#she has no boundaries or concept of them. I live each moment of my life striving to be her opposite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

desertdragon · 2 years

Note

👤 for Yugiri? Oh and also for a NPC whom Vaste is friends with.

Meme

I get to talk about the wife first 😮‍💨; also like I DM'd you I'm gonna do 3 just for fun

NOTICE: I recommend anyone who's gonna read this do it either on the iPhone tumblr app OR on my blog site in desktop (it's my actual url when you click on my icon or that page crease a post does when you hover over the top right on the desktop dashboard) or viewing my blog page on a phone browser, I DONT advise reading this On the tumblr dashboard because it's too long with Read More removed, your feed will break

I have marked Trigger Warnings for sections in Bold along with -'s they are intended to be skippable if needed

So I change a lot about Yugiri's future and her present, but not her past. Her past is exactly the same as normal; she was born and raised in Sui no Sato, she has both parents and two brothers, she was daring and reckless taking trips to the surface lands out of curiosity, and her meeting Shun who would become Hien is what changed the course of her life. She sacrificed it all to do what she thought was right. In this part all I do is try filling in for whatever isn't accounted for from a character perspective. The emotional, important details and minutia and all that shit.

Anything in this tag already has my essays or observations on Yugiri as she is. I'd like to compile some of that while focusing too on how she changes in my AU and what her future then is like. As a notice that tag will also be updated whenever ideas strike and I post them too.

Building on the stuff I've written before, I think Yugiri's ability to have compassion while still setting her boundaries, as well as being raised in a stable isolated society, all makes her a great person to see the value in something socialist. The whole reason she attached herself to Doma was because its colonization and the stories she heard from Shun's royalist perspective angered her so much as a child at the injustice; as well as the nobility and resolve she saw among the warrior class. It was an emotionally driven decision as the foundation of how she perceived justice.

A few people in the fandom agree that Yugiri needs to learn to live for herself, rather than as a tool or the eyes of someone else. I've even seen a few fanfics where this was attempted, with Hien either being accepting or not talked about. The need for independence is correct, but I feel people see it in a shortsighted way. None of those depictions took into account the grander moral, social, political, and further emotional nuances it would be attached to beyond pitching the concept's basics. Living for herself would completely tear up her world!

Though to be honest I'm a little glad? I don't trust this fandom and most fandoms to wipe their ass without burning their houses down somehow; so I'd rather get shallow basics than more fake deep rhetoric that's full of misogyny, racism, and bootlicking. As if the game story itself wasn't full of enough bootlicking as is.

So then coming from that, how should we discuss Yugiri in terms of her personhood and relation to Vaste? Her relation to Doma needing to evolve? This is sort of the fun part about writing for characters canon forgets exist because it's mostly free game.

I've failed to write this subject with any narrative consistency (which I'm gonna fix when I write the novel length version of Vaste's entire life because just short fiction like I've been doing is getting me nowhere) BUT her relationship with Vaste was under crisis at least twice. Both were huge character building moments that had her reevaluate herself and her life.

Neither time had anything to do with usual couple arguments or disagreements or just growing apart since 1. They're the types who work out how they feel between each other with consistency and enthusiasm for communication ie. They don't do that petty hold it in until I explode on the person I love because they should be able to mind read type shit & 2. I don't think they would grow apart because of how strongly they feel for one another and the sense of trust they formed by again, consistent empathy and communication!

What strained and almost fractured them came from morality, beliefs, and ideals. The first time was when Vaste confessed how much evil she had done while working under the Scions & Alliance. Obviously all sides involved in that share the blame, and yes Vaste was abused and manipulated in multiple ways, but she still did the things she did. She still killed countless unarmed civilians, she killed kids and at times child soldier conscripts of the Garlean army while in the field. She still upheld and represented governmental dominance. Even if there were times she stopped mid act and instead tried to covertly save these people or be defiant, it doesn't remove the times she didn't save them and didn't resist the oppression she worked for.

This is the first major split I take from canon regarding Yugiri. The game at no point meaningfully considers or explores the purpose or reality of being a soldier or government servant, despite its emphasis on politicking, war campaigns, war crimes, and even bio weapons like Black Rose. The game is extremely pro establishment, and when it does mention things like rape, murder, colonization etc. when done by soldiers serving a government, it's in quiet throwaway lines OR it's explained and resolved in the most stripped down form, then these simplified nuanced issues can be solved off screen or with one act. Or its ignored. Even slavery which is a topic present with Copperbell Mines, Beast Tribes, the Arcanist class, & Yotsuyuu's stories is simplified as either what Bad Eggs do, as a natural cost of economic success, or something that largely impacts One Person, rather than the systems of oppression they are.

If I go by base game Yugiri, no way would she stay with Vaste I don't think. If I wrote Vaste as close to how the game portrays the WoL and these topics, then she becomes a caricature- the typical hero who commits war crimes and serves the government with her activities never questioned and never even explored. She would be all of this, without meaningful impact or consequence (TW: Rape Mention in passing):

^ Redditors realizing this is the same issue superhero comics and comic movies have, where instead of someone with immense power and unlimited resources helping humanity’s betterment as a whole transcending petty borders, they become tools of State interests and propaganda agents

Also it's almost as if even in our fiction governmental organizations and their ally organizations still are only designed to benefit their own agendas, and any good they achieve for the public and human rights is pure coincidence or part of a public relations image, wow, surely this has no real life basis :^)

A Vaste and Yugiri written under normal game constraints would be very difficult to have last OR it could last but be hollow; it would require Yugiri to be even more of a blinded hypocrite than she already can be, and it would require her compassion at the core of the character to break. This wouldn't be a bad thing (it is still a character and has potential to be complex- think exploring Yugiri's Worst Self) if it weren't for the fact that it wouldn't be written in a mature way. It would be written as her and Vaste being unflinchingly in the right for this behavior because they fight for the "Good Guys".

Instead Yugiri would undergo a crisis weighing the evil of mercilessly killing, exterminating really, down to kids. The sheer level of blood on someone’s hands for that is too much, especially again with how Yugiri’s nature includes looking out for the helpless. Then you pit that against how it was ordered by a government body; by a united government body who sheltered the Doman refugees, and the fact that looking at how she herself is a government agent, she was taught you have to serve with undying loyalty.

But how do you serve when something so disgusting is asked of you? Isn’t there a point where as a person you have an obligation to resist when inhumanity is expected of you?

Then you combine this with how it forces her to examine her own sins in a similar vein. What about the things she’s done for someone higher than herself? Could she have stopped during some of her own killings? What exactly were some of the reasons for that behavior? It couldn’t all have been just, especially once we see that Hien is fine with pardoning sex traffickers because they share nationalities, how he doesn’t question the system that enabled it. It couldn’t all be just when working for government interests inherently means advancing one group’s desires over others, by any means necessary. There’s also no feasible way everyone she killed could have been bad people worthy of death.

The issue within her becomes complex, as much as what made Vaste do what she did is complex. How angry can she really be at her when Yugiri has killed just as thoughtlessly, just as much to appease other’s need for power they disguised as righteousness? Why was she measuring herself by these easily manipulated metrics, which then proved she’s so capable of ordered violence like a dog on a leash? Why does she dehumanize herself as a tool? Fuck, what about the subject of political prisoners?

I imagine she had to take time for being alone physically and mentally. She tries arguing against the feelings it all stirs in her mind, the things she held back by the skin of her teeth. Then the longer she's left with herself, she realizes she can't look at the people she's followed, she can't look at Hien, without being reminded of dead people. She can't look at them and not have her morality question itself, she can't look at any action Doma takes without questioning everything it's trying to stand for.

When the lines that used to seem simple become blurred because Yugiri is forced to see her mirror in someone, it opens her character down one avenue of gaining independence. Ultimately the goal is to face this mirror and either reject it in denial of her own evil, or accept it and change into someone better.

Which goes into the second crisis- abandoning government bodies altogether. Leaving Doma behind, seeking no masters but herself, walking away from her lords and their laws. Once she reconciles change on the individual level, it has to impact her relationships and groups too. Its the test that cements her commitment to being someone new.

Also when I say that I don’t mean Vaste is phrasing it as a test for her lol, I mean from a writing perspective. Vaste would continue fighting for what she believes in regardless of anyone else, she stops being people’s tool; though the loss would hurt her for sure. I think its the exact quality Yugiri gains by finding conviction in herself and Vaste’s example. Having conviction in yourself allows you to die on your own terms, succeed fueled by your own initiative. I’d love seeing Yugiri become that person, especially because it feels both natural and necessary.

It would still be a shock on some level for her to take this second step, but she would do it with less hesitation. She’s flexing her freedom for the first time in years; that childhood spark for daring never died beneath the surface. It was just sleeping. Once she regains it and throws off whats holding her back (ie. the royalist brainwashing and its components) she’s unstoppable. She’s calmer but less distant, she questions everything but also accepts facts as they are. Her anger is tempered and focused and it has always been an extension of her capacity to love the world. She begins awakening to a sort of enlightenment after liberating her mind.

Fighting Hien and besting him in a duel is the symbolic breaking of the final shackle. Everything that could and did hold her back, every doubt, it all comes to the point of no return. She will have her own future or die trying. She faces it with unbreakable determination as much as she does sadness.

They were friends once, and in the bottom of her heart I think she will always care at least for Shun the boy regardless of Hien the man. But that relationship is finally not enough to stop her from seeking her own justice. They were also master and retainer, such a relationship can never be equal by its definition. The old growth has to die for the new. She wants people who will stand beside her not in front.

She’s remade her identity before this because it felt right, I think she’ll be alright.

I want it clear too how much it is a relationship of equals between Vaste, herself, and their friends. If she opposed them she simply wouldn't have followed them, and I don't think she would let herself be strung along what Vaste wants to achieve just because they're together- in fact they would probably fight to the death if Yugiri remained loyal to what she already fights for. No amount of good relationships, fear of being alone, or crazy good dick is worth being a slave who lacks any independence for lmao. She comes to them because she believes in them as much as they do her, because they all see her and put her back in touch with humanity.

I say that because I've seen so many people including other women make their WoLs literally a dependent accessory with zero personality that doesn't revolve around their male NPC love interests and pretend it's sexy like congratulations you're upholding misogyny, here is your Woman Hater medal 🤡🏅 thank you for continuing to devalue us all as cum socks and emotional labor props, they write with this tone unironically in full seriousness (TW: NSFW, Misogyny):

TW: Suicide mention

Emotional vulnerability is so so important too. Yugiri comes off as holding hers back because of the dehumanizing nature of her position and training. Its really clear whenever she’s upset, emotionally strung, or expressing kindness and gratitude, in the Japanese even her speech mode changes. I want more scenes like the riverside talk in Stormblood, which was really the only time (besides another single one later in EW which I will not spoil for You specifically, though my followers should know since Aislinn @/lettersnorth mains ranged melee) where she knowingly allows the player past her facade.

With the gift of hindsight that conversation isn’t just contemplative and sad watching her self esteem fall, I think its one of the signs for when she goes to assassinate Zenos later. It has this air of tense finality to it even though she’s not openly saying anything suicidal; regardless of how the player chose to respond to her musing, its clear whats happened before this moment still weighs on her with what comes after. The fact she fully resolved to kill or die trying when dying was 99% certain proves how little her life is worth to her. Its eerie coming back to that cutscene for me. She’s lost everything since she left Sui no Sato and what she has left she sees no future for herself in it; she focuses on what it means for everyone but herself. And if she dies then that’s just how it is.

This is uncomfortably reminding me of myself and Vaste ahahaha.

When she grows past this I think she’d be sensitive to reading when someone is going through the same lows. Especially after being with Vaste and seeing how suicide also impacted her. She pulls from their shared experience on it and is the first to discourage people or open herself to listening. Its double serious for her, coming from the mentality of “I am disposable.”.

One of the big themes I have with my characters is bonding though shared suffering; I would apply the same logic to Yugiri. Once she embraces the suffering she has endured, has caused, and has seen others carry she can become more understanding as well. I feel like she would see it as a rebirth in her mind as much as it is from a writing angle. She has died twice now; everything after is witnessed by fresh eyes.

Symbolically she may hold a funeral for herself or another gesture in a similar connotation such as reciting the Mantra of Light- if they have Buddhism or its equivalent in this universe. I kinda want to believe they would since we already have a Shintoism proxy. They have a Shinto wedding by the way 😳 Moss knows what it looks like because I wrote a quick prose mock-up for them hffdgdg I have pages of notes just for Yugiri's attire details

Of course this coincides with Vaste's presence itself granting her aether new powers. That was intentional because I love when character growth progresses alongside their abilities and potential. Forcing her to get greater powers also forces her to continue honing her self control as much as her physical prowess. The responsibility expands her good qualities while encouraging continued reflection on her bad ones.

The new sense of greater power also helps her feel less powerless and better able to help others. I don't just mean her fighting skills. Back in SB when she was devastated at seeing Domans shun her for wanting to help them, her powerlessness was mostly from naïveté. She saw these people not from an empathizing human perspective, but as an outsider who wanted to play hero. They were a concept, a picture painted by what her soldier and royal friends had told her- a project in need of saving. Facing the reality humbles her, and I think gaining independence (as well as being open to the perspectives of those around her) after separating from her bubble keeps helping her progress in this.

In terms of her fighting skills through, they aren't just honed, but she's in greater tune with her body and aether than ever. She recognizes the increased responsibility it comes with too to prevent hurting the wrong people in a fight, as well as scaling herself in battle depending on her objective. Her superhuman speed and reflexes are phenomenal; combined with her control over lightening aspected aether, she becomes known as the God of Lightning to those who've witnessed her.

She kills Zenos by the way- I'm sick of her getting bodied every time they've met like she can't fight at all not even landing a single hit. She masters her glow up and blitzes his ass to death. Vaste doesn't kill him because it's what he would want and she also feels Yugiri deserves the satisfaction.

I have things I want to write purely showing off embracing her powers, and what mastery would look like. She's as precise as Vaste, and with upgrades she gets downright surgical. Lighting also has uses besides frying people, like letting her touch resemble a stun gun, or used for cooking and lighting fires if she wants etc.

Also yes I don't think she can cook. Simple things like rice balls or skewering fish over fire? Maybe, but nothing that requires cooking actual meals. From the way it seems she left Sui no Sato too young to have realistically learned much about cooking from her parents. If that changes or I get corrected information I'll reconsider it. For now from what I remember she would've had to leave home permanently as a teenager since when first meeting Shun she was a younger child. Especially since she took years to move up the ranks of her ninja training before she was considered a master.

Point is the game is rather vague about it, so that's what I'm going with. She knows survival skills for the field, but not so much life skills. Life skills take a backseat when your life is framed as disposable. What she can remember from her parents lessons at this point is probably hazy. It would be interesting to think her dad tried showing her a bit on stone masonry though. Since they live under the Ruby Princess there's a good chance women in that community are treated fairer. Maybe her dad would've tried preparing her to inherit the trade alongside her brothers.Those skills would be useful and an important tie to her heritage.

I think she keeps up with it from time to time, talking about stone quality, chiseling, building, different types etc. Most likely she can tell you something about if a stone incorporated building is livable. In the epilogue she runs a dojo for a non lethal version of the marital arts she learned as a ninja, but she also reconnects to stone masonry. Their new village will never be Sui no Sato, but it starts taking influences for every carpenter she helps or fellow stone mason she advises. Her younger son learns from her and continues the trade. She encourages him just as her father did for her; though the tradition it keeps her father alive in her heart.

Stonemasonry also allows her access to working on gravestones for the locals. When she does it feeds into her relationship with death. She gains a greater intimacy with it, with how the dead should be treated, a greater understanding, how she wants to be memorialized when she dies etc. It puts her in contact with the grieving in ways that let her help rather than destroy as she once did. It helps her find peace while contributing to her penance.

Plus it's funny imagining her trying to cook still learning like "Making dinner for my amazing boy girlfriend~" meanwhile Vaste and the others are like "Who the fuck is burning down the kitchen???!" Before they run in to save it (Lewena crying over the cheese being safe, and Mercuo & Syv hugging the wine bottles)

So if I had to sum the transition it's:

- Soldier blinded by power, naivety, misplaced loyalty, lies, and dehumanization ->

- Questioning purpose, re-evaluating loyalty as a concept, reconnecting with humanizing herself, discovering her boundaries, desires, and needs, questioning those around her ->

- Accepting her flaws and free will, doubling down her resolve, realizing she has the power to choose and change her world, acting on this change ->

- Being self assured yet humble, daring yet measured, calm and knowing when to act or when to wait, embraces her identity and personhood, tempered but fluid who knows where her principles lie

And finally everything carries her forward after magic and gods are gone. What she's learning are life skills, reclamation of humanity. Building her strength of character can only leave her a better person. She becomes patient, expressive, strengthens her honesty, solidifies her self worth, knows her wants and needs, sets boundaries, and is empathetic to others without robbing them of agency/objectifying them. Her views on violence calm too, and she matches Vaste's "No killing, violence only when necessary" philosophy. There's been more than enough war for the both of them; more than enough needless blood on their hands.

As a parent later on this tuning toward humanity and the world helps so much too. She's a mom who listens first, is honest without ever being demeaning or cruel, leads by example, and tries to reinforce balance constantly. She would never leave anyone feeling left out or confused on purpose; they will always know they're loved and won't be spoken over. She refuses to let her temper get the better of her whenever it's difficult.

Her kids will not repeat her ignorance nor her own parents mistakes. That's something she and Vaste have on their minds without hesitation. Also we have proof family is important to her because of how much she talks about missing them as is. It's about recognizing the humanity in others. It's about learning to listen to people over treating them like something to save. A reversal of her primary negative character trait.

She's the one who chose the kanji for their Doman/Hingan (Japanese) names too, after talking it over with Vaste. Yoshino's name reflects her being goodness and a blessing, while the boys names I HC are her brother's names, just different kanji. I thought it would be important to her character to honor them like that if she had sons. Ujihide's name is spelled to mean Family Flower (helping to reflect being born during Spring- EDIT: in double checking my research it can also mean the calyx of a flower, which is the green protective layer for an unopened bud, reinforcing a comment in the next section- consider also the meaning Family Protector), while Yoshitsugu's means Inheritor of Justice / Continuing Justice .

* As a side their Zulu names in order mean Peace/Silence, Threshing/Divination (as well as bird wings flapping- which links again to Zulu interpretation of birds as change, another meaning is to extinguish flames, the most common meaning is To Beat), and Victory. The first continues the theme of Yoshino representing hope and blessings as the eldest; meanwhile as the older twin, Ujihide's name reflects protection for his younger brother.

In the old days of both Zulu and Japanese culture twins were a bad omen and undesirable. It actually surprised me over the years to learn how many cultures have hated and feared twin births; there's a lot of negative superstition. If I had to guess the bulk of it comes from twins being a harder birth with a higher mortality rate. And how rare multiple babies in one go is. So when Vaste realized there was a second baby in there she named the older one something to repel bad luck. It's also a slight tongue in cheek joke because it's like his birth divined the coming of his brother after him.

For Yoshitsugu, Manqoba just means Victory or Winner. Yugiri agreed with her that since he was born a bit of a runt compared to his siblings and seemed reserved even as a baby, he should have encouraging names. They don't play favorites, but they do pay close attention to learn what makes him confident and sociable, and when he'd like alone time or to be in his thoughts.

In closing on her I want to write a character who's Vaste's foil, I wanted to fix how the story left her behind and flesh out what she has, and I want yet another example to prove the point that you can only change corrupt systems by stepping outside them. I want to expand a character I like by applying my narrative style.

Right now for Yugiri music, I’ve been listening to Khamsin’s theme off the MGR OST: The Hot Wind Blowing

On a personal note, when it comes to portraying Yugiri I'm very sensitive to avoiding racist stereotypes. I always try being mindful that I don't show/write her as the Submissive Asian Woman or the Cold Scheming Dragon Lady Asian Woman, or the Naturally Smarter Than Everyone Asian Woman. I'm not Asian so I will never be perfect at avoiding these, but I do everything I can when I check my drafts over and over to think about what I include, why I include it, and how the portrayal comes together.

As with my dark skin characters and Vaste I also encourage any East Asians who might find my Yugiri portrayal to correct it if they want. Racism is rampant in fandom and I've even seen people not just hurl slurs but substitute Chinese for Japanese in FFXIV's influences and vice versa; the old "All Asians Look The Same/Are Interchangeable" racist belief. It is beyond offensive and exactly what I wish to avoid, so I advise any non Asians writing Yugiri to be mindful too. If you write a racist portrayal you deserve to get called the fuck out.

The source material gave us scraps; they really are doing another underutilized another interesting dynamic a character can bring while making more for the fucking hollow boring Scions. It sucks, she’s not even the only character they do it to (certainly not the only woman either); in general a lot of the side stuff is better than the MSQ honestly. I also think its so funny that Lyse got more development once she left them, only to get thrown in the Female Character Development Waiting Cell, where she’s still sitting holding her Gucci handbag to this day.

EW was the first time since HW they tried injecting meaningful personality and character development into Scions but I feel like it was both too little too late plus feels shallow after two interim expacs of nothing consistent. Purely from a character writing perspective; obviously they push the story along but that's all they do which is the problem fksdofk (the Twins are in this weird middle ground on that in my eyes though, Urianger is on thin ice)

Anyway time for Estinien

Bestie <3

The biggest thing I love about him is how independent he is. In a game full of people riding your ass over anything to the point of a hollow personality, love seeing someone find a middle ground. His arc revolves around healing and inner peace, above all being true to himself. Yes he can be funny but people get way too caught up making him a meme or rude rather than pay attention to anything else.

He has heart, which is something he guards beneath the rage. Maybe guard is only part of it; he spent all his life focused on anger and revenge I think he forgot it in the back of his mind. It wasn’t as important as killing Nidhogg, and making sure everyone and everything helped do so. The longer it goes on though the more he realizes whats happened to him by drowning in hate; he was never totally blinded in order to do that, whatever he might’ve thought otherwise. He was on the path of losing his humanity. And that fact conflicted with a desire to let go and a desire to hold on.

He shares enough in common with Vaste like this that despite his initial rudeness I think she could tell in his eyes there was more going on. She saw what she was becoming whenever they first spoke. That bonded them right away beyond sharing being Azure Dragoons. He wasn’t in a position to truly help her then because of his own problems, but he would’ve been dispensing advice without realizing it. His honesty continued to be refreshing and grounding too as time passed with people continuing to dehumanize or idolize her.

I love his self reflection, in fact I think he’s one of it not the best at it of the entire cast. The fact that it started not when Nidhogg died but during them being bound together speaks to both the wounded child and unfulfilled man he was beneath rage. The moment he learned the truth of the Dragonsong War, when he felt Nidhogg’s being within himself, he’s been on a journey of understanding. He recognizes Ishgard’s corruption both in the present and the past, which led him to remove himself from an oppressive system while doing penance for his sins and the sins of his heritage in good deeds.

He knows he has a responsibility, and he’s acting on it in tangible ways when he helps Dragons and honors them.

He’s a guide for how I want Vaste to be; a warrior who recognizes who he is, what he’s done, and how he may be part of the community of humanity.

I wanna talk about why I think he’s out of touch at times and not great with socializing beyond Dragons.

It makes complete sense while also explaining how out of touch he is with things others see as normal (including money spending). He picked up the spear at age 12-13 and never put it down; literally and metaphorically training was what he did whenever he wasn't asleep. Alberic probably tried teaching him life skills, but it went unheard if he did. He still has a childlike grasp of things like buying for himself, taking care of himself, others reactions or thoughts about what he might say/do, self care etc.

Of course he’s like that! He never saw the value in being anything other than a tool for his own vengeance! Only years later once he’s come out of revenge can he see he’s stunted himself. I feel as if he’s playing catch up on this too since Heavensward, not just his wandering warrior philosophy. Speaking of that he reminds me of Raiden in Metal Gear Rising, accepting violence and combat as the fabric of his identity, but using it to help the weak and personal atonement. Often times this level of self acceptance when it comes to a negative trait is written so negative action has to be the result. Its nice to see a subversion thats meaningful without being another “Give in to your darkness while accepting no consequences”

Also when he was a villain, I was living for it. I loved when he and Nidhogg shared the role because from a character stand point it made sense. The game had this track record with its villains where they reflected the flaws in the world or society that produced them. Nidhogg reflected the suffering a greedy militant nation will inflict on another race when it stands to benefit; Estinien reflected the despair single minded hatred brings as it eats away who you are and your human essence. Ysayle saw the paranoid murders, rapes, classism and abuses of power rampant in Ishgard which made her side with the oppressed, its foundations built on slaughter of a minority. Yotsuyuu as we know was sexually sold and abused every way by the standards her country upheld, how it viewed women. Fordola is brainwashed, manipulated, and groomed into a reflection of her conquerors.

Really it was a fantastic tradition the Warriors of Darkness then later Meteion continued (I fucking loved Meteion & Hermes actually)- and then people amounted it to memes. Estinien and the others deserve better than that. Heavensward tied his struggles in a way that showed how mental weakness from our faults and deprived needs makes us easy prey for manipulation. Through him it deepened a personal aspect to what Nidhogg and Ysayle were doing; in the sense where the game gave us three characters exploring the failings of Ishgard and war itself. Had the expansion solely relied on Thordan to make its point then it’d be paper thin.

You could see every Heavensward villain/antagonist except for Thordan, and some villains in Stormblood (Yotsuyuu & Fordola) as having It Has To Be This Way fit over their fights

Estinien is great not only for his arc progression and down to earth personality, but because he’s one of the last symbols of when the game was at its best. A time when the game narrative started moving up with stumbles and promise. It took until Endwalker for me to feel even a fraction of that old thrill again. The writers saw they needed a foil character further commentating on when violence becomes senseless; fuck if they didn’t deliver.

His dedication to his agenda first continues to be a breath of fresh air; I want more characters who recognize when they contribute to oppression as he did then take steps doing something about it. I want characters who evolve their philosophy. Every time I see him being a dragon’s biggest fan asking nothing in return its a highlight. Because I remember when he would’ve butchered them all.

He’s my beloved for doing so. The game features mature topics, and characters like Estinien execute on the theme. They better not fuck him up or I’m adding him to my collection. Also him and Aymeric have a thing going on, bisexual husbands. Estinien sees he's fucking up when he does and he learns to correct his behavior. More male characters need to learn that shit, even in general. He loves fiercely. His word is his honor. He understands himself. He is healing. Love this fucking man.

Also I forgive him for anything bad because he worked on it or is working on it so he has always been my babygirl. I see a lot of myself in him too.

So the last bestie is...

Mercuo

I thought about using Gan but I’ve been feeling him ^ lately. Next time I’ll talk about Gan and also his design. Not everyone in the Guardians of Time agreed with or liked Vaste at first. In fact only Weyd, and Syv took a definite positive interest in him on first impressions.

You can argue Lewena somewhat liked her when they first met based on what I wrote a long time ago; however I don’t count it since Lewena’s thoughts were doubts and anxiety. Also she only exposed a glimpse of her powers because she thought it fit the situation while trying to show Vaste a ‘Look I’m special too its not just you’ side. Trying to show her value next to a famous person.

The others had a range of conflicting emotions or self doubts about if she could understand them, because of their low self esteem and differing views. Mercuo’s reasoning made him emotionally withdrawn and externally curt. He didn't dislike Vaste herself so much as the fact that as WoL she's an authority figure, she's allowed the privilege of sanctioned violence. He didn't trust her responsibility nor the role itself because authority betrayed him. He's seen intimately how ripe for warping it is, to the point he questions it's usefulness since it creates an exploitable imbalanced dynamic.

TW: Child Sex Abuse mention

As in his backstory the trauma of seeing the man who became his father figure molest and attempt assaulting children was the final shattering of his faith in authority figures. His parents had already given him up long ago, the priests before he entered the knighthood by and large didn't expect much, and everyone lorded over him because he was from The Brume and a Duskwight. Not to mention his father figure almost got the chance to molest him as well which was further devastating in hindsight.

He has reason not to trust the authoritative individual; he had an idea not to trust the system because Ishgard and poor people don't mix, but seeing it defend his pedophile mentor because he was highborn is the final straw. He puts trust in others when they earn it, and he has every right to. He and Weyd get along because she is genuinely forward thinking as a person and how she sees class systems.

She's seen firsthand the greed of Ul'Dah and the piranha tank it becomes at the drop of a hat. She's seen the neglect of the common man, the bribes, the brutality as policy, the corrupt divided powers. They have similar feelings in common. She had to earn his respect from tireless communication as well as her bearing. The heaps of money for his services was the plus. Vaste has to match that energy and conviction to him; he has to see by her actions she's intent on defying a system.

So first impressions wise he has no idea on any of this so he's on edge. He warms up the longer he spends time around her but the real shift comes when she opens up. Like Yugiri he has a crisis moment in their friendship. How can he feel anything toward a kid killer other than rage? She didn't get upset with him for not wanting to be near her for a time. He spent a long while thinking on it and on how she wants to change.

He thought about how the system broke her down to be capable of it, of how the Templar Knights did similar with him. He was a cop at the end of the day, he'd seen his share of police brutality in Ishgard. Back then though he was too young as a teenager to fully grasp the weight of what he saw and did beyond gut emotions.

In the end what bridged the gap was how hard he saw her trying. She put her money where her mouth was rather than mope but take no action. She started defying the Scions openly, and spoke out whenever she could. He watched her closely to find a grasp on her humanity. Not only that but she came up with the most insane plan he ever heard, killing gods so no one else can suffer as much as they did. This spoke to him, as a Duskwight, as a poor class Ishgardian, as a man.

They became hard friends once they reconciled these differences. If she had been only about her words he would've never changed his mind nor given her trust. If she wasn't serious she'd never have shared with him such a batshit crazy plan either. He understands she's in pain and is paying for it, like he is when he remembers his father figure, how he had to kill him for what he'd done. It's built on compassion and some empathy.

Otherwise though he's a romantic, a risk taker, an adventurer through and through. I don't just mean romantic in that he treats G'azef like a king either; he views the world as full of beauty in unexpected moments. Walking though nature is beauty, walking through towns is beauty, the moment when something gives you a full feeling in the chest is beauty. Hearing others laugh and share stories, joys over drinks is beauty. Sharing pain, is beauty. It's intimacy with the world around you that's romantic.

He's not shy toward new experiences either, though he won't do things he finds obviously stupid. If someone isn't getting him into a new thing then he's breaking their shell in a heart to heart way to do the thing too. Whereas Gan is obvious and enthusiastic when doing this, Mercuo can be that but also subtle. It's about reading situations, which he's done to survive since childhood. As a side effect it made him good at reading people and their emotions.

He keeps up loyalty to places and people he cares for. Chasing Comet's bar the 'Star Dancer' is one such place. He loves everything there, drinks, food, the company etc. Chasing Comet and Kind Dawn love his listening ear or hearing him jumpstart a good party or wild story. They also know him as one of the few who consistently pays his tab. Whenever they need help he'll jump in if able, which always helps. Comet can see on his face that he does things out of earnest, because it's right; it's a trait she finds is lacking in others. So he always has a home there, even on the occasions he does mischief.

He and K'ali do jockey each other over getting work as mercenaries, but there is respect. They may tease and bicker and be petty but neither does anything genuinely insulting. They respect each other's work ethic, skills, charisma and so on. There's been times where he's seen her off beneath the swashbuckling demeanor and stepped in; either with a word or by paying for her tab.

The times when she's been too distraught inside to remember to shave were his first clue that she's intersex, but he didn't bug her about it. He saw her anxiety over forgetting to upkeep how she presents and had the tact not to treat her any different.

When she finally did confide some in him, he was accepting. He also knows how much she cares for her brother N'ali. He wishes he had a family relationship like that; as time passes he gives that role to Syv somewhat. In any case he sees she has heart even when she's being a shit. Without her around things would be less bright.

The sword to him is so important because despite the painful memories he has using one, it's still symbolic of finding his first calling. Of finding freedom out of the slums and loneliness. Nothing can ever take that half away. He trains to the point it moves as an extension of his body; a skill he's proud of beyond belief. It is both an art piece and a tool of death to be respected. He and G'azef met through the sword too. They fight side by side as each other's embers in the clashes of life. They are in love so thoroughly to embody the sword in one another.

I really like Mercuo. I really like all my characters even when I struggle to fill them out. So moving forward I want to do more little by little.

Also I like fitting him in clothes with huge collars because it makes his head hilariously tiny but it works

#hc #so fitting that i was listening to the Metal Gear Rising OST writing this lol #'I CARVED MY OWN PATH; YOU FOLLOWED YOUR WRATH- BUT MAYBE WE'RE BOTH THE SAAAMMEEE'- narrative foils have done so much for us as a society #nhaama #to live this way

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jmwriters · 2 years

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The Circle

What is a circle? Have you ever really stopped to think of the definition of a circle? Such a common symbol in our culture and yet what does it really mean?

The dictionary defines it as:

1. a round plane figure whose boundary (the circumference) consists of points equidistant from a fixed point (the center).

2. a group of people with shared professions, interests, or acquaintances.

I have been thinking about this more recently given the state of things in our world and what we as Humanity have been going through and are in the midst of now with so many things happening globally. We have been through so much division in this country and globally. So much is happening everywhere on our planet. It seems so appropriate to apply the principle of the circle to all of this as Grandmother Pa’Ris’Ha has taught me over the years that I have known her.

She has always spoken of how we have to come together as a species around the circle. "There are no sides she says." In the years that I have known Grandmother Pa’Ris’Ha, I would love to hear her stories of her childhood and how she was raised. I was always enthralled to listen to how they would get together in the council house in a circle and make decision and resolve conflicts. I Always remember thinking what an amazing way to resolve things. There are no sides. There is no right or wrong. Whatever the difference is just means you sit on the opposite side of the circle.

The first definition describes the circle as “equidistant points from a fixed point, the center." Think about this for a moment. What is the common denominator? The Center. What comes to my mind as I think about this is that at the center is the "The Source", whatever and however you define that source, God, Allah, Buddha, etc. It is the One that is in all things. Therefore, we all emanate from the same "source."

Imagine what world we could all create if we all believed in this as a human species. There are no differences between us there is no color of skin, there is no religion, there is no separation of countries and governments. We are all the same. This is what Grandmother Pa’Ris’Ha has taught me.

Imagine a world like this. This is my choice at this time, I choose to see a world where we can do this; where people live in peace and harmony with each other; where when we have differences we can come to the circle and discuss them just as in the Council house as Grandmother Pa’Ris’Ha shared. In the circle we recognize the opposites. We can't have love if we don't have hate, we can't have white if we don't have black, we can't have light if we don't have dark. We live in a world of duality. We must have opposites. It is how we observe these opposites that becomes the key. But one thing that I have learned and really understood more deeply lately in all my time with Grandmother Pa’Ris’Ha is that I cannot make a judgment or choose a side. I need to be the observer. In judging it I only fuel it. I don't stand against something. I stand FOR something. I really understand this now.

With so much happening in our world and seeing how information is manipulated and distorted has really put me in that place of " observer." And I thank God every day for the gift of Grandmother Pa’Ris’Ha in my life because she has been that beacon of light shining the way and I am eternally grateful for that.

The second definition is about a group of people with shared interest and professions. What comes to my mind as I write this is about the concept of community? Community is about being part of a circle of people. In Scott Beck’s book The Different Drum he states, " In and through community lies the salvation of the world. For the human race today stands at the brink of self- annihilation." When I read this statement, it hit me hard.

We have lost our sense of community. We are definitely far from the early settlers of New England where in a sermon preached by John Winthrop, the fist governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, in 1650, speaking to his fellow colonists shortly before they set foot on land, he urged them. " We must delight in each other, make others' conditions our own, rejoice together, mourn together, labor and suffer together, always having before our eyes our community as members of the same body. "

We definitely have strayed far from this. I have seen how things have changed so drastically especially with technology from not only when was I was a kid (it didn't exist) but just in having my own kids, who my eldest is 31. There was not so much emphasis on technology my kids played out on the streets in our neighborhood. They played with toys, they played hide and seek on our street (much to my neighbor’s chagrin). Kids having cell phones in elementary school was unheard of. Neighbors hardly talk anymore. I have been fortunate that I live in area where I have made a point to make community with my neighbors. I bake and take them goodies, when someone new has moved into the neighborhood I have taken them a welcoming gift and introduced myself. We used to have block parties as I was growing up. We would block off the street and all the neighbors would bring pot luck and there was music and the kids would play. So much fun! And such wonderful memories of community.

I have planned to implement this in my neighborhood. I have had this inclination for some time now and I thank Grandmother Pa’Ris’Ha for introducing me to the book by Scott Peck, The Different Drum because I fully understand where my inclination is coming from now. We need to start ' community" again. We need to start even of its with block parties! We need to connect with each other as a member of community. We must begin as individuals to change the course of how things are going in our world. It is up to us!

To reach back and grab the hand of your neighbor and pull them forward is to lift up the community as a whole! And THEN we will have come full Circle.

This is my vision!

MAJ.

This post originally appeared in JMWriters blog. Republished by permission.

#Pa'Ris'Ha Taylor #Grandmother Pa'Ris'Ha #life skills #inspirational #spiritual mentor #life #brain science #quantum #personal development #community

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seiyasabi · 3 years

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Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc..

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) )

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt.

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for.

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare.

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed.

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?”

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.”

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone.

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.”

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her.

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences.

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that.

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!”

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before.

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh.

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage.

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home.

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces.

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before.

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor.

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this.

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso.

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably.

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!”

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat.

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.”

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well.

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.”

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!”

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid.

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form.

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone.

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face.

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it.

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight.

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling.

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well.

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him.

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?”

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you.

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets.

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt.

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties.

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!”

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart!

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal.

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly.

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.”

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can.

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute.

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so.

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties.

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.”

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead.

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you.

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour.

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you?

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?”

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before.

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny.

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you.

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on.

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing.

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls.

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more.

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest.

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth.

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you.

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously.

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it.

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven.

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you.

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?”

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin.

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading.

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh.

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.”

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive.

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table.

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation.

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you.

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket.

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?”

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera.

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you?

#yelena #yelena x reader #yandere yelena #yandere aot #yelena brainrot #yelena aot #aot x reader #yelena thirst #yelena smut #yelena supremacy #yandere aot x reader

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

A Failed Betrothal (Part 3)

There were a lack of stuff to read so I posted this instead.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

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PART 3

The next day was weird to say the least for everyone but for Marinette, it was another can of worms that she wished she didn’t open. For one thing, Chat Noir’s feelings obsession for Ladybug switched from one black-haired girl to another which unfortunately was Ladybug’s civilian form. Which meant Marinette had to deal with Adrien’s Chat-Noir-level flirting and bad pick-up lines.

Perfect, just perfect.

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Everyone thought that a declaration speech of ‘being soulmates and the only one for him’ in front of the whole class from the ‘love of your life’ would warrant a ‘blushing to death and stammering’ or ‘outright fainting’. Not a facepalm, a groan, “Why me?” and a “I am sorry but NO. I don’t feel the same way about you”. Marinette vaguely wondered if there was some kind of rule for interesting events and confrontations to happen during lunch break while the class waits for Mme Bustier to start the lessons.

Marinette went to sit in her seat next to Chloe in the back row where she and her friends had been exiled to. The class was in stunned silence and questioning about whether or not they had fallen into an alternate universe or dreaming. Nathaniel and Alix tried to hide their snickers. Chloe just started outright laughing, turning very red in the face.

Marinette felt a nudge from Plagg in her bag. Looking down, she saw them holding up her phone to show Lila’s gaping face of horror with a wicked smug grin on their face. She looked through the photos to see everyone’s faces of confusion and shock at her rejection. Eyes wide and jaws dropped on the ground. Different shots of her classmates in the same state. She smirked and showed them to Chloe who calmed down enough, letting out the occasional giggles and took the phone with glee.

“Thank you, Plagg. Here you go.” she whispered, giving them a camembert macaron.(Tom had started experimenting with camembert in his recipes. Plagg is his first taste tester for all of them, making Tom one of Plagg’s favourite people.)

Adrien didn’t take the rejection very well.

“But we are meant to be. You are a designer and I am a model. Our partnership is the one to be envied by many for the ages.”

“And by that logic,” The designer turned to her main model for her MDC website, “Chloe, my love, will you be my one and only? For our love shines so bright ,paralleled only by a thousand suns.” Using the same voice Plagg does when they go on one of their love odes about camembert before losing her straight face and giggling.(Plagg doesn’t know whether to be offended or amused.)

Setting Chloe’s laughter off again. “Mariiiii,...stop….I can’t..*gasps*....I can’t…”

Nathaniel and Alix, finally lost control and joined Chloe in death by laughter. Adrien was flustered, turning red in the face either from anger, embarrassment or both.

“But Chloe isn’t a model.”

Marinette decided to put a stop to this, just on the off chance that Gabriel finally decides to akumatized his own son. She recomposed herself.

“She is the main model for my website and we have a partnership. You, however, work for your father. So does Miss Rossi. Does that sound like the partnership to be envied by many for the ages? Hmmm, Agreste? Anyways, like I said before, I have no interest in dating you.”

“Why not? We are friends and sometimes, friends like each other enough to date each other.” Adrien angrily asked.

“Because-”

“Because, Adrikins,” Chloe cuts in, “friends having to date because one of them is interested in something more makes no sense and is fucked-up. Marinette doesn’t owe you anything. Besides, she already has a long distance boyfriend who lives in America.”

“WHAT!?” Adrien shouted.

“What?!” The class had snapped out of their stupor. Since when had Marinette gotten over Adrien and had a boyfriend?

“What?” Marinette looked at Chloe with wide-eyes. Last she checked she was still single so what the hell was Chloe playing at. For Kwami’s sake, she hadn’t been on a date since the one with Luka which went awkwardly before they agreed that they think of each other as siblings and it will be best to stay that way.

Chloe gave her a look that said ‘I will explain later.’

“Oh yes, they met online a few months ago and now they are all lovey-dovey together. It’s just so ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous how disgustingly in love they are. They have video call dates at least once a week and somehow make it work despite the time differences. He once came all the way to Paris just to see her. He brought her some special flowers that apparently meant-”

Marinette slapped her hand over Chloe’s mouth. “Well, Chloe, Queenie, as much as I love you as my friend, you can stop gushing about my love life now. Because class is about to start.”

She said through gritted teeth as Mme Bustier finished taking her sweet time and walked in. Sadly, Alya wasn’t done with the conversation ,“Wait a minute, since when did Chloe and you become close enough that she is modeling for you? And a boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me, Girl? I thought we were friends. What about Adrien, he just confessed to you and you had been crushing on him for so long” Many girls gasped, angry that Alya broke the unspoken girl code.

“You have a crush on me?” Adrien looked hopeful. Like a lost kitten that had been stuck in the rain, was let into someone’s home.

“I had a crush on you,” Marinette corrected him, emphasising on the past tense, “and Alya had no business of sharing that information to the entire world despite us not being friends anymore.” She glared at the journalist who at least looked ashamed.

“You wanted to date Kagami so I moved on.”

One of the reasons anyway. I found out that you were my partner who had no concept of boundaries. You are a coward who only wants to maintain the class peace at the price of my mental health, she thought.

“Instead of continuing to pursue you.” She hoped the ever dense and oblivious model would get the hint she gave him. Tikki ,just this once, Grant me that ladybug luck.

“And Mme Bustier, it is time to start the lessons, don’t you think? Instead of focusing on the class drama to gossip about later on.” Marinette glared at the teacher, reminding her to do her job.

“Oh. Right.” Mme Bustier tried to regain her ‘perfect teacher’ image after getting embarrassed at being caught, “Right. Class, turn to page-”

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As soon as the bell rang for the end of school, Marinette dragged Chloe all the way to her room. Alix and Nathaniel followed them because as far as they know, Marinette had no boyfriends and they were as curious to find out what scheme Chloe had cooked up this time. They were as complicated and crazy as Ladybug’s. No offense, Marinette.

“Okay, Queenie, you have to explain why I now have a devoted American boyfriend who I am so in love with.” Marinette crossed her arms with a frown aimed at Chloe. The kwamis got out of their respective hiding places and went to the tray of food set out for them.

The trapdoor to her room opened, revealing the rest of their friend group before Chloe said anything.

“Did we miss anything?” Kagami asked as Longg and Sass joined the other kwamis.

“Juleka said something about an American boyfriend and how he sounds so romantic. Does that have to do anything with the text Alix sent us to come here?” Luka added.

“To recap, Adrien made a love confession to Marinette,” Alix started, biting into some of the delicious pastries the Dupain-Chengs gave them, ”in front of the entire class after an entire day of flirting and bad pick-up lines.”

“Wow, even after having his memories erased of being Chat Noir, he is still after Ladybug.” Luka chuckled, with the others joining in.

Marinette whined, “It was easier when he was Chat Noir. But now as Adrien Agreste, teen heartthrob, it is going to be much more difficult to get into his thick head that I don’t see him that way and it is going to get harder, now that Alya outed my old crush to him.”

“Oof. Sucks to be you.”

“So, our Mari-bug rejected him. He threw a tantrum and sulked, so like Chat Noir, how did we not notice?,” Alix continued, “After demanding reasons why they can’t date, Chloe gave Marinette an American boyfriend who she was in a long-distance relationship with. Speaking of, why did you do that?”

“I have known Adrik- Adrien since we were in diapers and I know how that mangy cat works. He grew up on Disney and had all those fairytales stuffed into his head. If you had told him that you were just not interested in dating at the moment, it won’t work because he will try his hardest to ‘woo’ you, because he still has a chance. He won’t push his luck as much if you were off the market.” Chloe explained.

“I am sure that, judging by the fact that Chat Noir still tries to date Ladybug despite her saying she is in love with someone, Adrien might try to get more proof of this boyfriend to make sure Marinette is just not pretending to have one.” Kagami pointed out.

“Ahh, but luckily I have a back-up plan. I have a friend, Tim Drake. We met at a few galas when we were younger and kept in touch. He also owes me a favor.”

“I hope this Tim Drake is cute.”

“He is and he’s older than you by two years and,” Chloe typed something on her phone, “A fellow caffeine addict so you can bond over that. Here’s a picture of him and his brother.”

On her phone were two extremely attractive and fit young men dressed in expensive suits at what looked like a gala, the older one had a charming polite smile with bright blue eyes, looking somewhat interested at what someone off-screen was saying despite looking like he will fall over any moment. His brother, however, looked like he would rather be anywhere but where he was. He was tanned and had green eyes that promised murder for daring to even breathe in his direction. Marinette noticed that he looked a little familiar but she can’t place why.

“Tim is the one that looks like he hasn’t slept in days and that’s his brother Damian next to him.”

“Wait a minute. That’s Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. The sons of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire co-CEO of Wayne Industries, which Tim Drake is also co-CEO of.” Nathaniel said with wide eyes and looked at Chloe, “You are using your favor to give our Mari here a fake boyfriend.”

“Of course, only the best for our Mari-bug.”

“Chloe, no, he is probably busy as he is with running the company. No need to get him involved in petty teenage drama.” No matter how much she doesn’t want to date Adrien, bothering a busy guy to be her fake boyfriend is not worth it in Marinette’s opinion. Which, of course, gets overruled by the overprotectiveness of her friends.

“I, for one, think this is one of Chloe’s better plans.” Kagami commented, the others agreeing with her. Traitors.

“Hey!” Chloe exclaimed, an offended look on her face, “Anyways, I will call him later.”

“Children, you better go home now before your parents worry.” Sabine’s voice came from below, “Remember we are also going through some drills tonight so try not to be late.” Having a former assassin for a mother is handy when you want to train a team of teenage superheroes.

“Bye, guys. See you later.”

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“Just because you have been trained since birth does not excuse you from the drills. You also need to get used to the black cat.” Lady Mǔ lǎohǔ reprimanded her with her arms crossed. When Ladybug started her new team, she was the first permanent member but as the team got bigger, she stepped back to be back-up and mentor for the team.

“Yes, Maman, I know but I am nearly finished with this commission. I will catch up with you later. Promise.” Marinette stretched, looking up from her latest project. Plagg was napping in the little basket she had made for all the kwamis to sleep in which fit all of them and had some extra space for Nooroo and Dusuu after they had been retrieved.

The reason she had Plagg instead of Tikki who was with Alix was because of the new tactic the Miraculous Team came up with. To keep the balance the Ladybug and Black Cat must be active at the same time but with Adrien gone, someone must wield the ring until a new permanent holder is found and it was not a good idea for both of them to be on the same person at the same time. The team decided to rotate using the earrings and ring between them with Marinette using other miraculouses when the others have them. It also had the added bonus of making it harder for Hawkmoth to find out who has them at any given time.

“See you later, 灵儿 (líng er, means intelligence). I will give you 15 minutes but that’s it. Don’t be late.” Sabine sighed and got out the skylight and went towards the safehouse where the Miraculous team met to get training. (It is one of Sabine’s emergency safehouse to use in times of emergency and it had the required space to train 6 teenagers. Chat Noir never came to training, lazy cat.)

Marinette never made it to the warehouse.

Because a few minutes after her mother left, the skylight opened to let in five figures dressed in dark colours to easily blend into the shadows like they were trained to be. Too bad they weren’t as quiet. Marinette immediately summoned a bo-staff to defend herself.

One of them lunged at her and she retaliated by hitting the end of her staff to their middle, coupled with a couple more blows and landed one that knocked them out. The others threw throwing stars which she dodged by jumping back. Which landed her to be trapped by the two assassins, whom she didn’t notice, had moved. She cursed in every language she knew as she struggled against them. It led to no avail as she was badly out-numbered. There was a prick on her head and her world went black.

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Plagg awoke to a loud commotion. Irritated, they poked their head out to see their new temporary kit knocked out, tied up and hauled away. Recognizing the kidnappers as assassins of the League of Shadows, they scowled. Ra’s Al Ghul was going to pay.

Plagg may not act like it much but the black kwami was patient and smart. Smart enough to leave a note with an explanation somewhere visible with the messy aftermath of a fight before trailing the assassins. Oh, Roarr’s tiger was going to be pissed once she found out what happened. Wherever they were taking Marinette, it would be best to have a kwami of destruction to help her escape. The night made Plagg almost invisible and allowed to move unseen. They caught up easily and hid in their holder’s midnight hair. Now, their patience came into play. It was a matter of waiting for the right moment to pounce.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop

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(Part 4)

#damian x marinette #ml x dc #maribat #marinette x damian #daminette #betrothal au: take 2 #A failed betrothal #Adrien salt #some Alya salt #yes. i put fake dating in betrothal au #plagg is protective of his kittens #kidnapping

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oswald-privileges · 3 years

Text

ALL RIGHT BUT YOU ASKED FOR IT

Power of Three as a series is just. full of weaknesses, most of which come down to poor continuity and structure. I'm not gonna try and fix ALL of those, bc that'd be laborious as hell, but I will pick out things that I feel are the most egregious as case studies.

What Po3 does have, tho, is an absolutely shining strength in the concept of its three main characters. After twelve books of Blandly Heroic Protagonist Syndrome, Jayfeather is an absolute godsend. He's angry! He's rude! He's unhappy! He's not nice. I Love Him And He's My Son. Lionblaze has his invincible pride (hah) and emergent bloodlust, and Hollyleaf has her moral absolutism and certainty. These are good starting points for characters. Sadly, the lack of continuity undermines what could have been three really good character arcs.

So! I present to you:

HOW TO MAKE "WARRIORS: THE POWER OF THREE" NOT COMPLETELY SUCK ACCORDING TO MY PERSONAL TASTE; A NON-EXHAUSTIVE, NON-CONSECUTIVE LIST BY ME

ONE

- Have there be a persistant, overarching series threat. Sol is a character with amazing villain potential who does literally nothing except hang around, and do exactly 2 Bad Things completely off-screen. This Is Not Good.

- Instead, have him be present from the second book onwards- initially introduced as a friendly but enigmatic outsider who is slowly revealed across the series to be a complete black hole of a personality, a social parasite quietly rearranging whatever community he's a part of to just-so-happen to benefit him as much as humanly possible. His "preach individualism not starclan" methods are not so much values as one strategy out of many. (to those who know me- yes i have a type. no i will not apologise.)

- Maybe his ultimate goal is to dissolve and centralise the clans or something so that he can live out his life as a political puppetmaster in all the cat-luxury he likes. idk it's hard to imagine overall stakes for this rewrite BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL DOESN'T HAVE ANY

TWO

- For gods sake you don't have a series based on the premise of "the main characters develop super powers" and then only have the second power confirmed by the end of the fourth book. I understand the first book mostly focusing on Jayfeather- his powers are obvious from the start, he's got the strongest personality of the three, he gets access to most of the prophecy plot stuff because of them. But you NEED to have the other two show an interest in something concrete happening to them beyond that, and you need to at least hint towards the other two having something unique to them even if nobody clocks it yet.

- Have Jayfeather tell his siblings about the prophecy by the end of book two at the latest. The amount of time he spends noodling around not sharing it with them is inexcusable. It's not that it's out of character for him to hang onto a secret for a bit, it's just that there's no point and it slows everything down. It would be equally in character for him to go to his siblings and be like "look, i'm SPECIAL. well you as well but ALSO ME". Boy starts off as desperate for recognition, what can I say

THREE

- Have Jayfeather discover that StarClan don't withhold signs or information on purpose for the sake of "building courage and faith" or whatever nonsense. Seeing and communicating the future is metaphysically very difficult, so interpreting signs and messages is a genuine skill, or even an art. The cats of StarClan, however, really are just ghosts, much more similar to living cats than the currently living believe. This is the impotus for Jayfeather's discarding of his reverence for StarClan, which remains consistent throughout the series.

- Have Hollyleaf and Jayfeather both still change their cat careers in the first book, but put place more attention on the fact that they basically switched jobs. Have a scene where they end up yelling at each other, because can't the other see how lucky they have it? The tension breaks when they realise they've both lost something important to them- Jayfeather his chance to prove he's as capable as a sighted cat, and Hollyleaf her path to helping her clan in the way she thinks is best. They commiserate together, and reluctantly promise to do the best they can with their lots, so they don't waste the path the other wishes they'd taken. This closeness is eroded over the series as they disagree more and more on the subject of StarClan and its role in their moral choices and obligations.

FOUR

- Speaking of Hollyleaf! I nearly threw my phone across the room when the first Omen of the Stars book claimed that Hollyleaf "worked so hard to discover her power to help her clan". Where, Ms Erins??? I would have LOVED to have seen that!! Hollyleaf expresses absolutely no concern over the details of what power she has/will develop, and only has a couple of scenes even touching on her ambitions to help her clan. She has some vague ideas about becoming leader and like one scene where she gets to do some leadery things, but that never gets followed up on. What does happen is that the whole "warrior code" thing becomes more and more a part of her personality (for no clear reason) until she snaps.

- Hollyleaf going off the deep end is something I wanted so badly to get into and be moved by, because I could see where it comes from! Her moral certainty is fascinating, especially since it's based in something as abstract as the warrior code- which, when you think about it, isn't really... anything. There's no concrete set of rules that make it up, no traditional wording or cat philosophers, not even any fables. It's a handful of agreed-upon, common sense rules- don't cross boundaries, don't take prey that isn't yours, respect your ancestors, and don't murder. That's it!

- So, combining the above points, I think Hollyleaf not being one of the Three should stay, but both the audience and the characters are given good reason to believe she is. By around the third volume, make it so that Hollyleaf has found that her power is to get cats to "Do The Right Thing"- i.e. what she wants them to do. She sneaks off often to see Sol, who teachs her how to use this power. Her siblings are concerned about this new power, having already gotten a glimpse at what Sol can do, but she's confident that she can only use this power for good. Volume-specific plot happens, Sol manipulates her into causing him to win, she is shocked and horrified, and vows to stick ridgedly to what she knows is right i.e. The Warrior Code

- However, the more fervently she tries to stick to this abstract idea, the less it gives her results, the more her power seems to be failing. Believing that StarClan is taking her power away from her, she becomes caught up in a faith-guilt spiral that puts her in the position to snap at the end of the series. By that point it's clear to her siblings that Hollyleaf has no power- she was just very, very good at persuading people to do what she wanted.

FIVE

- Lionblaze is a girl now because I Said So. This Cat Is Trans And There's Nothing You Can Do About It.

- Her relationship with Heathertail stays the same- childhood sweethearts who are torn apart as they begin to understand the nature of the societal divides that exist between them.

- This can be used to contextualise the whole "half clan/outsider blood" thing as a cultural contradiction. In reality, inter- and outer- clan relationships aren't at all rare. They can't be, otherwise the whole society would be inbred out of existence in like five generations. But if at least one society of humans can spend a good 200 years pretending Sex Is Bad And Sinful Actually then cats can have persistant cat-racism in the face of all logic. Heathertail clocks this contradiction, Lionblaze doesn't.

- Her relationship-to-power arc doesn't need changing all that much either, other than starting much sooner and being more consistent. At first, she's completely overjoyed by her power, since unlike her siblings, it lines up so well with her ambition- become the finest warrior any of the clans have to offer. As the berserker rage aspect becomes more prevelent, she becomes more and more disturbed by the fact that she isn't disturbed by what she can do, and that she doesn't want the escalation of her power to stop.

- Tigerstar still does his thing, but Brambleclaw knows about it. He recognises the signs from when his father used to visit him, and tries to train Lionblaze in his own way. She ends up caught between wanting to be a good warrior, and testing the limits of her power.

SIX

- Jayfeather can stay basically the same because he's my perfect little angy boy and nothing needs to change. His arcs can be strengthened by having a more robust relationship with Yellowfang where they try to out-bitch each other, and coming to terms with his internalised ablism. Maybe he has a chat with Mothwing about faith a couple of times. Him furiously lashing out at being offered help transitions into an acceptence and understanding of his abilities more naturally. He never stops being A Grumpy Old Man.

- All fucking past-lives unexplained time travel goes in the BIN. Doesn't fucking happen. You can have that lore dump sprinkled across the books, or come from going deep into the tunnels and having a surreal meeting. Make it properly eldritch-level scary, shake Jayfeather's confidence in the idea of them being just a bunch of ghosts.

SEVEN

- Have the way Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight present very clearly as parents to the Three be explicitly, textually unusual. One of the things I liked so much about the first series was an almost total lack of emphasis on who was mated with who, and who was related or not. It felt very real to how feral cat colonies form, where raising kittens is a communal job. This gets completely dropped the moment series 2 starts and now the cats have monogamy.

- This emphasis on the family unit and fostering close relationships between parents and kittens is deliberate on the part of both Leafpool and Squirrelflight. Their aim is to cover for Leafpool so she doesn't lose her role as medicine cat- something she already gave up Crowfeather for before she was pregnant.

- In that little bit of backstory, have a robust reason for both Leafpool and Squirrelflight to leave the camp while Leafpool is pregnant and giving birth, possibly one that ties into the present day story in some minor way. I don't know how, it would just make that element of the story a lot more ground than "we left, the kits were born, then we came back and everyone was cool with it"

- When it comes to the "I am Not your mother" reveal, Jayfeather and Lionblaze are confused and hurt that they were lied to, but come to the reasonable conclusion that well, since they were raised mostly by Squirrelflight, saw Leafpool often, and are loved by both, they don't hate her. Lionblaze has something of a crisis over being half-clan, possibly initiating an attempted reunion with Heathertail. Jayfeather is more concerned with how other cats will think it makes him lesser, something he's still sensitive too.

- Hollyleaf, meanwhile, completely fucking snaps at the way her mother Violated Part Of The Code. It's a completely irrational reaction, but expected because she's been growing more and more reliant on The Code for the whole series, and less and less stable in her attempts to aid her clan and train to be its new leader.

- Squirrelflight is the one to murder Ashfur. This is easy to work out while reading- she's literally the only one of the four with a motive who isn't a perspective character. The mystery is less around finding out who did it, and more about why she did it (it's very ambiguous as to whether it was an accident or not). The main tension comes from who finds out when.

- Lionblaze is shocked, awed by how far she'd go to protect the three of them, and reassures her she did the right thing (as a way to salve her own uncertainty over her own longing for violence). Jayfeather makes it all about himself because he's Jayfeather- upset that he didn't know immediately, instead of, you know, figuring it out in a few hours because he can basically read minds. They try their best to hide it from Hollyleaf, who is already rattling around the final volume as a full-on antagonist, but are unsuccessful. This almost costs them something incredibly important- possibly Squirrelflight's life.

EIGHT

- the whole plot with the Tribe Of Rushing Water is a MASSIVE can of worms that could be removed from the series without issue. As it is:

- Characterize the Tribe as uncertain of how to fight other cats, because yes, they haven't had to do this before. DON'T characterise them as pathetic, doing whatever their leader says without thinking, and with ancestors who have Given Up

- Have some of the Tribe be really good at the violence. Worryingly good. Have others be sickened by what they're being asked to do.

- Have some of the clan cats reflect on what they've done. Hollyleaf would be all for introducing this society to jesus The Code, but even she might be horrified at being thanked by a tribe cat who can't wait to get out there and win themselves glory, only to be killed a few hours later

- The Tribe begin a new tradition of marking the walls in the mud they use as camoflage in order to commemorate their battles, and memorialise the fallen. One of the characters reflects on the fact that in a generation or two, the Tribe will feel like it's always been this way. How many of their own traditions- those that feel almost like natural law- started out the same way?

- Have Sol as the leader of the invaders, or maybe having insinuated himself into the tribe as a "mediator" and doing his charismatic cult leader thing.

NINE

- Cinderheart isn't a reincarnation of Cinderpelt. She's just named after her bc Cinderpelt saved her mother from a badger. this is because I think the reincanation thing is stupid and I can't think of a way to make it good.

TEN

- No more using tails as hand gestures like covering people's mouths. Never. None of it. It's expunged from existence.

Disclaimer: I haven't read Omen of the Stars yet, so I can't account for anything that might happen in that series that's grounded in Po3. I'm like... two thirds of the way through the first volume. I'm Not Impressed.

#Warrior Cats #warriors #The Power of Three #Jayfeather #Hollyleaf #Lionblaze #long post

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quillsareswords · 4 years

Note

Could you do something with Damian and a really cuddly, clingy, touchy-feely reader? I feel like his brothers would be v confused about the whole situation bc Damian's just chillin and always seems neutral to what's happening while reader is just like, koala bear hugging him and stuff all the time.

Firstly. I love this concept with every fiber of my being because, oh good god, it's me. Thank you so much for bringing this to inbox, because I've been lacking on inspiration lately, and this is just what I need right now. Thanks doll!!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Tim stops dead in his tracks, cereal bowl nearly slipping from his hand as he halts in the doorway to the huge living room. He pauses, before cautiously asking, "What is this? What am I looking at?"

Damian's arm twitches against your back, the only give away that he's been caught off guard. You seem just as relaxed, sprawled on top of him like you've been there your whole life.

You don't even look at him, eyes still glued to the phone screen shining up at you from the floor, which you're facing with your face pressed against Damian's shoulder. "You've known me for five years and you still haven't learned my name? Rude."

He blinks. "Sure, sure. Right. Because it's absolutely normal for anyone to successfully get within a foot of Damian and not get knocked out."

You snort, but it still isn't enough to pry your attention away from your phone. Damian either, as he reads a book over your shoulder, which is settled under his chin. He must be tired or in a terrifyingly good mood, if he hasn't shoved you off in hopes of hiding emotions from his family. That's what he usually does when he gets caught with you, anyway.

He's been tiptoeing around the subject of you for a solid year and half now. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing as you're also a family friend, what with being a vigilante and all. You're Damian's partner, have been for three years, and you're in the manor often enough that you have your own room, right next to Damian's.

Still, even with no clear answers from either of you, the whole family has suspected a relationship for a long time.

But Damian isn't very touch oriented. In fact, he's been known to go to nearly astonishing lengths to avoid being touched at all.

And now here he is, you laying on top of him, out in the open, absolutely unbothered by Tim catching it.

Tim decides quickly not to risk Damian's mood spoiling while he's around, so he backpedals and heads for his room.

• • •

Jason doesn't come to the manor often, but when he does, there's usually a decently concerning reason for it. This time, he's waiting out a possible kidnapping by one king pin or another. You haven't been paying as much attention as you probably should.

Now, he's trotting down the steps from Bruce's office to fix a suspicious rattling noise his motorcycle has been making for a shameful period of time.

However, he stops beside the super computer, looking a little aghast and far too dramatic for the sight.

Damian side-eyes him, still typing away, but his head doesn't move. It really can't, because you're resting your head on top of it.

You're resting your full weight on the back of the chair, which Jason now realizes isn't the tall backed chair that usual sits there, with your cheek buried in the soft looking bush that is Damian's hair. Your eyes are closed, and your arms and draped over his shoulders, hands laying on his chest.

Jason catches himself staring when Damian's side-eyeing turns into a curious glare. Tentatively, Jason points to you, and raises an eyebrow.

Lowly, Damian somewhat patiently answers, "She's half asleep."

Your eyebrows slant together. "Hmm?"

Jason's expression becomes more confused. "She sleeps standing up?"

"Apparently," Damian mumbles.

Jason, more than a little perturbed but Damian's oddly placid demeanor and your absurd sleeping habits, shuffles the rest if the way to his bike, grabbing the toolbox on his way.

• • •

Dick sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket—correction, three blankets, facing the rest of the living room, where Damian sits on one couch, and Duke occupies the other.

"No no, I'm not saying Bella wasn't smokin, I'm just saying that those facial expressions and life decisions were questionable enough to make a guy think twice," Dick tries to reason.

Duke makes a face. "Bro, are you kidding? If a chick stares at you from across a lunch room and you've never spoke to her, you don't even try."

Damian scoffs. Duke raises an eyebrow, and just when he's about to beg for the story of who tied him to a steel chair and forced him to watch Twilight, you shoulder the double door open.

Damian doesn't look up from his newest book, which could be deemed rude if you weren't so close and comfortable with one another. "Evening, Beloved, how was your drive?"

You say nothing. You drop your bag by his feet, crawl the rest of the way onto the couch, and collapse. Your head in on a pillow between Damian's thighs and the arm of the couch, the rest of you divided unevenly between his lap and the rest of the couch.

He glances away from the pages briefly. "Traffic?" His hand slips under your shirt to gently run blunt nails up and down your spine.

For a moment, you're quiet, and neither of the two older men know how to react.

Then, without warning, you wail into the pillow. "Who the everloving fuck drives a Winnebago through central Gotham at six o'clock going fourteen miles an hour?"

Duke barks a loud laugh, before he claps a hand over his mouth in fear of a punishment. But a man can only do so much, so he sits with his hand over his mouth, giggling like a fifteen year old listening to a dirty joke with his parents in the room.

Damian chuckles lightly, white teeth peeking through a little smile that he's trying to suppress, much for the same reason Duke is doing his best not to let you hear him laugh.

Dick is more focused on the two of you, and the fact that his baby brother has grown up and changed for the better so much—

• • •

Cassandra climbs the stairs with some difficulty, thanks to two new sets of stitches and a few too many fresh bruises.

It's nothing a few days of relaxation won't fix. It was worth it, to see Poison Ivy put back behind bars—even if it did take four of you.

Shortly after arriving back, you and Damian had disappeared up to his room, after you'd both been checked over by Alfred. Aside from some intense bruising and a fee cuts and scrapes, you'd both been spared.

She knocks on his door a few times. With no answer, she loudly turns the handle and pushes the door open slowly, giving you enough time to correct her if need be. She knows at least one of you are in here, because the light is on. "Alfred sent me to tell you that there's dinner, if you want–"

She stops. You are, in fact, both in the room. However, neither of you are conscious.

Damian is sprawled haphazardly across his bed, face half squished into a pillow.

You're flopped across his back, horizontal across his bed, likely also with a pillow, but she can't see your face to be sure.

For a moment that feels a little intrusive, she stares, eyes wide. Not because he's in only boxers and you're in shorts and a sports bra (neither are necessarily a new sight, with one makeshift locker room in the Cave and a city with way too many privacy-surpassing emergencies), but because she's never witnessed Damian allowing another person to be so close to him while asleep.

Even on week long stakeouts that confine them to one room, he claims one corner for himself and doesn't tolerate that invisible boundary to be broken, especially when he's asleep.

She wouldn't even be so surprised if you were passed out in his reading chair, or even on a pile of blankets in the floor, or hell, even if you were on opposite sides of the bed. But you're literally as close to him as you could possibly be. And he's still sound asleep.

She closes the door and backs away slowly, a little smile on her face, even though she was too tired to laugh at the joke Bruce tried to crack a few minutes ago.

• • •

Bruce sits, almost impatiently, on a stone bench by the fountain the middle of Gotham City Gardens. The whole family had come here for the day, on invitation of the organization's owners. Of course, not everyone was officially recognized as family by anyone outside the Manor, so there were quite a few plus ones—you being one of them.

Of course you were. You're always invited. Over the years, it's become a running joke. A trip to the grocery store? (Y/N) must be invited. Walking from the W.I. building to an ice cream parlor and back? I bet (Y/N) is invited. At one point, Damian became so simultaneously annoyed and amused by it that for a week, you really did join him on every single outing. No one knows how exactly you made it across Gotham in six minutes flat to help him pick up cereal but by golly you managed it.

Bruce is currently waiting on you and Damian, who swore to meet him here for a few pictures (at Alfred's request). The pair of you had gone off on your own after about an hour of meandering around with his family, and no one has heard from either of you since. He would be worried, but you were both too excited about this to get into any trouble that would risk being sent home early.

Your laughter finds him before you do. It comes from around a corner of tall hedges, and shortly after, so do you.

You're smiling ear to ear, giggling like a school girl, elbows balanced on Damian's shoulders, about as precariously as you are on his back. That is to say, quite stable. Damian is grinning as well, his arms linked around you're knees at his sides to keep you as stable as you are. You've got an ice cream cone in each hand, one obviously having had more attention than the other.

Bruce's heart swells in his chest at the absolute joy on his son's face.

Damian stops not too far, shifting your weight to free one hand. You help, carefully resituating yourself to hold yourself up easily. You hand him the neglected ice cream, resting your now free hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Father," Damian sounds a little winded, and Bruce wonders if the running he heard earlier had been you two. "Somebody found an ice cream bar and insisted we stop before meeting you." He doesn't sound apologetic in the least.

"Hey!" You laugh, flicking the back of his ear as payback.

As payback for payback, he takes the edge of his cone between his teeth, and uses his free hand to give the back of your knee a quick pinch, before he occupies his hand again to tilt the odds in his favor.

You squeal and jerk. "Damian! You're gonna make me fall, and if I go down, you're coming with me!"

Bruce laughs loudly.

• • •

Alfred is on his way to the library to finish the afternoon chores. All he needs to do is straighten up in there, and he can call it an evening. Just in time, too, as one of the local channels is running a Downton Abbey marathon tonight that he doesn't particularly want to miss.

He pushes open the doors to get a little extra fresh air, but pauses just inside the doorway.

Damian is stretched out in one of the plush leather chairs, his long legs propped up by his ankles on the coffee table, head resting limply on the back of the chair. You're curled up in his lap, head on his shoulder, legs folded up on either side of his thighs, arms wound around his back. His hands are folded together on your back. You're both fast asleep.

The elder man is suddenly flooded with memories of the boy's first few months in this manor. In this room, even. He was politely feral, as Bruce had once put it. He was so uncomfortable all the time, though he fought not to show it. It was so new to him, to be openly cared for the way his family tried to care for him. Most people he met back then treated him as the cold, rude, trained assassin that he presented himself as.

So many overlooked the terrified ten year old boy that shook beneath the armor and the weight of the mantels he was expected to take up in so few years.

Of course Alfred had been paying attention to him all this time, all the growing he's done and the man he's becoming. He's always been proud.

But it's here, in this exact moment, that Alfred really takes in how different he is now, compared to then.

Not only did he find the strength and the trust to forge a close bond with you, one that would arguably outlast just about anything it was forced to endure, but he'd fostered such a sweet affection for you. He's found the space within himself to make room for a great love for you, and his family, and his friends.

And you're so good for him. You remind him of the things he could be, if he wanted, and not of what he should be or could have been. You provide him a sense of normalcy when he needs it, and battle ready companion when he needs that.

You look past the blazing armor of controlled aggression and lessons learned to reach the beautiful soul he is. And most importantly, you love him for all of it. You manage to dig so far beyond what he's been taught and the walls he's put up, that you look at what was meant to be the perfect soldier and you see a pillow to sleep on. You trust him with everything, including your vulnerability, just as he trusts you.

Alfred marks the page of the open book on the floor, closes it, and leaves it in the table for you later. He leaves as quietly as he came, in hopes of leaving the two of you undisturbed.

#damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne blurb

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crashdevlin · 3 years

Text

Another Second Chance 18- Therapy

Another Second Chance Masterlist, Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist

Author’s Note: The final (hopefully) installment of the Happily Ever Eventually RPF series.

Summary: Y/n finds herself a new house and Misha is determined to make it a huge project.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word count: 2993

Story Warnings: past cheating, mentions of FFM threesome, not much in this one

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s pretty, right?” I ask, looking around the open concept of the first floor of this $350,000 house.

“Kitchen’s kinda outdated,” Jensen says, pointing at the fridge. “I mean, that fridge has gotta be from when you were in high school.”

“I could buy new appliances, Jay. Get a natural gas stove set up. Install some cabinet pulls, because I’m not a really big fan of this whole lack of elements.” I gesture at the cabinets. “Probably stain it a little darker to go against the flooring. But it’s pretty, right?”

Jay smiles. “Yeah. It’s pretty...and it’s about twice as big as the one you’ve been living in. Which is what you need.”

“Yeah. Walk-in closet in the master, too. It’ll be a good place to put the security hub.”

“Or you could put the security hub in the closet in the den and put your clothes in the master closet,” Jay suggests, grumpy old man in his tone. "And if you're gonna update the kitchen, you gotta update the bathrooms. Get one of those-"

"I am not getting an automatic toilet!" I laugh. "No one needs that!"

"Of course no one needs it but it's freakin' awesome!"

"Okay, Dean," I tease.

"Dean would agree with me. Automatic toilet, with the bidet and the-"

"Dean Winchester would break an automatic toilet and then complain that it's a damn computer which means he can't fix it without help."

Jay laughs. "He'd still think it was cool."

"He'd be down for the heated seat. I will give you that much."

He smiles as he looks around. "So...are we looking at your new digs or what?"

I bite my bottom lip and run my hand over the granite countertop. “Shouldn’t I ask Nova's opinion? It's gonna be her home, too."

"She's a teenager. As long as she's got her own room, I'm sure she's gonna be fine." He sets his hands on my shoulders and smiles. "But you can show her pictures or bring her by before you sit down with the realtor."

I nod and smile. "It's in the right school district and a bigger room for her and for Mav and the bonus room can be an office. I really think it's the place."

"Then get it," he encourages. "Get it, Baby Girl. We can make it perfect. I'm no stranger to a little reno."

"Please," I start, laughing. "A contractor did the work on your old place. Shush."

He looks a little offended. "I helped. I painted. I installed the sink in the half bath off the kitchen."

"Fine. You can stain these cabinets for me." I wink and step away from him. I'm gonna get this house. "Come on." I walk to the foyer where the realtor is waiting and I smile at him. "Can I put in an offer now or should I wait a few hours?" He smiles brighter than the sun.

"You can make an offer anytime, Miss."

Miss. Still young enough to get 'miss'. "Good. Let's do this."

~~~~~~~~~

"Four bedroom, 2 and a half bath, 3200 square feet with an office next to the master bed. It needs some updating and work...had a contractor quote me $60,000 but that's not bad...covers new appliances, too."

"I could come down and help," Misha offers. "You know, a lot of that stuff you can DIY and I can help with most of it."

"You don't have to do that, Meesh."

"Why would I let you spend that much money on something I could help you with for a fraction of the cost?"

"Misha, you really don’t-"

"I'm not letting you tell me 'no' on this. We'll get together some manpower and get this done for you."

He's really not going to let me say 'no'. "Okay. Well, it's going to be several weeks before the paperwork is finished and all that. I'll let you know when it's mine."

"Good. I'll start looking at HGTV.com." Damn it, Misha. Don't be so extra. "And send me pictures and a floorplan so I know what I'm working with."

"Yeah, okay." Really no point in arguing. It's Misha. If I don't send him pics and a copy of the floorplan, he'll just find the house and get them himself off the internet. "I'll send it to you after my appointment tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good. Talk to you then."

"Bye, Meesh." I hang up and sigh. He's gonna make it this whole thing, isn't he?

His house in Washington did come out amazing, though, so he does have some skills that will help in this. Eh, why not? Why not get together with my best friend and make my new home my own?

"So, I get to see this house eventually, right?" Nova says, walking into the living room.

I smile. "Come see all these pretty pictures I took and we can speculate on what craziness Misha is gonna come up with." I pat the couch next to me and she comes over. "This is the view from the street." I start showing her the pictures and she claims a room before I've even finished the digital tour.

"Oh, and you're gonna paint the exterior, right? Like, it's pretty but it's yellow. You're gonna fix that, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure Misha isn't going to let me move into another drab house. You weren’t here the first time he showed up at this house but he had opinions about all of it. I didn't let him talk me into reno last time but this time...I don’t know...maybe this will be the forever home so…"

"It's gotta be custom!" Nova exclaims.

"Exactly."

"Can I paint my walls custom? Or get custom wallpaper done? I know that a lot of people don't like wallpaper but I've seen a few places that got it right and-"

"Yeah, baby, of course. We'll figure out something awesome for your walls." I kiss her forehead. We'll do whatever she wants for her room.

"Yay!"

I love when she's happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been a while since I've been in Dr. McCauliffe's office. Life has been in the way...and I guess I didn’t want her to judge me for my involvement with Jensen...which is ridiculous because she's my therapist. She's not going to judge me.

"So." She taps her pen against her clipboard. "What's new?"

"Well...I have been dating Jensen again. I know you saw that in the news."

"I saw it on Mr. Collins' Instagram, actually," she says with a smile.

"Right. The video. Forgot about it for a minute. Um, yeah, like I said in the video and Jensen said in his...spark's still there, we're giving it another chance."

"How's that feel?"

I bite my bottom lip. "Scary as Hell, honestly. I mean, but it's good. I've done pretty good with boundaries and moving slowly. You know, before...we jumped in head first and everything was this intense passion right out of the gate but this time…" I shrug. "I don't know. Maybe we've grown up, or grown old, but…"

"Have you slept with him?" she asks and it's because she knows that sex was a big issue when I was with him before. Sex was all we were supposed to be in the beginning and sex ruined us in the end. I know why she's asking but there's this...well, it's a bit intrusive, isn't it? It seems like she's judging me for being sexually active and I know that's not what it is but my whole spine goes tense when she asks.

"Yes. We dated for about a month before we started getting physical again."

“And how has that been? I don’t need details, of course, but...emotionally, how has it been to be intimate with Jensen again?”

How to answer that?

Really, how am I supposed to answer that? It’s the best sex I’ve ever had, emotionally fullfilling in a romance-novel sort of way. It’s perfect but it does have its scary moments. “Well, we’ve only actually...slept together a couple times this time. His libido is a lot less than it was. I mean, he didn’t have sex the entire time we were broken up, can you believe that?”

Dr. McCauliffe adjusts her glasses and shrugs a little. “I do not. Five years is a long time to go without sex...but you seem to believe it. That’s what matters.”

I never even questioned it. Should I have? No, because he’s been so honest about everything else. “I went years and years without sex after Nate. I believe Jensen did the same after me. He had a lot going on. He was in recovery for alcoholism. He had to be a good father and work on his career and-”

“You just got very defensive, very quickly. Why is that?”

Fuck, I don’t know. I run my hand over my mouth and shrug. “I don’t know,” I respond honestly.

“Analyze it, Y/n. Why would you get so defensive over my disbelief in what Jensen told you?”

“Because I didn’t question it,” I answer after a moment. “Because he told me that the last time he had sex, real full-penetrative sex, was the time that broke us and I didn’t really question it. I took it at face value because we’ve been doing very good about honesty with each other and what if that’s stupid? What if I’m stupid because maybe he’s lying about it and keeping stuff from me and-”

“You said he’s been very good about honesty so far, right?”

I nod. “Yeah. He’s...he admitted to stuff that I never thought he’d admit to and he apologized for stuff and he’s been open about what happened and why. He’s even been honest about little things that he would have lied about before...like I told him about Will and he Googled him. Used to be, he’d keep that kind of thing to himself, never tell me, but he admitted it without even prompting.” I chew on my bottom lip as she starts scribbling on her notes. “I believe him. It might be stupid but I believe him.”

She sets her clipboard in her lap and smiles at me. “It’s not stupid...and he’s likely changed enough that honesty is important to him. You’ve told me that his recovery has changed him. Jared’s told me the same. Now, it’s a bit hard for me to believe that he’s changed so much in the last five years that he would have abstained from sex since the last time he was with you, but...I don’t know the man, do I? You do. Jared does. If you believe him, then don’t let me change your mind.”

“I believe him. You didn’t see the way he looked at me the first time we...‘Reverent’ is the best word for it.”

“What do you think that means for you?”

I scoot back, leaning against the back of the couch. “I think he’s finally got Danneel out of his head.”

“Do you?” she asks and I hate when she asks things I don’t want to answer. “Danneel was a major roadblock in your relationship before, wasn’t she?”

“You know she was. I was so focused on giving Jensen what he wanted...Danneel...that I couldn’t see that I was what he was supposed to be wanting. I wanted to be like her, couldn’t appreciate myself. I know this stuff, Doctor.” I shift on the couch and sigh. “I don’t wanna be Danneel and I don’t want Jensen to be with her. I want Jensen to be with me...I want him to want to be with only me.” I shrug. “Seems like that’s where we are. He doesn’t even talk to her anymore. I talked to her the other day and she didn’t even know why he doesn’t talk to her anymore.”

“You talked to Danneel again?”

“Yeah. We ran into each other at a shop while I was getting Nova a new dress. It...didn’t go well. Nova was very combative with Danneel. I ended up having to...be very honest with my daughter. She knows about everything now...even the night with Danneel.”

“Oh? How’d that talk go?”

“It was...it was good to get it off my chest, actually. It was like the conversation where I told her about, about why her father and I got divorced. It’s like...It was a hard conversation but it was an important one. I don’t have to...hide things anymore and that’s a blessing. She understands why I make the decisions I make now...she understands...the betrayal was a lot deeper than she even knew. She understands that now and...maybe it’ll make us closer, but at least she knows the truth now.”

“And she’s living with you now, right?” I nod. “How did that happen? Nathan doesn’t seem the type to just allow her to do what she wants.”

I snort. “He’s definitely not, but...he fucked up with Jenny, blew up his marriage. I’m actually surprised it took her this long to realize that he was cheating on her, but whatever. Um...Nova didn’t want to be there for the destruction of his way of life and she asked if she could come to Texas. I convinced him to let her come because she didn’t need to see the parade of his affairs that Jenny would bring up. I then used those women to convince him not to fight me on custody when I refiled. It was…” I scratch at my cheek. “It was a low move, but it’s exactly the kind of move he pulled on me, convincing the judge that I was too unstable to care for her. I don’t feel bad about it, especially since she wants to be here.”

“That’s a big change...on top of other big changes.”

“Yep...and there’s more coming. Because I need more room since Nova is living with me, there will be a new home in my future."

"A new home? That's exciting."

"It is. And I am more excited about it than I am scared so that says something."

"I remember how anxious you were about your first house. I remember all the security options you went through."

"Well, security had to be heavy. I had to think about Tom and his crazy-ass fans and the crazier of Jensen’s fans and the paps. There was that one photographer in Vancouver that climbed the balcony outside the condo to get pics of me and Jay, remember?" I shiver at the memory of looking out the French doors to see a man with his camera, snapping away. So intrusive. "I'm gonna have to put up a privacy fence and a coded gate at the new place, too...and, of course, all the security cameras."

"Sounds like a big project."

"Yeah. Definitely. Not even half of it, though. Misha wants to DIY everything."

"Misha isn't your husband, Y/n," Dr. McCauliffe reminds me and I laugh.

"I think he forgets that sometimes. But there's not a lot of use in arguing with him. He's...well, he's right a lot. Like, most of the time, I mean. So, I always cave to him."

"Do you want to do a big DIY project at this new house?"

"Not at first, I didn't but...I dunno. Might be fun. I've never gotten to do that kind of project and knowing Misha, he's gonna make it fun even if it is hard work."

"Well, as long as you can maintain your work as well as this project. How is that coming along?"

"Really good, actually. We started shooting not too long ago...and I hadn't even considered that this project might be detrimental to Midsummer. I'll have to make sure that Misha knows that Midsummer comes first."

"Well, it seems like you've got things under control."

"Yeah? I was afraid you'd tell me I was...going too fast or…"

"Do you think that? You were telling me that you'd done well with boundaries and keeping things-"

"Well, I have! I mean, Jensen was talking about moving in together already and I shut that down and decided to get a bigger place...my own bigger place."

"Jensen wanted to move in with you?" She writes down something on her notes. "And you said 'no'?"

"I said 'no'," I confirm. "I was really proud of myself, Doc. Nova was proud of me, too, actually. Which was...it was interesting and new. I don’t know that she's ever been proud of me for anything and I know that it's supposed to be the other way, where I'm proud of her and I am, of course but Nova being proud of me setting these boundaries and sticking to them...it gives me hope that she'll be able to do the same in her own life, you know?"

"There's nothing wrong with feeling happy that you made your daughter proud and there's nothing wrong with hoping she's going to make different mistakes than you. She's going to do well in life if you keep making the best choices for the both of you." She sets her clipboard on her desk and smiles. "I'm proud of you, too, by the way. Six years ago, you would have jumped at living with Jensen."

"Six years ago, I did."

We finish out our session with a promise to not go so long without seeing her next time. "Mental health is about the maintenance," she reminds me as she opens her office door and walks me to the reception desk. I agree and set an appointment for six weeks out. I call Misha as I start my car, intending to tell him that Midsummer comes before the house project. I haven't even gotten a 'hello' out of my mouth when he speaks.

"I saw the pictures you sent. I have so many ideas!"

~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #spn rpf #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader

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princessfbi · 3 years

Note

Hi my favourite Buckley Siblings person. I need some serotonin after reading some horrifically hot takes that basically said that Maddie and Buck is not a healthy dynamic and she has no boundaries when it comes to him.

So, I was wondering if you could give your too reasons as to why the Buckley siblings are elite? 💜

Isn't that always the curse of the eldest daughter? To be invalidated in your feelings and your trauma because you're expected to perform to an expectation that can be crippling. There's a joke somewhere along the lines of "are you an overachiever or were you just the eldest daughter?" that seems fitting this morning.

I mean let's talk about Margaret and Philip's history of invalidating their children's feelings for a second.

They forced Maddie to never talk about a brother who died that she remembered and had known for most of her life. Maddie was nine. She would've been a fourth grader! She was a kid who still had to walk in a single file line down the halls. Do you know what the big deal was when I was in fourth grade? I got to have my classes upstairs on the second floor. That was the big monumental life change for me in that grade. It was a big deal.

Maddie was a fourth grader who lost her brother, didn't even have a grasp of the concept of what death meant, was told to pretend Daniel didn't exist, and was aware enough that her whole life had changed.

That's a fourth grader being told never to talk about someone ever again. A fourth grader who is then taken away from her home, her memories, her friends and forced to pretend like nothing was wrong.

There's a reason emotional neglect has such a clear through line to later in life abuse. It's this idea that Margaret and Philip perpetuated with Maddie that there has to be this performance. Nobody understands our suffering and judges us. It both alienates a child and teaches said child that the world will not understand you if things are different. You see that with the way Maddie hides things with Doug, she makes excuses for him, it's different with her and Doug, she judges other victims of domestic abuse when they come into the hospital, and she deflects. All of this she learned from her parents.

Maddie hiding the abuse 🤝 Margaret and Philip hiding Daniel's death/their grief

Maddie making excuses for Doug 🤝 Philip making excuses for Margaret

It's different with her and Doug 🤝 Philip and Margaret crying victim about people judging them for having Buck because obviously that's not the same thing as other people who procreate children to save other children

Maddie judging other victims 🤝 Margaret and Philip judging Maddie for attaching herself onto someone who loves her (questionable but I think in Doug's own way he did)

Maddie deflecting about the abuse 🤝 Margaret and Philip deciding to move away and never talk about Daniel again

You see them do it again and again to Maddie ("You don't know what it's like you're not a mother yet") so it's no wonder Maddie does it to herself. She'd gotten used to it. You see her do it to herself with Buck, Chimney, Sue, Josh, and then for a brief moment when she's struggling with the PPD.

Maddie deflects but she also makes a point to not let Buck do that. That's why it's so meaningful that she came to talk to him after he revealed he was going to therapy because she thought he wouldn't want to talk about it freely with Chimney around. That's why she prods when Buck makes excuses for Abby's behavior towards him. That's why her scene where she calls Buck sad and lonely is so important. That sticks with Buck and instead of getting angry about it, he tries to get help. But then he does the same for her too "Because I always felt like you were sad too."

Meanwhile in regards to Buck, we see Margaret and Philip objectify Buck from before he was even born. I think a lot of people forget that objectifying someone doesn't strictly imply sexually. Being a donor baby already comes in a severe degree of objectification (you can see this as a major argument in regards to the whole concept of donor siblings ie the book Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro for example). Margaret and Philip objectified Buck from conception and when it didn't work, they didn't put the work in to shift that way of viewing Buck. He remained an object to them. He was never a baby, he was a thing. "We live with a reminder staring us in the face." They didn't just invalidate Buck. They didn't let Buck be a person.

And Buck had grown up being objectified his whole life which is why he doesn't even react when people are constantly doing it to him (people on the job, Abby, Bobby and the team to a certain extent.) I think it's interesting the way he reacts when Omar does the same thing when Maddie introduces him.

Maddie: Omar, this is my brother, Evan.

Omar: Oh, yeah, the football star.

Buck is so visibly uncomfortable when he says that it actually hurts my soul which is why that scene where Buck says "I'm going to be something... I just-- I don't know what it is yet" is so important. Because Maddie has spent her entire life being invalidated and she goes out of her way to make sure that doesn't happen with Buck. She validates Buck. She reminds him that he's a person. That he is someone.

So, when Maddie gives Buck the keys and the money to go away, she's not just giving him an escape. She's giving him permission to go be someone.

What I think people sometimes forget is that the trauma Buck experienced (the neglect which in my personal opinion, is a form of abuse though I know the technicalities are a gray point) was also what Maddie experienced. The difference is that Maddie got to be a person. She got to be their daughter. Their choice. Wanted. Buck wasn't given that consideration.

So, she did it. Maddie changed the course of trajectory for Buck.

And she started that when she was nine years old. A fourth grader decided that she was going to want this unwanted baby.

Maddie wasn't fighting her parents in Buck Begins about being able to talk to Daniel. She wasn't even fighting because they were invalidating her feelings again! She was fighting them because they were back in their lives and treating Buck like he wasn't a person again. She was fighting them because they came into town and gave a lackluster attempt at trying check and make sure Buck was fine before they dismissed him.

And Maddie wasn't going to let them do that again.

I mean just think about the "Don't be stupid, Evan"/"Don't talk to him like that" scene. It's so understated how significant those two lines are. It speaks volumes of the way Margaret in particular has diminished Buck's capacity as a human being and how she'd done it enough times that Maddie immediately jumps to his defense.

And it's not just Maddie who does it either. Because Buck knows Maddie deflects. He's seen her do it with his own two eyes (I just don't think he realized how much she deflects from him because again he thought they were on the same page). "C'mon you don't have to pretend with me. I know things aren't okay with, Doug." So Buck jumps in between Maddie and anyone who is a "danger" to her.

He does it with Margaret: "She's going to nursing school. You should congratulate her."

He does it with Doug: "Standing in between you and anyone who thinks they can hurt you is exactly where I want to be standing."

He does it with Gloria: "Want me to talk to her?"

And he does it again in the big build up at the infamous dinner scene with his parents. Buck has seen Maddie just take it, so he puts himself in the middle. "It was a compliment, Evan!"/"Oh, was it?"

"A united front."

"You and me in the world."

"Us vs them. That's what we always said."

I agree that I don't think it was Maddie's place to tell Buck's parents about his therapy (though, I know why she did it). But Buck is such a firm believer in the "People make mistakes. Doesn't mean you give up on them." and that came from Maddie and grew from his experience with Bobby, Hen, Chimney, Eddie, and Athena.

Buck and Maddie are never going to give up on each other. If they had, Maddie wouldn't have given him an escape. Buck would've stopped trying to contact her. Buck and Maddie show such a capacity of love and forgiveness towards one another it's maddening because they so easily could've not.

It's not Buck tolerating when Maddie "hurts" or "upsets" him. It's Buck loving Maddie so completely that he loves her in spite of her flaws. The same way she has loved him in spite of his failures.

I think that's really the saddest part about the people who don't quite understand the Buckley siblings relationship. It's people who don't get or haven't gotten to experience the profound love that comes from being forgiven for something. Forgiven completely and not just stated. I think to be forgiven, really forgiven, is maybe one of the greatest gifts a person can give you. Because to be forgiven is to be seen. It's be seen for all your faults and still accepted. Whether a person deserves forgiveness or not is really just a moot point if you think about it. Because to make the choice to forgive someone is a liberation of yourself by saying "I am not going to hold this baggage for you anymore." It's all you can control at the end of the day. How people respond when you say that is when you really get to see the true value you hold to a person. Like my sibling and I grew up hating each other. HATING each other. It wasn't until we were older that we started to connect. But I have never once, nor have they, questioned whether or not we would go to the mat swinging for each other. And yeah we have a lot of baggage we're still holding onto but one by one we're letting things go and we are still around for one another.

That's why I think it's fascinating Buck's capability for forgiveness and it stems from Maddie because Margaret and Philip I don't think have ever forgiven Buck. They may not have blamed him but they never forgave him either.

François Duc De La Rochefoucauld has a really amazing quote about forgiveness.

"One forgives to the degree that one loves."

Buck's capacity to love and forgive is because Maddie loved him so completely. She saw him as a person. She treated him as a person. She forgave him for being a person and she loved him for being a person.

They survive major childhood trauma together. It has created this codependency that is shifting for the better because Buck and Maddie are getting better. They're surrounded by people who love them the way Margaret and Philip should have loved them. They are surrounded by people who validate them the way Margaret and Philip should have validated them. They are surrounded by people who see them for who they are the way Margaret and Philip should've seen them.

"Cause it's hard to feel betrayed by someone you didn't really think you could count on anyway... and easy to lash out one the person that you know is always gonna forgive you."

So that's my top reason why they're elite. Buck and Maddie forgive one another the same way they love one another. Completely and entirely with their whole hearts.

#evan ‘buck’ buckley #Maddie buckley #evan Buckley #chimney han #Bobby mash #Eddie diaz #hen Wilson #Athena grant #buckley siblings #the Buckley siblings #buck can forgive his parents I shall never #never I say #madney #tw domestic abuse #ask #answered #maddieandchimney

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2n2n · 2 years

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Hi, I love reading your in-depth analyses! I'm also curious: What do you think the role of the mermaid's curse will play, when considering all the references to 'Little Mermaid'? There's the dagger Shijima gave Nene in to kill Hanako to escape the fake world (like the tale). The dagger is in another art where Nene is a mermaid and Hanako the prince. Little Mermaid and JSHK have similar concepts too: wishes, soul-bonding, curses, sacrifice, humans and non-humans going to each others' worlds, etc.

awe so kind. Somehow I keep feeling flustered by it being called analysis. Even though there's no other word. Feels generous for my whinging.

I'll be straight with you: I have little to no idea. It's all shots in the dark. The 'little mermaid' imagery and stuff doesn't… yet…. really thread with anything, and tends to be… aesthetic? Picture Perfect is an arc you could spend a hundreds years looking at with a microscope (AND I DOOOO) though, and it does feature a stabbing. In the story, stabbing the prince is the only way the Mermaid can live, as his life will be exchanged for hers. It has all of that toukan koukan going for it. The little Mermaid is also crucially about doing something to attain an immortal soul (a goal which she is implied to achieve). You're right that piecemeal, there's a lot of, things, overlapping. The hubris of wishes.

As far as the little Mermaid itself goes, while many ?? assert she turns into foam ?? she actually turns into an air-goddess-being (???) and must serve 300 years in a service performing good deeds, and will then earn her immortal soul.

Her desire to be human is moreso a desire to not simply wither to nothing when she dies, as only humans souls can ascend and thrive past their life.......... it's through being loved by a human, that that humans soul will then pass into you, and be shared with you.

*wind blowing* I have no idea what that means. In the context of JSHK. Or Nene. *staring out a window*

Humans in general impart meaning to kaii, in JSHK, and the power dynamic is one where kaii must bow to human's impressions of them, or they will cease to exist. Though to be a kaii, you need more than any one human. It's simply promised love that the mermaid needs to acquire a soul.

The Prince in the tale is kind of a jackass who spends many years alongside the Mermaid, sharing every moment with her, but regards her as like a child, 'cuz she can't talk (wow). Their bond is platonic, for him. He's in love with a girl who helped save his life, but he doesn't know the mermaid herself rescued him….. he cannot recognize her. Reading it, it's just so hard to relate any of it to Nene. I'd have an easier time trying to relate it to Tsukasa, but that's not anything, it's a stretch from any angle.

I have a…. vague little thought at times, that the Well God is actually a river itself, or the God of a river the village/town was originally built around…….? Water is afterall spiritual in this manga, there may be something to the choice for boundaries to be waterways; and sacrifices in the village were cast off a tall cliff into water, and the water had a current which would carry them into the caverns below the house, and obviously this all connects to the well (meaning freshwater). Why else build a village someplace and be stuck there? It could be a river which runs underground, which the Earth occasionally opens up into, hence the great pit. It's after all not the drop or gate which triggers Sumire's shrine to reset, it is the body plinking into the water. Shintoism is keen to mythologize nature as Gods this way, and as far as I can tell there's as much Shinto as Buddhism in this manga's mythos, so….

It would satisfy me symbolically if Tsukasa-- if he's now merged with the God-- were a river/God and Nene were a fish….. that sort of themeing could open up a lot of future scenes or imagery to do with water. If everything ties into shores, near and far and the water between, why not the God capable of dismantling it all be one of water itself……. and why not a fish to compliment all of this, to journey through it all…. idk…………………

I'm never too sure why Hanako used a tertiary service to bind Nene to him. What did Tsukasa use, with Sakura? Did he need to use an outside force? Can they not perform a binding another way, must a tool be used? Isn't having a Kannagi just a, thing, for kaii, can they not enforce that bond through their own agreements? The Minamoto man who killed the Oni clan in the mountains uses his own blood to bind Hakubo (???) to his family's service. I have no idea how symbolic or literal that was. It's hard for me to imagine Tsukasa had Sakura eat a cricket leg or something and now she's cricket cursed. Tsukasa always seems completely capable of authentic magic while Hanako is always relying on tools (outside of his purifying knife?), and rather than whisking people away to timeless psychic spaces (suchas he does to Shijima) Hanako simply like, Does Actions And Makes Choices Which Cause Effects.

Amane does have kanji for "normal" so somehow between Nene and Tsukasa being possibly enchanted/mystical/cursed, it's easiest to think of Amane/Hanako as somebody caught between enchanted beings, DESPITE everything to the contrary. The Prince in the story is also, normal, and it's all this hoodoo going on around him. It's likely Nene who is responsible for originally altering Amane's timeline, so, like…………………….. …………………….. ………………………………………… somehow despite her being 'the human' I think of Amane often as 'the normal guy here'. and so .................................................................................................... no. I have no conclusion. I have only vagues.

Whats more rivers and oceans are different [duck quack] so I. I don't know how any of it connects. I can only think about water in generalities. I can only connect rivers as a concept to any of this. Nene is constantly enshrouded in ocean imagery specifically, seashells, seastars, etc. Maybe it just relates to her being some sort of miko or otherwise mystical girl and, the far shore uses ocean imagery, so, it's all her symbology, and not Tsukasa's at all, [rubs temples] but the well is a well and the caverns and running river…………………………………………..

nothing comes together.

I'll think about it forever, though.

If I have a brain blast, I'll post about it.

#avvy's JSHK

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mybg3notebook · 3 years

Text

Gale Summarised Analysis

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in May 2021.

The majority of sources used for this article are in the game itself (this includes my Gale-solo playthroughs as well as a combination of the videos by munmomuu and selphie1999), and the few dev’s notes provided by pjenn. Gale as origin is not taken into account since it’s not finished and has little to none Gale-related content. There will be little datamining content as well since pjenn said the game contained almost no gale-related notes (only in the Weave and in the Revelation scene).

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in (post)

The number between brackets [] represents the topic-block related to (this post), which gathers as much evidence as I could get.

We can infer about Gale by analysing what he approves and disapproves of. Sometimes, we can even lightly infer some information from his neutral reactions, but let’s be honest: this way of analysing a char is pretty poor since it leaves everything to speculation. Neutral reactions can only be analysed, in very rare instances, by contrasting the same situation in other contexts, and seeing what other options Gale approves or disapproves of. With these considerations in mind, we can proceed to describe this character.

Disclaimer: this is a meta with my personal interpretation of the character, sticking as much as possible to the facts and leaving little to “desires” or “projections” of what I want him to be. If I do so, I will state it explicitly in the text for the sake of analysis honesty. I want to be clear about what is canon (facts shown in bg3 EA), from what’s personal interpretation with little proof.

Understanding Gale (integrated text)

We are none of us monsters. We are merely hatcheries for monstrous things. So we fight them

---Gale

Collecting most of the information provided in-game, we know he has a cat, a Library, and writes poetry sometimes. One of the first things that Gale will reveal is that he is a private person. He easily and clearly sets boundaries from the first moment, showing Tav where they stand. The second aspect he makes us aware of is his pragmatic thinking and his preference for diplomatic approaches. A third aspect that stands out on its own: he is a very verbose person, maybe as a result of his academia background in combination with his poetry hobby. He also has a bad posture when talking, but I’m not sure if this is intentional or a bug.

We can assure that Gale certainly is a man of the city [13], and may have a decent social status. It's impossible to say for sure if it's noble or rich or both, or it is just a natural consequence of being a wizard scholar: he is frustrated by the harshness of the camping life, he misses the civilisation of the city which offers well cooked meals, soft beds, and scented baths. Not by chance he is the only companion in the group who would approve of giving Oskar 200 gold to fight “the discomforts of the road” [13]. However, he adapts. Despite the lack of luxuries, he managed to survive in the wilderness.

Gale and his link with magic is unquestionable. Magic is life for Gale, metaphorically and literally speaking since it's magic what allows him to stay alive despite the "orb" in his chest. If we talk about Magic, we have to talk about Mystra and the Weave. The Weave is not only the embodiment of Mystra, it's an extension of Mystra herself. It extends across many planes of existence and is in almost all parts of Faerûn. By dragging power from it, Magic can be performed.

Mystra, for lore reasons and conjectures that I will discuss in the post "Mystra and her Chosen ones", turned teenager/young adult Gale into one of her Chosen, making their relationship more intimate and granting Gale a deeper access to the Weave. This put Gale into the category of an archwizard. It's clear that Gale was and still is a devotee of Mystra, which could give us a hint of his alignment since she is a neutral good goddess and she expects for her Chosen to align around it.

Gale likes confidence, in others and in himself. He is confident in his looks (he has described himself as a “handsome devil” and answered during the romance/Revelation scene that he knew he was beautiful under the light as well as Tav). But beyond these two lines, qualifying him as a narcissist seems extreme. He is surely very confident about his knowledge, and we see he is not just mere words: his Mind Flayer knowledge is at the the same level of what githyankis know. If we compare how Astarion/Tav struggled with the book of Thay, and then we see how Gale manages it (sadly the scene is not complete yet in EA, and there is almost no datamining info of Gale), we can conclude once more that his knowledge and power of the mind are real (he is, so far, the main companion who allows us to explore the lore of the game in a deeper way during his conversations). We also know it's a bit more complicated to intrude into his mind using the tadpole because he has knowledge and mental tools to protect himself (check the post about the Tadpole inside Gale). He is certainly a very verbose and confident scholar, who knows his limits, and in occasions he seems to dabble into an ego-teasing play as an attempt of levity, displaying his “insufferable side”, as he has described himself (his self-awareness of these traits is remarkable, and it is the reason why I avoid qualifying him as arrogant. Arrogant chars are hardly self-aware of their own bad manners or insufferable traits). But we can see it's usually done as a joke or, with an evil Tav, as an aggressive reaction. For a deep analysis of this aspect, check the post about "Gale Hypotheses- Part 2", section: "Narcissism".

Based on his approvals and disapprovals, we can see that Gale has a strong preference in avoiding fights, violence, and bloodshed [1]. He will always prefer diplomatic and persuasive approaches [2]. Reasoning is his best weapon, but if the individual we are dealing with can hardly be persuaded, he would approve of a deception or an intimidation as long blood is not spilt. Here is where we see his pragmatism in action, all the time. His primary goal at every moment is to avoid bloodshed. His philosophy could be summed up in the line “the means [as long as they don’t kill gratuitously] hardly matter if the end is worthy”. And for Gale, nothing is more worthy than life [3]. This doesn't cover only the life of innocents he cares about, it includes the life of the most dubious characters as well, such as Rugan or Crusher. Gratuitous death is meaningless for him. During the scene of Nettie we can have a glimpse of his philosophy towards life: he viscerally hates treating life as if it were nothing:

Gale: How dare she snuff out life with as much thought as snuffing out a bloody candle? […] It's not right to feel the cold breath of death in your neck, then move on as if it was nothing but a soothing breeze. One respects life by fighting for it, and one respects death by fearing it.

Gale: One should never be afraid to live life to the fullest.

Probably the limited amount of life he has due to the "orb" increased his sense of respect for life and its celebration. I personally understand Gale as a character who embodies the perspectives of a seriously ill person, knowing that their life may be short, but they will try to make the best out of it.

He doesn't only respect life per se, he also cares about its dignity. This can be seen in his explicit rejection to undead existences such as Connor (he explains that it would be merciful to put an end to his undead nightmare), or in his disapprovals of humiliation and torture [9]

We could suspect that this emphasis in protecting any life comes from the fact that only people who are alive can (sometimes) be forgiven or/and change. This is not explicit, but since he is a character who talks about being better and wiser than his previous self, about acknowledging mistakes, about forgiveness, this interpretation seems reasonable.

These concepts of kindness and compassion combined with “the mistakes of the youth” are repetitive in his interactions and approvals [5,12]. Of course, they echo in his soul since they are reflections and desires of his own experience. This pattern covers forgiving children in particular [5], and disapproving hard judgements [16], especially on matters whose story is not fully understood by Tav. This means he doesn't like quick judgements when he doesn't know the whole story first. This scenario can be easily seen during Karlach's quest, he reserves his judgment until knowing Karlach's side: There are always two sides to each story.

Gale: I have to say I don't know if agreeing to this hunt was such a wise idea. Who's to say who's the real villain in this tale of devils and masquerades? [...]When we track Karlach down, let's chat before we chop.

Similar concept appears during his Revelation scene, when he encourages and keeps asking Tav to listen to him first before judging. This is also the reason why in his Loss scene he would disapprove if Tav quickly assumes that his loss of Mystra was due to arrogance. Tav judged him without knowing the whole story. However, once Tav knows the whole story, Gale will accept any judgement from them without approval penalties during the Revelation scene.

He approves all actions that imply helping others in hard times and disapproves of them if they were done out of greed [4]. He is an animal lover [6,7]. Being kind to animals and treating them good will increase his approval, while animal cruelty will earn his disapproval. Same goes for humanoids: any display of gratuitous violence that could have been prevented with a trick or a diplomatic approach, any humiliation forced upon others, any torture or situation of slavery, is disapproved [8, 9, 11].

In particular, Gale seems to advocate the philosophy of “give others their own medicine”[18] or in other words: poetic justice. We can see this during the Myconid colony; he approves of helping the Myconid to avenge the young killed by the Duergar, adding the comment: “Wicked killers deserve wicked ends”. He is implying to give them a similar, wicked medicine to the Duergars. Another less deadly situation of this kind is shown during the foot situation with Crusher: Gale is the one suggesting “pungent poetic justice” and telling Tav that they should force Crusher to kiss their feet.

The most iconic scene, however, is during Nettie's, if Tav lies during her interrogation. As a hot-headed reaction, Gale states that he would have poisoned Nettie if this situation would have happened to him. Although, after calming down, he approves of and confirms Tav's actions [if Tav managed to persuade Nettie to give them the antidote]

Gale: A taste of her own medicine is what she deserves! […] But you handled it, and you handled it well.

In this scene we also see a pattern: Gale is shown as a fallible human; his most visceral reaction during the first moment is anger and indignation, giving us a hint that he is not so rational when it comes to emotional states. An extremely obvious, human concept.

The scene of Nettie trying to kill a potential menace (the victim of a MF) reverberated in his consciousness, projecting immediately a fact in his mind: if he ever dares to reveal his "orb" problem, and anyone knows what a danger he represents—no matter how stable it looks—people will want to remove the menace by killing him.

This is the reason behind his words “It's just that, had it been me... had it been...” Gale knows that this simplistic and common thinking in removing what's dangerous would end up turning into a more destructive tragedy in his case than in any infected victim of the tadpoles. So this combination makes us see, for the first time, an emotional Gale. After some seconds, he cools down and returns to his more rational, diplomatic, and moderate self. What we can read here is that Gale would be very prone to rush decisions or to make mistakes under emotional circumstances. We will learn later that the other mistake he made under emotional stress ended up with the "orb" stuck in his chest. A third mistake was done during the party, once more under the emotional stress of a potential abandonment by Tav due to the true nature of the orb.

Everything related to the “orb”—which is his most traumatic experience—naturally makes him more emotional and prone to mistakes. To see how truly traumatic the "orb" is in his life we can notice the following patterns during the meeting scene: he speaks about the tadpole in a relaxed, rational way, despite the traumatising experience. He first asks for an archwizard instead of for a cleric, because his priority is the orb. Gale's main fear is not the tadpole, but the orb. If we remember his words after the consumption of the artefacts, we realise he lives in a permanent state of anxiety and raw fear, and probably pain too, given his facial gesticulation when anything interacts with the "orb" (whether artefacts or Tav's hand). His banter with Shadowheart reinforces the concept that he always has a knot in the stomach. When he accepts the deal with Raphael, it seems to be related to the orb, not to the tadpole. The effect of the "orb" has ceased, but the tadpole is still in Gale's head since we still need to roll against a high DC and not only against a 1DC during this scene, so we can assume he still has the tadpole despite Raphael's deal. See the post about "The Tadpole" in Gale for more details.

Gale is a character that represents human experiences deeply related to growing up: mistakes done in the past, and the acceptance of not being forgiven despite the desire of wanting to. This can be easily seen during the conversation of the second tadpole dream, where Gale's mood is foul and we learn that his deepest desire is for Mystra to forgive him, but he also knows it's impossible for that to happen. He detects the lie in this dream because he has accepted that Mystra will never forgive him. Gale is the story of mistakes done during youth with grave consequences, of acknowledging them and trying to make them right, of surviving those mistakes, and depending on the interpretation, he is also the story of an ill dying man, with a gentle vision and deep care for life.

The great majority of his approvals are based on actions that show kindness and compassion, both reiterative concepts that are so important in his character that they come from his lips when we see the goblin party:

Gale: The shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [Only after a tough DC of 15]

In combination with: Gale: I don't know myself anymore. All this... It's not who I am. Around you, I'm not who I want to be. I should leave.

These lines show how, in a sudden change to an evil path, Gale would start doubting his own morality, explaining that the cause of it is the "orb" itself, corrupting the most core aspects of his personality. This corruption may or may not be lore-related. It's not completely clear what Gale's "orb" truly is. For more details, check the post of the "Orb".

His constant critical thinking comes from his advocacy to non-conventionality [15]: a true scholar will always explore all the options and hypotheses before reaching a conclusion. Therefore, Gale would approve of any non-conventional way to fix a problem [15] as long as it doesn't potentially cause harm or bloodshed [1,2,3,8,9]. Due to his own background, Gale will always advise to be very careful of the consequences of one’s actions. This can be easily seen when, after encountering the caged goblin Sazza, Gale would advocate to explore the possibility of reaching Gut Priestess to cure the tadpole. However, when Tav helps Sazza to escape, Gale will comment briefly against this action.

Gale: I know I said it's not inconceivable a goblin priestess could help us. And yet... was it really wise to set another goblin free so she can arrange introductions? […] consider the consequences. What if she leads her entire tribe to the grove? Tav: I don't care, I owe this grove no allegiance. Gale: No allegiance, no. Though we don't need to sign its death warrant

Once more we see that Gale is up to using any (unharming) means to get a goal, but not at any cost. He has a clear line he doesn't like to cross: life [3]. Avoiding putting other people's lives in danger is very important for him. We see this concept over and over in most scenes.

He doesn't likerushed decisions, and in that same train of thoughts, he will disapprove any use of unknown magic or tricks when nobody in the group can truly understand how they work [17], for example the tadpoles or Raphael's deal (he is against accepting it quickly, but he will approve of having a more cautious attitude and carefully thinking about it).

Since the moment we meet him, we can infer he is obsessed with the artefacts. It's obviously understandable: he doesn't want to die, but also, he doesn't want to kill all those that will be caught in the eruption of the orb. For this reason he will insist on the loot in the Temple Ruins despite knowing that grave robbery is not correct.

Gale: Bad form, isn't it? Grave robbing? […] Let's have a look at the loot. It isn't for your pockets only.

He keeps pondering life over death: although he respects the dead, he will always value more the living creatures in the present. This is also what pushes Gale to suggest Tav to open Rugan's chest. Stealing from the evil Zhentarins is not something that will weigh on his consciousness too much. Besides, he knows it belongs to a wizard: meaning that the chance for it to contain a powerful artefact is really high. Similar suggestions will be said about the Idol of Silvanus, but talking with him in the camp will show us that he won't approve of taking it, only as a last resort. He keeps pondering the living over a sacred piece of stone, since he knows the druids won't take the stealing very peacefully. Once more we see Gale's respect and care for life, trying to minimise damage as much as the circumstances allow him.

Gale is also a survivalist. He doesn't want to die, he loves celebrating life in its more mundane and small details. He is an emotional character for a wizard, a bit strange since they are usually portrayed as more rational and cold, losing their lives among dusty books. However, Gale has shown in many scenes that he prefers to survive without killing, but if he has to, he will do it, dealing with the weight of it in his consciousness because killing unprovoked affects him (scene in the camp after killing the druids, or the goblin party scene).

His moral in preventing gratuitous death sometimes will conflict with his own survival, especially if he is by an evil Tav's side. He couldn't accept bloodshed when other peaceful options were available and possible to reach. This is clearly shown during the goblin party, where Gale's consciousness suffers and feels the corruption of the "orb" killing the kindness and the compassion inside him. He accepts that wanting to live is a powerful drive, but he doesn't support this massacre, questioning if all that blood was necessary. A Tav killing the tieflings seems to lose the possibility of pursuing Gale romantically, at least in EA so far. For Gale, survival is important, but the means to do it (when they can cause death) matter too. Life is worth preserving.

The usual archetype of survivalist tends to be an individualist one who would survive at any cost without remorse because that's the “law of the jungle”, the strongest must survive. However, Gale seems to embody a different concept of survivalist that it's hard to put in words: a sort of communal survivalist, trying to survive in coexistence with his community: he wants his survival to imprint the least harm possible (even though sometimes it would not be possible), trying to help those around him as long as his condition allows it; for example, despite wanting Gut's potential cure for the tadpole, he would disagree in helping Sazza escape because she will lead the goblins to the Grove, no matter the fact that doing this will grant them their introduction to the priestess.

His list of approval shows that his sense of survival is always pondered with the consequences that it can cause on others (check the post with the "Extensive list of Gale's approvals"). The whole concept of the "orb" has this motivation as well: he wants to live and survive, but he also can't give up because his body would kill many, so he needs to do as much as his moral allows him to keep it in check. If he cannot do it any longer, he promises to minimise the disaster as much as possible by erupting in the deep Underdark or in a desolated corner of Faerûn (and considering his ridiculous list of approvals and disapprovals, we know he is honest in not wanting to kill gratuitously). Gale acknowledges his own mistakes, trying—to the best of his ability—to deal with them without catching others in them. Although all his speeches keep emphasising that he is a mere human, and plans may fail.

At some point, if he wants to survive “not at any cost”, he will be forced to ask Tav for help during the scene of the stew (available only for medium approval or higher). As a gesture of honesty, Gale will set a boundary before making this request, acknowledging its unfairness but giving Tav the decision to proceed or not. He is not denying to explain the details later, but at the moment he can't speak the “why” of his condition no matter how curious Tav is. Tav will decide whether they can keep their curiosity on the matter.

We will understand later that this impediment comes as a precaution as well as consequence of his personal trauma with Mystra and the "orb" (See post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust"). So, he is very clear about setting the conditions in which this conversation will happen from the beginning. The easiest way for Gale to avoid this whole situation would have been by simply lying, but he opted for an honest approach with clear out-loud reservations, knowing he was asking for more trust than he was allowed to, but the intention behind is more than important. There is a clear, huge contextual detail that we can't miss: this scene doesn't happen because of Gale's whims, he is forced to ask for help since his condition “is not a patient one” and will endanger everyone if not kept at bay.

This detail where Gale explicitly asks for an exchange of trust is not present if Gale's approval is neutral or lower. In this case, Gale would not care about giving a context to his strange request: he doesn't trust Tav and he doesn't expect to be trusted either, he only wants the artefacts to keep his condition in check for his sake and the sake of others. We can understand this change of attitude depending on the approval as he doesn't want to give any extra explanation to someone he is not interested in building a relationship with. For more details, check the post about "Gale: Manipulation, Lies, and Trust".

I personally support the idea that nobody in canon Faerûn is free of racial prejudices since Forgotten Realms lore has been created based strongly on fantasy racism. I've read that WotC wants to move forward and improve this aspect in 5e, but so far what they allowed Larian to do with the Tieflings in BG3 seems to show the contrary. So, since apparently we are going to face fantasy racism anyways, I will try to analyse racial prejudices from all chars. When it comes to Gale, it's a bit far-stretched to point out unjustified racial biases. He has a vague comment about Rashemi that some people may consider a faerunian saying. Personally, I think that line is a bias forced into him to have a particular dynamic with Minsc (the Rashemi “silly” companion -we all can see where Larian seems to go with this). Gale clearly sees tieflings, gnomes, and even goblins as people, and has a cautious attitude towards some githyanki (at least that's what we can infer with Lae'zel when we find her in the cage), but given the githyanki lore it's pretty reasonable to see them as dangerous creature that could kill people on the spot. So far, he seems to have no racial preference either [10].

As it was said before, he prefers to avoid killing people, but that doesn't mean he won't do it if his life depends on it. He will prefer persuasive and defusing approaches, but if he needs to kill to defend innocents or his own life, he won't hesitate. So therefore, stories about characters making mistakes or having violent excess in an effort to protect themselves or what they hold dear will be understood by him but hardly approved [19]. He tends more to approve a call out of that excess than approving an excuse for it.

Gale has deep abandonment issues that can be easily seen when he defends Astarion from being handed over to Gandrel. We need to put this in context before going on: for Gale, Astarion represents a danger as a vampire who attacked one of them during their sleep. By the display of meta-knowledge, we know with certainty that their approvals and disapprovals are mostly opposite: What one approves, the other will disapprove and vice versa. Getting rid of Astarion should be something that Gale would approve, however, he doesn't. If we explore his comments we will realise that what Gale disapproves from this situation is Tav's abandonment. After Mystra's abandonment, he knows very well that “Loyalty is such a very rare commodity”, and the few situations in EA in which Tav can display abandonment, resound strongly in Gale.

Gale is a scholar with a strong balanced rational side. But unlike the trope, he also embraces an emotional side that, so far the info we received in EA, it's the side that makes him prone to mistakes.

As an amateur poet, Gale loves words. We can obviously notice this in his verbose attitude, but also in the way he carefully uses words. One of his characteristic words is “spectacle”. He has also shown a reiterative—although not always—uneasy use of the word “fun”. Using “fun” as a way to describe the night spent with Gale gives him a slight uneasiness. “That’s a word for it.” He disapproves of using the word “Fun” after the Mayrina/Connor situation, in which scene Gale alludes that “your new company may be a proof of how depraved and twisted you are to see that tragedy as “fun”. Personally I think this is a direct allusion to Astarion, who considers Mayrina's situation as “entertainment”, in the same way he considered as “fun” the show of Arabella's death (two of several instances where he used that word). Gale also doesn’t use the word sex during EA, instead he uses romantic ones such as love-making, intimacy, art of the night/body. In the most technical case: coitus (used only when he is talking about “goblinoid intimacy” in the expression “post-coital snack”). These details are showing not only his poet/romantic side, but also his interpretation of sex from his perspective: sex can only be possible through a connection. We know he doesn’t engage in casual sex with Lae’zel if he is not romanced, and his romance can only potentially start if Tav shares that deep connection with him through the Weave.

Another detail related to words is that Gale has always used an infection/disease-related vocabulary to explain the “orb” stuck in his chest: infested, taint, shadow spreading

[…] I failed to control [this chaotic magic]. Instead it infested me. […] This Netherese taint... this orb, for lack of a better word [..] […] the shadow within is spreading like poison, corrupting kindness and compassion. [...]

Gale apparently has a particular way to sense magic. I have no way to check this in-game, but it seems very strange how he immediately identifies magical artifacts without casting Detect Magic. There are some extra scenes as well where he says to taste or smell the magic in some objects. Even his encounter with Shadowheart, besides being considered a flirt, could be also interpreted as him detecting the magic that we saw later in her hand or maybe the dark magic that blocks her memories, since Gale pointed out about a curtain covering her soul: “if the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirror” (a very ominous flirting if it’s only a flirt)

This makes me suspect that, if the "orb" is not giving him this skill, it may be a consequence of having been Chosen of Mystra (for more details read the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones"). If this is the case, he may have hindered remains of theirs powers when it comes to detect magic at will.

Gale has a perception of magic with all the senses: he sniffs and tastes magic. During the mirror scene you have an option related to [Arcana] tag where he “Sniff the mirror, trying to understand the nature of its magic”. A wizard Tav will just “Inspect the mirror”. He also said that he could “taste” the magic in the necromancy book and in the runes of teleportation.

What we know of his family is little: when he was a kid there was a housekeeper in his life (mentioned only once during the scene of the harpies) and his mother that seemed to have personally raised and cared for him (mentioned twice: in the ruin temple scene, and in his banter with Wyll)

Tav: Why care about decorum in a long-abandoned tomb? Gale: Because my mother raised a gentleman. Then again, to be alive is to be curious.

Wyll: Between the orb and the bug you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale: What can I say. Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

This post was written in May 2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

#bg3 meta #gale #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #bg3 early access #bg3

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nocturnememory · 3 years

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this softness (a knife, a knife, a knife)

I was with you, he says, with his fingers ghosting along her scar. Right here, always.

She’s curled up against his side, Tales of Beetle the Bard, sits splayed open on the other half of the bed, but there’s no story she likes hearing more than the one he’ll tell her and only her, in the low light of her bedroom, half-asleep and pressed up as close as she can get to him.

Prompt: This is two prompts mixed into one, hopefully that works out for both prompters... the first was “What if Voldemort won the first war but harrie still ended as a hocrux?! Their life and story then. Would he watch over her as she is raised? Maybe care for her more or less?“ and the second, “How do you think Voldemort would raise Harrie? If he took her or kidnapped her from her parents instead of trying to kill her.”

This doesn’t quite match up with both exactly, but it merges the two together because I think they were too similar to not meld together into one prompt.

hopefully the two prompters enjoy it anyway!

Warnings: Underage, age-gap, Voldemort raises Harrie, Minister of Magic Voldemort, morally grey!Harrie. Pureblood rhetoric/prejudice. Pureblood culture/beliefs.

This is definitely pretty dark and like, very very morally complicated. Don’t be fooled by the fluff in the first part. If you’re at all sensitive to underage/age-gap stories, this one is definitely not for you. While I’ve done my best to keep it from being squicky with grooming, there’s definitely still going to be threads of this story that cross like, a lot of boundaries.

this softness (a knife, a knife, a knife) 1/3

Outside of her cupboard, there’s a knock on the front door of Privet Drive.

In the kitchen, a chair scrapes back, her uncle grumbles and mutters about dinner time and no good nuisances. His footsteps are heavy and thundering as he passes by her cupboard, blocking the striped, reaching light from the slats for a moment as he heads to the front door.

His footsteps fade as he turns the lock and yanks the door open, his voice sharp and hard. “Do you know what time it is? What kind of f—”

There’s a thump and a sliding sound, like something heavy being pushed across the floor. Like when Aunt Petunia has Harrie vacuum the front room and she has to push and push the big couch back to get at the dust underneath.

The light to her cupboard gets blocked again, that sliding noise louder and louder like whatever is being pushed is sliding right past her cupboard door along the strip of carpet in the hallway.

Beneath that noise, just beneath it, something gurgles and gasps.

And then, there’s a scream. A thump, more thumps, something breaks and shatters and underneath it all, that choking, gasping gurgling sound.

Harrie huddles into the corner of her cupboard with her knees to her chest and her arms shaking, clutching at her little tin soldier in her sweaty palm.

No one ever looks in her cupboard, she tells herself, they won’t find her in here. She’s safe in her cupboard, she’s always been safe in her cupboard.

It gets louder, the thumping and gurgling and screams outside of her cupboard and Harrie tucks her head into her knees, squeezing her eyes shut—

Until—

It goes quiet.

Her ears strain and she pulls in a breath and holds it, trying to hear what’s going on in the kitchen.

There’s a drip, drip, drip… and Harrie swallows, turning her head towards her cupboard door, watching the light stripping through the slats, her heart thundering in her ears as she holds her breath just a little bit longer.

Drip, drip, drip.

Like spilled milk over the edge of the kitchen table, she thinks, or juice from one of Dudley’s tantrums that Harrie always has to clean up, girl.

Drip, drip, drip.

Shaking, she hears footsteps, a pair of shoes over the hard kitchen floor turning into softer steps on the carpet in the hall. Steady and slow, coming towards her; they sound too heavy to be Aunt Petunia’s, but much too light to be Uncle Vernon’s.

A stranger, she thinks. It’s a stranger in the house, isn’t it?

She huddles smaller, hugging her knees tighter as the footsteps stop in front of her cupboard; it blocks some of the light, the pair of legs just outside of the door.

Her heart pounds, wild and unsteady and so loud in her ears it sounds like Dudley jumping on the stairs above her head. Thump thump thump.

The latch slides and drags back in a metallic scrape.

She goes cold at the same time something hot burns through her stomach and— and she feels— she feels—

So angry. So angry, her palm’s slippery and hot and it was over too quick, too quick, should have taken longer. Drawn it out. It’s clawing at her insides and— and the knob turns and the feeling cuts off, sharp and sudden enough to make her hitch a little breath.

The door pulls back.

A man crouches down slowly, he’s tall and big and fills the little, angled doorway of her cupboard up until there’s barely any space left.

He holds his hand out, it’s red and shiny, even in shadows of her cupboard.

“Hullo, Harrie,” the man says with a careful, slow smile that makes her feel…makes her feel…

It makes her slide forward, unfolding from her tucked-up, tight huddle in the corner, makes her slip her hand into his sticky one so he can pull her out towards him until she can tuck her head into his neck and wrap her arms around his shoulders and cling onto him so tight she thinks it has to hurt him.

But his fingers are long and warm as they push into her hair to cup the back of her head as his arms wrap around her like they’re swallowing her up in the size of them; his voice is low and warm and she can feel it inside of her chest, her belly, the clench of her knees digging into his ribs, trembling to cling on tighter and tighter and tighter.

His head turns into her shoulder, his chest shifts against hers as he breathes out, long and slow and warm over her skin, his arms tightening just a little bit more around her.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.”

She’s so much smaller than he expects.

He doesn’t burn the house down, no matter the desire to wipe the filth of that family off the face of the Earth like God’s hand coming down with a vengeful flood.

No, no. That’s almost kind, isn’t it? Fire purifies in so many ways, and they deserve to die like the bugs they are. A smear of gore on glass. Crushed beneath his palm.

He seals the house and leaves them to rot.

The girl, his girl, breathes gently against his neck, her cheek soft and warm, her arms lax over his shoulders. She hasn’t spoken yet, but she knows him.

She knew him as soon as she saw him.

In a cupboard. A cupboard. (He killed them too quickly, too easily. He should’ve taken his time taking them apart. Chained them to a rockface and picked at their organs and bones like a vulture. Left them to be gnawed on by rats and birds a little more each day.)

His girl whimpers at the heat of his anger and irritation, and he ducks his head and presses his lips to her forehead, his voice low and easing, shh, sweet girl, it’s alright.

She weighs nothing, and it’s his own fault for being so caught by it. She’s taken up so much space in his mind for years that the reality of her, no matter that he knows she’s nothing but a four-year-old child, leaves him staggering to process it.

He’s been hunting for her for so long. Four years since he knew about the idea of her. Three years since he’s known her, known her voice and her face in flashes, known her hunger and her tears, known the terribly rare sound of her laughter. (Once, just once, a kitten-lick on her palm, a stale house with an awkwardly-kind old woman surrounded by cats who fed her stale cake.)

A squib, he’d found out later, a kind old fucking squib faithful to Albus. She’d lived only long enough to seal her own fate. (A terribly small girl, she’d said around her tea cup, her eyes glassy and unfocused, I’m not sure they treat her very well but—)

But.

When he was a boy, he imagined that when the day came that he and Albus came wand-point to wand-point, it would be bloody and beautiful and biblical. The battle of Armageddon; the orphan boy and the false king.

(His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God.)

A final stand that would raze Britain to its foundations and let the victor rebuild it in whatever image they chose. A fanciful, violent dream shaped by a boy sculpted by his childhood. Verses twisted to fantasies. Recitation twisted to conception.

It would have been something.

But now— now Albus has fashioned himself a noose of his own making and it tightens by the hour. Inches tighter by the minute. There will be no crowns and no battle, no fire and no brimstone.

There are bruises on her and she weighs nothing.

He holds her through the twist of Apparition, carries her into his estate that’s been sitting empty, sitting waiting, sitting ready for the moment he finally found her.

He peels her out of her too-large muggle clothes and sinks her into a bath so overloaded by bubbles from an overeager house-elf that she nearly disappears into them.

The house elves send food and Harrie picks at apple slices with peanut butter and sliced fruit with slick little fingers.

He sinks himself onto a conjured stool beside the tub and does not even once think about what anyone would think about Lord Voldemort sitting at the side of a child’s bathtub.

Instead, he rolls his sleeves and pulls bubbles into little animal shapes to move around her head. Sends an Erumpet charging through a bubble-boulder, a snake winding over her head, a little fluttering pixie that blows bubbles out of its little bubble mouth.

Her laughter is sweeter than that one echoing sound of it he heard once in his chest— sweeter than any sound, in truth, in all the years he’s been alive or a shade or something caught between the two.

Harrie laughs and giggles and soaks until she’s pink and pruned, until all the filth of those muggles is nothing more than dirt sinking down the drain.

After, when he plucks her out of the tub and wraps her in a too-large towel, she stands between his bent knees and shivers in the chill outside of the tub, the fluffy thick, white towel tugged up to her mouth as she blinks at him all wide-eyed and green; hopeful, resigned, curious, cautious.

“Are you real?” she asks, her voice small and muffled as he rubs his hands briskly over her shoulders and back to warm her up again.

His anger is a sudden and ice-cold dagger inside of him. Harrie's brows furrow and her body tightens, shoulders tensing, pulling the towel higher and tighter until its right under her nose.

He reigns it in, swallowing it down and resumes rubbing over her shoulders and back. “Yes, I’m real,” he says, as light and easy as he can manage. “Do I not feel real?”

She shrugs her little shoulders and leans into him, tucking her head against his shoulder. She’s warm and damp and he can feel it soaking into his clothes slowly, but he wraps her up in his arms and lets her burrow closer, still clutching at the towel but pressing herself into him.

“I’m real,” he says as her hair soaks his shoulder and she turns her head and presses her cheek against his chest. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time, Harrie.”

She’s quiet, her body slowly easing in his arms as her shivers subside. “You promise you’re real?”

“I promise.”

(Albus has lost the right to be remembered. He’ll be no more than those muggles dead in Four Privet Drive, a smear of bug guts on glass.

He’ll leave the man to rot in a field, he thinks.

Nothing but dead and rotting meat.)

I was with you, he says, with his fingers ghosting along her scar. Right here, always.

He’s warm and so big and Harrie never feels like she can get close enough, no matter where she tucks her head or how hard her hand curls into his shirt. His heartbeat is steady and familiar, even when it wasn’t. Even when she isn’t sure she knew his face, she thinks she always knew him.

I had to put myself back together, he’ll say, with his fingers on her cheek or her scar, his voice this low-rolling thing that fills her up so nicely, rumbling out of his chest and into her. You were my little guide in the dark for all my scattered parts.

She doesn’t like the idea of him being apart but in her mind he’s like a puzzle and she’s piecing him back together with her own little hands, fitting all his edges into hers the way her still-bony knees and elbows fit so nicely into the warmth of his chest or under his arm. The way her cheek will fit hotly against his shoulder and she can hear that wave-like whump-bump of his heart that always reminds of her when she was in her cupboard and it was dark and empty but not so empty at all. When she’d shut her eyes and plug her ears to cover the sound of the Dursleys forgetting about her. In the quiet, in the press of her palms, she’d hear that ocean-like sound, whump-bump, whump-bump.

It’s her favourite place to be, listening to that sound inside of him; her ear pressed up against his shoulder or chest and she thinks he knows it, too, because sometimes he’ll slide his hand over her cheek until it covers her other ear, until the world fades away and there’s nothing but that sound. Nothing but the weight of his palm, his fingers in her hair and his thumb tracing slowly over the edges of her scar.

Whumpbump.

There’s a man kneeling on the floor, and he’s bound in shackles and he looks at Harrie with the saddest look Harrie’s ever seen, like those dark paintings she’s seen hanging on the walls in the Malfoy’s long hallways, their faces twisted and dark.

The man in front of her and Tom says her name like it’s something other than just a name.

“Harrie,” he says with a face that twists almost painfully towards tears. Harrie, I’m so sorry—

She doesn’t know what he’s sorry for, but one of the Death Eaters standing next to him yanks a thick silver chain that’s attached to a thick silver collar around his neck and the man grits his teeth as his eyes flash yellow and something growls low in his throat as he winces in pain.

Tom carries her as he walks in front of the man, but there’s a smile on his face just for her, and in her ear he says: he thought he could hide you from me, like it’s a funny little secret just for them.

Harrie almost laughs, burrowing her smile into his chest instead; she doesn’t think it’s the right place to laugh, it’s too cold and tight in the room. It doesn’t feel right. But it’s funny all the same and she feels it bubble inside of her because—

Because Tom hunted giants for her, she knows the story; she was hidden away like a princess in those adventures in her picture books.

The half-giant came thundering through the rubble and stole you away from the battle right when I’d finally found you.

The giant had been the one to leave her with the Dursleys, Tom said.

Sometimes, Harrie thinks she remembers it, this cracking roar of a sound that she thinks must’ve been the giant; she remembers being carried so high up that it must have been something very tall carrying her.

He was the key to finding you, he’d tell her whenever she asked for the story, and I fought him until he fell like a great, old tree and then I cracked him open until he spilled all those terrible secrets in his thick, giant head.

It’s silly, she thinks, that anyone could think Tom wouldn’t find her. The man kneeling in front of them should have known better.

“This one,” Tom says as he shifts Harrie in his arms and walks around the chained man. “Was one of Albus’ most loyal little dogs. But he’s been hiding away in the muggle world, hasn’t he? Like the little traitor he is.”

The last comes out sharper, harder, and Harrie feels Tom’s anger in her belly; sometimes she’ll get echoes of it when he tells the story but it’s brighter now, more real.

It isn’t just a bedtime story, she knows, no matter how many times she asks for him to tell it. She knows it’s all real.

Tom fought giants for her.

“Not even a dog,” Tom says and then he smiles again and presses it into Harrie’s cheek until Harrie looks at him and wraps her arms around his neck and drops her cheek to the thick of his shoulder to watch the bound man from the comfort of Tom’s heartbeat beneath her ear when he pulls back.

“No, not a dog,” he says lightly. “But we’ll let him find himself, won’t we, sweet girl? We’ll show him what sort of beast he truly is.”

The man swallows and jerks in his chains, his eyes closing as his shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry, Harrie.”

She frowns and fiddles with a button on Tom’s shirt, blinking at the man; she doesn’t know what to think about him, only that he’s awfully silly for thinking Tom wouldn’t find her, and must not be that smart to think he could hide.

Tom’s very, very good and Hide and Seek. He always finds her.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” Tom says lightly. “We should go to the beach, shouldn’t we?”

Harrie sits straighter in his arms, glancing at the other man. She doesn’t think Tom means to bring him along, they usually only go to the beach together but… “Just us?”

Tom chuckles and nods. “Just us. He’ll be much too busy tonight, I’m afraid. He’s been cooped up and hiding for so long, I’d imagine he needs some time to be himself, hm?” he pinches her side, his smile growing at her laughter before he turns his head to look at the other man. “And he must be quite hungry, I’d imagine.”

Nagini, Tom tells her, holding her in the waist-deep water along the edges of the lake as the snake slides through the waters around them like a glimmer of dark oil just under the surface. She’s big and long and endless, circling Tom’s waist, brushing slickly against Harrie’s toes where they dig into his hip.

She isn’t sure if she’s afraid, because Tom’s with her and nothing bad will happen to her if he’s there, she knows, but she clings on a little tighter to his shoulders, peering down into the dark waters, the sun above them lighting only the first few inches, just enough to see the metallic, colourful scales along the snake’s skin as she circles them.

Tom walks further into the water, until it laps coolly over her waist and his stomach and she’s only half-listening but ever attuned to his voice in her ear.

Naga’s prefer the water, he says, but Nagini loves to hunt in the fields. Fat cows and wild deer, the bigger the better. She’ll squeeze and squeeze, he says, his arms tightening around her, until they fall asleep, and then…

He pinches her side and makes her squeal out a laugh and slosh the water around them as he sinks them up to their shoulders.

She’ll bite them, quick and sharp, sinking her venom into them.

You’d be nothing to swallow up, he teases, a little mouthful. A little appetizer with sharp little bones.

You wouldn’t let her eat me, Harrie insists.

No? he asks, with his crooked smile that makes her whole tummy do this happy little dance and makes her grin back as she shakes her head, the damp edges of her hair flying around them.

I’m not food.

Aren’t you? he says, with a laugh as he takes her hand in his and moves it out into the water to stroke over Nagini’s winding scales. What are you then?

Yours, she says and his grin is wide and so happy she can feel it, like little bursts along her insides.

You are, he says and brushes his nose over the soft of her cheek before he lets out a little snarl and bites her cheek lightly. You’re mine to eat up, aren’t you?

Harrie squirms in his arms, giggling at the scrape of his teeth over the soft of her cheek, before she bites him back, snapping her little teeth at him, her nose scrunching with a growl. No. I’ll eat you. She says and wraps her arms around his neck, tighter and tighter. Like Nagini, she decides, I’ll swallow you up.

He laughs into her shoulder, and she barely pulls in a breathless squeal of surprise when he dunks them both into the water, Nagini winding around them, her voice as smooth as silk.

Hello, little hatchling. He’s been hunting for you for ssso long.

The door creaks open and he glances up, even though he already knows who it is, sneaking into the room. Though, he thinks, sneaking isn’t quite the word for it.

His girl slips sleepily into his office, clutching a throw blanket from her bedroom around herself, her hair wild and her eyes heavy with sleep. Her bare feet quiet little pats in the lull in the room, the blanket dragging behind her like a cloak.

Abraxas’ lips turn up at the sight, hiding a smile in the way he leans on his elbow, his fist just covering his mouth. Bellatrix’s jaw tightens in irritation, as young and too eager as she is vicious and cruel.

Severus watches the girl, his mind carefully, perfectly blank.

Harrie stumbles up to his side and he turns in his chair, letting her clamber onto his lap, pressing her warm cheek into his chest as she curls up in her blanket. She grabs at his arm, dragging it over her middle, a soft little pout in her lip.

“Spoiled girl,” he whispers before shifting her, settling her more comfortably on his lap, listening to her little inhale and sigh, feeling the curl of her hand into the front of his shirt, holding onto him.

She’s asleep in moments, the gentle hum of her mind always at the back of his, fades into a soft, blurry thing full of contentment.

“The papers are already running the story,” Abraxas continues after clearing his throat and schooling his face. “The attack on the Ministry will be blamed on the Order. I edited the article myself, malcontents targeting Purebloods and Minister Bagnold, who so recently and tragically lost his wife to the very same violent insurgents.”

“How terrible,” Tom smiles, feeling that same contentment that comes with Harrie’s steady heartbeat against his. “I look forward to tomorrow’s paper.”

Albus dies alone a week later. A poisoned candy rotting away in his stomach.

(He lets them bury him and lets them mourn. He takes Harrie to Italy for the week and lets her press gelato-sticky kisses to his cheek in the heat of the Italian sun and the salty spray of the ocean. He’s never been partial to lemon, but he smiles around glass after glass of Limoncello and laughs at the face Harrie makes when she insists on tasting it.)

Lemon has never tasted better, he thinks.

(He digs him up when they get back. Strips him naked before dumping him in a field just outside of Hogwarts wards. No final words, no victorious speech; Harrie’s waiting for him already, tucked into his bed no matter how many times he carries her back to her own.)

Victory, Tom realises, looks entirely different now:

Sleep-warm cheeks, bony knees in his ribs, a little reaching hand that curls around his finger.

#my writing

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