle? There is irony, and then there is cruelty. Never did Ayano think for one moment that her biggest obstacle would be herself.

It is surely her punishment, Ayano thinks to herself, for everything that she had done in her own life. As if giving up her humanity could ever make up for her sins, the grief she had caused.

As much as Ayano hates the Snake of Clearing Eyes, sometimes she supposes that maybe, she hates herself all the more.

—

She's died again. Ayano watches through Shintaro's tear-filled eyes. She herself feels nothing. This timeloop is likely doomed to fail, anyway. She knows the chain of events like the back of her hand now.

Before the week is out, Shintaro will officially be pulled out of school. By this evening, he'll already be shutting himself in his room.

Within the year, he'll meet Ene, the supposed artificial intelligence who is far more than meets the eye.

Whether he dies soon after that, or later down the line, the chain of events has already begun. This chain of time, that is like a noose constricting her neck. It doesn’t matter how much she screams and fights against it.

This is the fate she has sentenced herself to. This is her punishment for having the audacity to believe that they could make things right, that they could end this eternal cycle of tragedy. It is her hubris, hers and her counterpart’s, that led them to this damnation.

She, trapped in the mind of the one she loved but couldn’t reach, and her, condemned to an infinite world of loneliness in the Heat Haze realm. The two of them burying their feelings and humanity for the sake of a cause that would never come to fruition. Two sides of the same coin, both as foolish and reckless as the other.

She listens to Shintaro crying in the darkness of his room.

Shintaro…I definitely don’t deserve your tears, you know?

—

The clockwork whirs and clicks underneath them, a familiar metallic melody that she had grown used to. The musical rhythm of time itself, playing for them in this space that is only theirs. Not a space for comfort or heartfelt emotions. Those aren’t things she is allowed to have. Emotions are something to be stifled and choked.

No, this is a space for cold facts and uncomfortable truths. Where reality would come crashing down on him as he learns the horrifying truth, and she’d play the part of the callous snake that only appears to resemble the girl he loves.

(In fairness, he isn’t wrong, when he accuses her of being a fake. The Ayano he knows would never look at him with a frigid smile or such empty eyes. His Ayano is bright and full of life, her smile echoing memories of summer days. She, on the other hand, had long forgotten how to curl her lips in such a gentle expression or believe in things like heroism or friendship. It is for that same reason that she never wears that silly scarf. The red scarf is the symbol of a hero, something she could never be. Sometimes, she wonders when she had forgotten the ideals that she had once sworn by. Maybe she is nothing but the snake he sees in her).

Shintaro stands in front of her. His eyes are wide, watching her. His fingers tremble as he clutches at the hem of his jacket. He seems terrified beyond belief, now that he knows the truth of this tragedy that they are bound to.

Well, it isn’t as if she hadn’t expected this reaction from him. Anyone would be overwhelmed by centuries worth of memories. And it wasn’t like she was much better, being the keeper of those recollections.

She regards him with a curious tilt of the head as she looms over him. She never quite got used to the serpentine form that she takes when speaking to him like this, even if it has been centuries since she had been a real human being.

In the distance, she hears the faint chiming of bells. Their time is almost up.

Ayano takes a deep breath. This is the part you must play. Now, do it well.

She pushes herself to sound urgent. Pretend she has any semblance of hope. At the very least, she should give him some incentive to fight. If not for herself, then for their friends, those kids who don’t deserve to be a part of this tragic tale. She owes them that much, at least, she thinks.

“A new timeloop approaches,” she tells him. “Now that you remember the secrets of this never-ending tragedy, what will you do?”

It isn’t any use asking him, to be honest. She knows him too well. Has been with him far too long not to. This is where he gives up, the knowledge overwhelming him with despair. This would be another failure. Another regret to drown in.

She braces herself for the crushing sense of defeat to overwhelm them both.

But instead he stares at her, determination in his crimson eyes. They seem to burn, blazing with something that she hasn’t seen from him in a long time. Her breath catches in her throat.

“I was given this power for a reason. This time, that Clearing Eyes bastard will be the one to pay. I’ll make sure that this never-ending summer finishes for good.”

As if in response to his words, the bells toll around them, singing their songs of promise. Light fills the room. It’s blinding, like the dawn of a new morning. Relief bubbles up in her chest. The crushing weight in her lungs lifts.

For the first time in forever, Ayano breathes. And she smiles.

#kagerou project #kagepro #mekakucity actors #ayano tateyama #shintaro kisaragi #ayaki #shinaya #fanfiction #kagerou day #yakitsukeru #my writings #fanfic #writers on tumblr #havent posted a fanfic on tumblr in forever

21 notes · View notes

keichanz · 5 years

Text

Biggest Fears

yeaaaahhh, so...i ended up just buying the standalone Microsoft word because i’m a finicky bitch with preferences and MS word has spoiled me lmao.

i tweaked the prompt for this one; originally it was darkest fears, but i thought fuck it and made it biggest fears because honestly who the hell cares anymore i want this fucking thinG DONE.

Spooktober Day 29: Biggest Fears

“Mama! Are you watching?!”

“I’m watching, honey,” Kagome called back to her son from her place on the park bench, lifting her head to put truth to her words and watch as he disappeared inside the brightly colored tube slide then reappear at the bottom, grinning and giddy.

Smiling as her youngest laughed and zipped toward the ladder to slide down the, well, slide, once again, Kagome waved to show she was watching and then shifted her gaze to search for her daughter. Izayoi hadn’t moved from her location on the swings, surrounded by Rin and her friends as they chatted and ignored all the little kids and grownups around them. Unsurprisingly Raiden and Kohaku along with a few other boys she didn’t immediately recognize weren’t far away, roughhousing with each other like boys do and generally just having a good time being kids. It was heartwarming and Kagome was glad her daughter had such good friends.

Checking on Tai to find him at the bottom of the slide playing with some other children his age, Kagome felt her phone buzz in her hand and dropped her gaze to read the newest text, secure in the fact that her children were safe.

what r u wearing?

Kagome snorted loudly and quickly typed her reply.

new phone who dis

oh shit don’t tell my wife

She laughed aloud that time and couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spreading as she responded.

That you’re a no good cheating mutt?

u spelled charming and sexy wrong

Your wife is a saint.

yeah i kno, dunno why she puts up with me

You make pretty babies.

is that all?

Kagome bit her lip to stifle the urge to giggle madly. Well okay you might have one or two uses…

oh yeah? care to enlighten this no good mutt?

Liiiiiiike…killing all the spiders :)

not really what i was thinking tbh

She snickered, an impish grin curling her lips upward. Oh no? well what other uses do you have other than jar opener and resident Tall Person among the Short People

think real hard baby 👅🐈

Shoulders shaking in silent laughter, Kagome swiftly typed up her response and she could practically hear his exaggerated groan.

Why are you licking the cat? Do I need to call animal services or

Hitting send, she sat back with a rather smug grin on her lips and waited. Only a minute or so passed before her phone buzzed and this time she burst out laughing at his predictable reply.

fucks sake woman ur damn lucky u ain’t here right now

Cackling gleefully, Kagome typed, OOOOOHHH okay I think I got it now...

A minute passed. Then, i swear to god wench

Kagome felt positively devilish as she sent her response, the contents of which being three emojis.

🍆🍆🍆

Her husband’s reply was instantaneous and there was no mistaking the proud grin that spread across her features as she read it.

😂 god i fucking love u

I know 😘

“...Kagome...?”

“Hm?” Turning her head with a smile, Kagome opened her mouth to greet whoever it was that said her name. Her gaze landed on a slim figure standing a little uncertainly next to the bench, and when caramel brown collided with twin pools of familiar cinnamon, Kagome gasped.

“K-Kikyou?”

Relief flitted across the woman’s face and she offered a friendly, if a bit awkward smile. “So it is you. It’s...been a while.”

Kagome was too dumbstruck to do anything but stare and nod, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in shock.

Kikyou’s smile faded somewhat and she shifted on her feet, looking a bit uncomfortable. She glanced at the playground, glanced at Kagome, and then hesitantly asked, “May I...?”

She gestured to the bench Kagome was seated on and finally snapping out of her shock, the other woman shook her head and gave a strained smile as she wordlessly scooted over to make room.

While she said a quiet thank you and settled beside her, Kagome thought to herself that her formal rival hadn’t changed a bit. Still drop dead gorgeous with the same sleek black hair, model-perfect body, slender legs, and a flawless complexion Kagome had always been jealous of. She looked older, of course, but she had aged extremely well and didn’t look a day over twenty.

Sitting back with a sigh and crossing one leg over the other, Kikyou rested her hands in her lap and offered another smile. It was small but genuine with perhaps a bit of uncertainty, and her brown eyes held a wealth of burgeoning hope that had Kagome suddenly remember her and Inuyasha’s conversation on their deck the night she’d come knocking on their door.

Having absolutely no idea what to say, Kagome managed to return the smile before looking away, cursing herself for the awkwardness that settled between them. No doubt Kikyou could feel it too because she didn’t say anything, allowing the silence between them to grow until Kagome felt like you could cut the tension with a knife.

God, what did you even say to your husband’s former high school flame that had tried to sabotage your relationship before up and vanishing to another freaking country?

Kikyou sighed and looked toward the playground, hating this tension between them, but unsure of how to clear it. A flash of silver caught her attention and automatically her eyes sought it out, lighting on a child with sterling silver hair and very familiar dog ears that strongly hinted at who his father was.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Is that your boy?” she asked softly, nodding toward the toddler as he chased after a cute little girl with brown pigtails.

Blinking, Kagome followed her gaze her and face softened, instantly finding him among the laughing, playing children.

“Yes,” she answered, her smile warm as she watched her son play. “That’s Tai. Five years old and a complete handful, but I wouldn’t have him any other way.”

Kikyou sighed and it was a little wistful, but her tone held neither contempt nor jealousy as she commented, “He looks just like him.”

It was obvious who she was talking about and Kagome’s smile broadened slightly.

“He definitely has his looks,” she agreed, “but thankfully that’s all he inherited. All of his attitude, on the other hand, went straight to his first born.”

Kikyou grinned. “Is she here?”

Kagome nodded toward the swings where her daughter and her friends had claimed for themselves. The girls were swinging now with the boys pushing them and their peals of laughter were pleasant as the sound drifted over to them.

“Oooh,” Kikyou murmured, brown eyes glinting knowingly. “His looks and his temper? Tell me, how many broken hearts has she left in her wake?”

Kagome laughed. “More like broken noses.” At Kikyou’s look, akin to confused alarm, she smiled wryly and explained, “Remember Kouga? Well, unsurprisingly his son is a lot like his father and he’s been chasing Izayoi for a while now. Not too long ago his posturing went a little too far and, well…” She shrugged. “Let’s just say my girl is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Amused, Kikyou’s eyebrows rose into the fridge of her bangs as a little smile flirted with her lips.

“She is her father’s daughter,” she commented, perhaps a little somberly.

Kagome’s smile dimmed a little and she nodded, her gaze drifting to the girl in question.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the two fell into another awkward silence as they watched the children play. Tai was on the jungle gym now and showing off his hanyou skills to the awe-struck human tykes. They were both 100% their father’s children, and Kagome wouldn’t want them any other way.

“Kagome,” Kikyou suddenly said on a sigh and said woman turned her attention to the figure beside her. “May I be frank with you?”

Having a good idea where this was headed, Kagome sucked in a sharp breath and nodded wordlessly.

Kikyou flashed her a quick smile of thanks before shifting on the bench so she was more or less facing her. Kagome did the same, figuring the least she could do as give the other woman her full attention, however she still made it a point to keep an ear and eye out on her children.

“I won’t insult you by beating around the bush,” Kikyou began, doing the other woman the courtesy of looking directly into her eyes. “And I’m not expecting everything to just be okay after this, but for what it’s worth, Kagome…I am truly sorry. For how I acted, for what happened, for what I put the three of us through…for everything.”

Kagome swallowed thickly and said nothing, sensing her companion wasn’t finished.

“I realize now that my behavior was immature and inexcusable,” Kikyou continued, confirming Kagome’s suspicion. She smiled bitterly and dropped her gaze to her lap.

“For years I’ve harbored the guilt of how things ended between us and I suppose it’s not very fair that I ask for your forgiveness, and Inuyasha’s, for what I did. But, here I am.”

She shrugged and Kagome’s heart went out to her. All this time, for over ten years… She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to bear the heaviness of guilt for so long.

“Kikyou…” Kagome began but the woman shook her head. Kagome forced herself to remain quiet, fisting her hands in her lap.

“I was scared,” she admitted, much to Kagome’s surprise. “As a teenager, my world was rather simple and it consisted of three things: shopping, my friends, and…the boy I liked.” Kikyou lifted her gaze and found Kagome’s again.

“So, when Inuyasha started showing interest in another girl—in you—I was terrified and I did things that I am not proud of. And I realize the irony only now, years later when I am an adult with a mortgage and a husband, of how much of a fool I truly was.”

“You can’t pin the entire blame on yourself, Kikyou,” Kagome said, her voice rough, unable to stay quiet any longer. “We were all young and did things we regret. We all made…not very smart decisions, and we let our emotions get the best of us.” She paused. Then, “I was scared too, you know.”

Closing her eyes and releasing a shaky sigh, Kagome bit down on her lip as she gathered her thoughts, a slight frown creasing her brow. Kikyou patiently waited, holding her breath, her cinnamon eyes holding a smidgen of hope that not all was lost.

“When things started getting really complicated,” Kagome began, “My biggest fear at the time was that Inuyasha would get tired of it all—the drama, the fighting, the misunderstandings—and just…decide it wasn’t worth his time anymore. I was scared he’d not only write me off, but forget me entirely and move on with his life without me and I remember how I cried myself to sleep sometimes, thinking about it all.”

Kikyou swallowed thickly and rasped, “You must have hated me.”

Kagome was silent for a beat and then admitted in a whisper, “I did.”

Kikyou closed her eye and nodded. She wasn’t surprised. Because she hated herself, too, for what she did.

“But,” the mother of two continued and Kikyou’s eyes fluttered open, the breath caught in her throat. “I also envied you, Kikyou.”

At the woman’s completely baffled look, Kagome had to smile before elaborating, “You can’t tell me you didn’t notice how completely torn Inuyasha was. He didn’t want to hurt either of us by picking one over the other so it was obvious to me he still cared for you. And I asked myself, why? Why would he still care for someone who’s put us through so much torment and gave us nothing but grief? I was jealous. I didn’t want him to care for you; I wanted all of his attention for myself, for him to pick me, and forget you, and I absolutely hated the fact that you had something with him that I didn’t.”

Kikyou frowned as she tried to determine just what that could be and Kagome’s expression softened. She used to think that her former rival in love was vindictive and knew exactly what she was doing the entire time. Now she realized that she had just been a desperate and brokenhearted girl, fighting to keep her first love’s affection for herself.

Perhaps she and her husband’s old high school flame had been more alike that she’d originally thought.

Kikyou was still looking lost so Kagome finally explained, “Thinking back on it now it’s petty, and I’m a little ashamed to admit this, but I envied you, Kikyou, because you knew him longer than I did. You had memories with him that I didn’t. You got to see every side of him before I did, got to know him before me, and it drove me crazy knowing that you were his first kiss, and I wasn’t.”

The freelance writer digested that in silence, her eyes a little wide in wonder. She’d never realized that was how Kagome had felt. But then again, she’d never taken the time to really understand, had she? No, her only goal had been to get Inuyasha back by any means, uncaring who she hurt in the process, and that was one of her biggest regrets.

Sighing, Kagome finally smiled, and though it was small, it was genuine as she locked gazes with her formal rival and decided it was time to extent the olive branch. They were both adults now, with husbands and a career; it was time to put the past behind them and make a fresh start.

“Thank you for apologizing, Kikyou,” Kagome said sincerely, glad they’d had this conversation. “And I’ll gladly accept it, but only if you accept mine, too.”

Kikyou blinked in surprise and Kagome shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly a saint either. I said some pretty hurtful things to you, Kikyou, things I didn’t mean, and I definitely wasn’t my best self. I could have ignored you and not add fuel to the fire by taking your bait, but I didn’t, and I’m sure it didn’t help matters. In fact I made them worse, and then graduation came around, nothing was resolved, and then suddenly you left and Inuyasha was devastated because he didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Unbidden tears sprang to Kikyou’s eyes and she blinked rapidly, fluttering a hand over her mouth. She definitely had not been expecting that.

Kagome gave a wavering smile and reached out to take Kikyou’s hand in her own. Stunned, the other woman let her, staring down at their hands in a combination of wonder and confusion.

“See, Kikyou,” she murmured, throat feeling tight with emotion. “I’ve been dealing with guilt too, because if I hadn’t been so selfish in wanting all of his attention for myself, maybe he would have had the chance to talk to you before you left and things wouldn’t have gone unresolved for so long.

“But you’re here now,” she continued, eyes bright with unshed tears and her smile broadening. “And you were brave enough to approach me first asking for forgiveness, and I’m giving it to you now. Will you forgive me too, Kikyou? For being a selfish brat and denying you two the closure you so desperately needed?”

Kikyou gave a choked laugh and wiped her eyes with her free hand, a smile curving the corners of her lips upward.

“Look at us,” she rasped. “Two grown women blubbering on a public park bench about events that happened in high school.”

Kagome giggled and reached up to dab at her own eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “Inuyasha always did tease us that we were too emotional,” she said and they shared a laugh, both of them no doubt thinking about how he’d be freaking out right now if he saw them.

Relieved and so utterly grateful, Kikyou got herself together in short order and beamed at Kagome, taking her hand and holding it between both of hers. She squeezed, drawing Kagome’s attention.

“Of course I forgive you, Kagome,” she said and laughed lightly at Kagome’s relieved sigh. “We were young and dumb—”

“And full of c—”

“Ohmigawd, don’t say it!” Kikyou squeaked and Kagome snickered, eyes flashing with glee as she covered her grinning mouth with a hand. Kikyou relented and dissolved into giggles as well and the two of them sat there laughing quietly, feeling comfortable, all previous awkwardness completely vanished.

“And full of the cafeteria’s awful Mystery Meat,” Kikyou finished with a grin and elicited an indelicate snort from an equally grinning Kagome. “And maybe it was that dreadful concoction of questionable food the school fed us or something else entirely that made us act the way we did—”

“Teenage hormones?” Kagome put in.

“I was thinking PMS,” Kikyou opined and once more the two giggled quietly together before the writer continued, “But now it’s in the past, we’ve realized the mistakes we’ve made, so now I’d love to say let us let bygones be bygones and finally put the whole thing behind us.”

Relieved, Kagome smiled and gently tugged her hand from Kikyou’s before extending it.

“A clean slate,” she announced and felt something loosen in her chest when the other woman without hesitation clasped her hand. “And a fresh start. I like the sound of that.”

Feeling like she was going to break down and cry all over again, Kikyou gave a trembling smile, squeezed Kagome’s hand, and breathed, “Me, too.”

Half an hour later, after making plans for the four of them – Kikyou, Kagome, and their respective husbands – to meet up for lunch this weekend, the two women bid each other a fond farewell and went their separate ways. Kagome collected her children and started the fifteen-minute walk home, trailing behind them on the sidewalk and watching with a small smile as her daughter and niece swung Tai back and forth between them. Raiden, Kohaku and their friends left to head home as well, and Kagome had pretended not to notice Raiden tug Izayoi aside to whisper something in her ear before kissing her cheek and leaving the half-demon in a blissful state of euphoria.

As Tai’s laughter rang out in the crisp October air, Kagome smiled and pulled out her phone, bringing up her messaging app with a few taps of a finger.

Inuyasha.

Only thirty seconds or so passed before he responded; he never kept her waiting and it was one of the many things Kagome loved about him.

what’s up baby

Feeling warm all over as her heart burst with affection for her husband, Kagome quickly typed her response, a mere three words.

I love you.

She didn’t wait for his response; closing the app, Kagome brought up the keypad and dialed a familiar number before bringing the phone to her ear. When her mother didn’t answer, however, she wrinkled her nose and tried another number.

“Hey, Sango,” she said when her friend picked up. “Listen, would you mind watching the kids for an hour or two? I want—” She paused as her friend interrupted and her eyebrows slowly lifted into her bangs as an amused smile lifted the corners of her lips.

“Oh…he did? And Miroku agreed? I see. Yes, don’t worry, everything’s fine. It’s just…well…I had an interesting chat with someone and I just…I dunno, I want to spend a little time alone with him, is all.

“Not right now,” she said apologetically as her house came into view. “I promise to call you tomorrow though, and tell you everything, okay? Trust me, you’re gonna need a glass of wine for this conversation. Or two.”

Kagome laughed at Sango’s begrudging agreement to wait and with a promise to see her tomorrow, the school teacher hung up and pocketed her phone, increasing her pace to lay a hand on her children’s shoulders and quietly tell them to head to Sango and Miroku’s house. She assured them everything was okay at their questions and she just wanted to talk to their father alone for a bit. Izayoi still looked unconvinced, however she nodded and waited for Tai to hug his mother before taking his hand and leading him across the street to their aunt and uncle’s house. Rin waved and jogged down the street to her own house, and Kagome watched for only a minute before turning and going home to her husband.

The house was quiet when she entered through the side door and she was shrugging out of her coat when two arms suddenly snaked around her waist and a mouth dropped to her neck. Kagome smiled and leaned back against him, reaching up to slide her hand into his hair and find a soft ear, rubbing the flesh gently. She was rewarded by a low growl reverberating against her back and a sharp nip to the ear that had her gasping as her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest.

Turning around, Kagome lifted her chin in time to receive her husband’s hungry kiss and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he effortlessly swept her up into his arms. She gasped, he growled, and with a shared, intimate smile, Inuyasha carried his wife upstairs to their bedroom, murmuring against her lips how much he loved her and how goddamn lucky he was to have her.

Kagome’s response to that was a trembling smile, a loving kiss to his lips, and a whispered plea to show her how much he loved her as she tugged the door shut firmly behind them.

#biggest fears #spooktober prompts #day 29 #oneshot #inuyasha #kagome #kikyou #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction #listen i was actually tearing up writing the part between kagome and kikyou al;djkfalkdj #like #theY ARE GONNA BE BESTIES NOW ITS SO EMTIOANL FUCK WHY AM I CRYING #also as a random note #i was gonna make up a fake screenshot of inu and kagome's text conversation but i got lazy hahaha #i could still do it though if a few people ask me

80 notes · View notes

thegospelofnagisa · 4 years

Text

Magia Record Anime: Final Episode and Overall Thoughts of the Final Arc.

Ok… Sorry for the delay but I really really needed to fully structure my thoughts regarding the final episode of Magia Record and this whole final arch as a whole because...I am gonna be straight to the bullshit...I did not like this ending very much, as the episode itself I have to say it is my least favorite in the anime and I personally consider it the worst in the entire anime, right from the start I want you to know that, and with that being said, lets get into the reasons why.

First of all, while it is not a defining factor, it’s not the fault of SHAFT or bothers me a lot, it has to be said simply for the sake of completion, the quality of the episodes has been reduced dramatically, and that can be bothersome to some people, I understand that given the situation with the Coroner, this was expected, everyone knew it was going to happen, and again let me say, it doesn’t bother me, I can stand an anime that looks like blurry blob of shit, AS LONG AS THE STORY IS good, unfortunately for Magia Record I cannot shake the feeling in my head that the lack of resources might have had a hand in how things played out beyond a graphical downgrade...what things? That’s our next point.

Second, I have a big problem with this massive cliffhanger ending,I feel it was widely open, we are left with an ending that does not follow the story of the game in the slightest so NO ONE has any idea what the hell is going to happen and the story of this final arc is left inconclusive, we don’t know what will happen with Momoko and Rena, we don’t know if Iroha is going to be ok, we don’t know what happened to Mami...there is so much we aren’t aware of.

This is in itself is not a big issue because we know that there is going to be a second season, they’ve confirmed it….but here’s the thing, even so, you can’t just play with fire like that, leaving a massive cliffhanger like that is basically just begging the audience to continue to watch the series in the hopes that they’ll want to come and see what will happen, I feel that weights on the story because it doesn’t allow you to fully closure a story and like I said, a lot of things can change from here to then, sure Magia Record is popular, sure the anime is getting good ratings and it is selling well despite the pandemic, but that can change very quickly, what if the game messes something up and it puts a massive negative mark on the game that will affect its popularity? What if something happens with SHAFT and the anime gets delayed or worst, canceled? What if things get worst from here and now (I am very optimistic they won’t and we will all pull through with it but, it would be naive to discard a bad case scenario) you will ultimately disappoint your audiences when said continuation never comes, and it will be a huge disservice to the story you worked so much in.

G.R Martin can get away with it because that is the tone he has set for A Song of Ice and Fire, one of absolute uncertainty where you don’t know what will happen and things can change in an instant, so the audience is used to that dynamic, Magia Record IS NOT A Song of Ice and Fire, doing this is not good.

They should have finished episode 6 properly and then follow on with episode 7 and beyond in the second season...that is what I think.

The story itself is not that good because even in the game, it’s not very well written, it relies too much on backstory telling and trippy psychedelic antics, to the anime’s credit they summarized it very well, but still, it was not a good place to end the anime on, let alone finish it up with a fucking cliffhanger, so there is that.

And let’s not even get into what I perceive as contradictions with the original anime, for starters Kyubey saying in episode 12 that the witches are beneficial for humanity, I am sorry...I am sorry but...the Incubators don’t give two shits about humanity, Kyubey says it so in the original anime, he doesn’t care if we die or survive, he sees us meerly as resources and once our usefulness expires, he doesn’t care about us, they have the energy they want to stop entropy, it makes the implication that it isn’t just humans but other species across the universe that get milked by Incubators, but in Magia Record this is overly simplified by both Kyubey and Touka through the final arc, it’s not just about humans, that’s what gives magnificence to the story and to Madoka’s wish, for the people who wonder why we glorify Gen Urobuchi so much, is because of this, he crafted a truly expansive concept with Madoka Magica, and then this dumb brat comes and bawls for the plight of Puella Magi….girl….NO ONE KNOWS PUELLA MAGI EXISTS! OF COURSE NO ONE IS GOING TO CARE ABOUT YOU! OMG for someone who harbors the superiority of Puella Magi, you sure make them look stupid Touka.

Then again, for those who played the game and know its story, they know the Magius ideology is bullshit and hypocritical anyway, but I won’t get much into that due to spoilers, for further in the story, needless to say, there is a bit of irony in Touka’s speech about resources management.

And finally my fourth negative point, which are mostly nitpicks but I’ll mention them, if you want me to address them individually I gladly will, but to summarize as much as possible, I do not like the way they handled Mami’s working with the Magius in the anime and the fact that they made Kaede join the fucking Magius...these two share the same problem for me and I’ll explain why, I feel the anime people don’t understand the basics of Mami and Kaede, see, joining the Magius is an act of weakness, because while the Magius system cleanses the soul gems of dispair, it doesn’t solve the problem, Puella Magia always get despair, so releasing a doppel becomes a necesity for them, a drug to put it in more comprehensible terms, one they grow dependant on, one they take they take it for relief at first, but later they’ll take it because they don’t want to feel bad. Really Momoko, Yachiyo, Yuma, Madokami’s approach is the correct one here, instead of worrying about the coming despair, you grow strong and don’t let it destroy you, that way you overcome it and grow stronger as a Puella Magi.

But then there are weak willed Puella Magi who form the Magius (Mifuyu for example, she might not be a “clingy jealous ex girlfriend” but she is a complete weakling and a coward, the perfect candidate for the Magius cult), that being said, the fact that you tell me Kaede is going to join the Magius, an organization she knows very well what it is, bugs me, Kaede is very fragile, introvert and easy to push around, but she is not a weakling, her main problem is that she is on a team with Rena, anyone is going to be a nervous wreck on a team with Rena, now replace Rena with...Kanagi, Oriko, or even the Pleiades Saints, now Kaede will grow, and even on the team she is, she grows quite a lot, so I feel making her go the Magius route is an insult to her character, cimenting her as a “Weakling” (Granted there is the possibility this is temporary and she will be snappend out of her stuppers by the other 2 and the three will perform an audacious escape from the Magius Rally at the beginning of the second season, but until then, I am going to take it as as I explained it.).

The same thing applies to Mami, and this bugs me because there is a lot of people who don’t understand Mami DOESN’T BREAK DOWN BECAUSE SHE IS WEAK, she breaks down because she realizes her fight it’s POINTLESS, HOWEVER, if Mami has the support of a team with her, she can usually survive the shock, as Oriko Magica and The Different Story show, I am tired of people perpetuating the idea of Mami being a crazy nut job about to explode, that is a gross misunderstanding of her character.

But well….those are all my negatives, I’ll go back to the positives of the episodes, I like how they’ve developed the relationship between Iroha and Yachiyo, I still don’t fee the love tonight but, I do feel they’re really close together in a way Yachiyo has never had, so the anime did a good job with that.

I did like the Naziesque imagery with Touka’s speech, sure it can hit a nerve on some people, I completely understand it, but then again...she IS the villain, of course you expect her to hit you bad, and Touka is an excellent villain like Alina, she really really makes you hate her guts, and the Magius ARE a cult so they’re supposed to evoke this inhuman and fascist vibe on people because that’s what they are, they believe in the supremacy of a group over the other, isn’t that what a Nazi is? Assholes who think their misconceptions of how race works grant them a superiority over the rest of humanity, that’s what the Magius are, two fart sniffing brats who think their erroneous misconceptions of their status as a Puella Magi grants them the right over the rest of humanity.

Perfect casting I’d say.

And finally, Sayaka! Omg Sayaka really shined this episode, and this is a version of Sayaka we don’t often see, a mature baddass Sayaka, sure she’s still a rookie compared to Mami, but she performs with a lot more confidence and skill than she ever did in the main anime, you can tell she knows how to use her skills and she’s not afraid to use them, allowing her arm to get blown off to save Iroha and Yachiyo and later healing herself ring on the spots she was hurt, all through visual details, Inu Curry’s expertise, really if you’re a fan of Sayaka, THIS is the brightest moment in her life, this episode will make you love Sayaka Miki a lot.

Overall...I have to say, despite all my complains up there, I generally enjoyed Magia Record a lot and I am anxious for the next season, here’s hoping all will go well, and the Coroner won’t stop anyone, sure the world will change, but in some ways, I feel it will be a change for the best, and I hope these changes don’t halt the production of Magia Record, the franchise has managed to resurect from the grave Shinbo buried it with Rebellion many years ago, it would be a tragedy if it were to die here, but just like humanity, I am sure this new team heading the franchise can overcome all those odds….sorry that was fucking cheese XD

I give this final arch a 7, originally I was going to give it 6 but Sayaka was so fantastic that it pushed it to a 7 for sure...as to the entire series, I give it an 9, very good series, and a must if you watched Madoka Magica, skip Rebellion, let it rot on the ground and embrace the new path of the franchise with Magia Record.

#my reviews #magireco anime

6 notes · View notes

mittensmorgul · 5 years

Text

I find it endlessly fascinating that I can rewatch 12.19 now post 14.20, and still fundamentally feel exactly the same way about it.

Jack’s power tapped into Cas and did exactly what it did for Kelly. Jack’s power ensured Jack’s safety through whatever means necessary. Kelly needed proof that Jack was not evil, not a force of pure destruction that would tear down the world, and she got it when he resurrected her. But as Dagon and Cas both pointed out, that was at least partly in Jack’s own self-interest. He still needed Kelly’s body to ensure his own survival. But Kelly was unshakable in her belief after Jack’s power touched her, despite not understanding it herself. The vision Jack sent her of the sandbox, that was her point of no return. Yes, Jack’s power was able to use Cas to destroy Dagon, but Joshua also died in the process. All of this was still arguably done for Jack’s own self-interest, or he could’ve saved Joshua, too.

This all becomes entirely evident in 13.01, where Jack’s singular focus after birth is finding Castiel, because he “chose” him to be his parental figure. Jack himself had no understanding of his own power at that point, no understanding of humanity or reality in general (he knocked out Sam and Dean as a reaction to Dean brandishing a gun at him and then wandered off naked in search of answers i mean...).

There is no rational interpretation of this that allows one to assume that whatever vision Jack showed Cas in 12.19 was a True Rendering Of Future Events. It was as much a manipulation of Cas as anything Chuck has ever done to any of TFW.

Because it preyed on Castiel’s fundamental self-doubt, the absolute low point we see brought to fruition by his death in 12.23 and then his experiences confronting the Empty Entity in 13.04. It promised Cas the one thing he had failed over and over and over to secure for himself, for Dean, as he explicitly says in this episode: a win. Defeating Dagon-- even at the cost of Joshua’s life, even at the cost of the Colt destroyed, even at the cost of literally abandoning Sam and Dean because Jack’s power only needed Cas and Sam and Dean had proved to be a potential threat-- this was still something Cas considered a “win.”

And that proved, yet again, to have been the wrong choice. And heck, have we seen Jack make “wrong choices for the right reasons” over and over and over again for the last few years. Up to and including his “stop lying!” in 14.20.

My tag for a while has been “lies and damn lies,” because not all lies are bad. Some lies can hurt terribly... and some “truths” can destroy everything.

Jack didn’t show Cas some objective truth, but what he thought he needed to see to secure his help. He gave Cas something he could have faith in, and he put his faith in Cas. He showed Cas a way he could be useful. He gave Cas hope that he might not be a complete failure, and gave him purpose, gave him a mission...

With Chuck’s revelations in 14.20, that he directly “provided” the BMoL as an antagonist, and now rewatching 12.21 is just... wild. Like the antagonism and gamesmanship, the mistrust of everyone including the people in their own organization, the complete isolation and control the entire organization inflicts on their members up to and including brainwashing, torture, forcing their operatives to destroy any connection through friendship or family from the time they’re children, in order to secure their complete obedience to The Code... well...

We paralleled them to the sort of Angelic Obedience that Heaven has always enforced through the same methods-- literally brainwashing, absolute control and obedience, secured through “reprogramming” via torture if necessary. And now we KNOW, we have proof from Chuck’s own mouth that this was just another retelling of his own original story. All the glowing crosses in the room Mary is imprisoned is just another version of Naomi’s Heaven. There is no difference. And what were they taking from her? To ensure her compliance?

Free Will.

This is what Heaven has always tortured out of Cas. Every time he was dragged back for disobedience, for compassion, for having too much heart, his free will was crushed out of him. And yet... we still had s6. Cas inadvertently (with a bit of manipulation on Crowley’s part and a desire to protect his loved ones, or well... specifically to protect Dean) set himself up as the leader who demanded absolute obedience, because in his mind he was doing the only thing that could save the world again, from Raphael and his loyal angels’ plan to free Lucifer and Michael again.

We KNOW that Cas would do anything to protect Dean, to spare him from ever having to say Yes to Michael. Because that is eventually what would’ve happened. This cycle appeared doomed to repeat itself ad nauseum as long as the angels remained obedient to the ruler in Heaven. They may have technically “won” at Stull in 5.22, but just barely, and at an unacceptable cost.

And then Cas HIMSELF freed Lucifer, brought this burden down on all of them, and felt responsible for fixing the messes that made. He could spare Dean. He could clean up his mess, he could prove that he hadn’t done more harm than good... he could again sacrifice himself.

He could cut all ties to the Winchesters, cut the temptation to ask for their help and endanger them, because Jack chose him, Jack gave him the ability to have faith in himself. Because that was the one thing Cas thought he needed. He didn’t feel like he’d earned his place as a Winchester. As part of this family. And he still needed to prove he could be useful. That’s what Jack gave to him, even through all his doubts.

But Cas... despite all of his progress toward humanity, all his understanding of Free Will, still hasn’t understood this final lesson. Even through s14 when he helped Jack come to terms with his own loss of power, he’s only just begun to understand that there’s never really been a choice between peace or freedom. And in 14.20, Chuck demonstrated that completely.

Cas clung desperately to the hope that Jack could still serve as his point of usefulness to the Winchester family. His faith in himself was shaken through Jack’s first death, to the point he was willing to sacrifice himself on the spot in a final act of usefulness in returning Jack to Sam and Dean. His self-worth was still directly tied to what he could do for Sam and Dean. And isn’t that just horrifying.

He deceived himself as much as every BMoL agent who played into Hess’s power games-- dangling the promotion to Mick’s job over both Toni and Ketch and winding them both up over it. He decieved himself as much as both Crowley and Lucifer did through their own power plays. Because ALL of it would eventually prove pointless. They ALL died for it in the end. Burned to the ground and rendered irrelevant by the story, by the storyteller. By Chuck.

Jack... is the disruptor. Jack is the thing that Chuck can’t account for in the story. The Big Bad of s13 (I said back then) was Dramatic Irony and Miscommunication, but in light of 14.20, I’d venture to say that might still be true, but it was also about Chuck desperately trying to provide a distraction that would lead to Jack’s neutralization.

Cas never could win while Chuck had always been controlling the game. Chuck sets the rules. He’s proven he can override the rules with a snap of his fingers. He could’ve “fixed” everything at any time. He could’ve rewarded Cas with a win at any time. He could’ve ended the fighting between Lucifer and Michael at any time. He could’ve sealed off the alternate universes or ended them or even returned to the Apocalypse AU and given Michael the explanation he’d burned down that world in hopes of getting. But he never intended any of that, because it wouldn’t serve his story. He can’t write endings. He can’t even truly extract himself from his own story.

And as long as Chuck continues to author the rules of the universe, this will always, only, ever be the story. Jack is the disruptor. He’s the thing Chuck can’t account for. And not even Jack understands this yet.

But I’m betting this is what Billie and the Entity will be explaining to him in that realm where Chuck’s power has no influence.

I’ve been wondering since 11.23, after Chuck explained to Dean that he was the “firewall between light and darkness,” and the supposed unification of Chuck and Amara, what would keep those two forces united once they supposedly left the world in Dean’s hands. Now with the proof delivered to us in 14.20, it’s clear that without Dean uniting them, Chuck and Amara effectively went their own ways, unable to maintain that balance on their own. Chuck ditched Amara in Reno (divorce capital of the world!), lost his ending because he didn’t want his favorite story to end. He can’t help himself, because it’s literally what he is.

Jack has what neither Chuck nor Amara do... balance. Hard won through all the experiences of his short life. Not just the experience of “good” and “bad,” but of the vast grey area in between. He’s the embodiment of unification. He’s a walking duality, and neither part of him can survive on its own. But he’s not just a duality. Unified, he transcends it entirely. He’s more than the sum of his parts. Without his grace he isn’t just a human, and without his soul he isn’t just an angel. And it’s taken him this long to begin to learn this.

And he never could’ve come to this point if he hadn’t forced Chuck’s hand into dropping the curtain. As much as Jack proved to be a uniting force for TFW, even through their darkest hour when Dean believed Chuck and followed the story Chuck wanted to tell-- of forcing Dean to sacrifice Jack and himself for the sake of the world. Dean couldn’t do it in the end, because Jack isn’t a disruptor to him anymore. Through everything they’d been through because of Jack-- going all the way back to 12.08 and his very conception-- through having their entire family torn apart because of Jack, because of his very existence, this round of the story eventually has come full circle.

Now, with all of the story between then and now laid bare, I don’t know how assumption can be made in retrospect that this is always what Jack showed Cas in 12.19. This is literally the opposite of what Cas described. Because what Cas thought he wanted in 12.19-- to be useful, to win within the context of the narrative of his existence as he understood it at the time, was always only ever a lie.

There was never any escape from Chuck’s Grand Story, except by seeing it for what it really was. There was never truly Free Will for any of Team Free Will. And in 12.19, it’s not even what Cas wanted. He wanted his family safe by any means necessary, he wanted to feel that he had a purpose in securing that, when the overarching force controlling the entire universe expressly prevented that from ever being a possibility.

And now, Chuck has proven that. By Jack’s third death (the death of his grace in 13.23 by Lucifer, the death of his soul in 14.08 through 14.14 by Michael, and then his ultimate death by Chuck’s own hand in 14.20), he’s been torn apart and now reassembled in a microcosm of the entirety of creation itself.

Jack isn’t just a mirror for Cas. He isn’t even just a mirror for TFW. He’s the embodiment of the grand narrative of Creation itself. He’s light, darkness, and his own firewall that holds it all in balance. And that has been the story of HIS journey, as the combined reflection for all of TFW, but also as the firewall between Divinity and Humanity.

As above, so below. And Jack is the force that connects it all.

65 notes · View notes