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chaanv · 1 year

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A headcanon on Abhimanyu and Uttara, if Abhimanyu had somehow survived the war.

Hi anon,

I don't think THIS is what you have asked for, but you did ask me, so.

Enjoy!

(It kind of reminds me of something @avani008 once wrote.)

Drona, the Kaurava Commander on the 13th day of the bloody war, is swept over by a sudden wave of compassion and orders his army to free a badly-wounded Abhimanyu. It is practically sundown anyway, and the Pandava Army has suffered heavy casualties.

The boy, on the cusp of death, fights a second battle for life back in his camp. His father is greeted by a faint smile from him, and the violent storm within Arjun calms for a moment.

Kunti's youngest takes no pledge that night.

Duryodhan, however, is furious, more so than on any previous night. His son has perished, while Arjun's lives on. And so, Drona is relieved of his duties and sent back to Hastinapur, while Karna takes charge of the Kaurava Army.

The prophecy regarding Dhrishtadyumna is not fulfilled on this battlefield.

No other threat looms over Arjun on the 14th day, and Karna, given sharp instructions by his friend, wastes no time before releasing Indra's weapon onto his brother.

Krishna knows he could have kept them apart no longer, but it isn't enough to console him. He grieves in chilling silence, arousing in the people around him a fear the world is unfamiliar with.

He had told his Parth he wouldn't use a weapon in this war, so he does not. Instead, he takes Arjun's body to their camp.

Bheem, on the other hand, has made no vows of nonviolence. He causes a chaos not yet seen in the war.

But grief too great can kill you. And it gets him killed.

Yudhishtir is more distraught than he has ever been, yet his speech is soft. He bargains his freedom for the lives of the remaining Pandava warriors.

Nakul and Sahdev join their jesht in this bargain.

("They will be prisoners, not slaves... we'll spare them no more attention," Duryodhan declares.)

The Pandavas' vows are not fulfilled on this battlefield.

Panchal and Dwarka offer to provide shelter and protection for Draupadi, Subhadra, and their children. The former empress, whose hair shall never be bound again, accepts a promise of shelter from Bhanumati, instead. She hopes her presence in Hastinapur will help keep three of her husbands alive.

That it won't let Hastinapur forgive itself.

She sends her sons to Panchal. The Kuru capital is not a safe place for a son of Yudhishtir.

Subhadra stays with Draupadi, and Abhimanyu ignores proper recovery to split his time between Matsya (a land now void of princes) and in the service of his mothers.

Uttara is in constant awe of how the two women, bereft of so much in life, manage to smile at her and spoil her in the final months of her pregnancy.

But she does not fail to notice how Subhadra's breath catches when she caresses Abhimanyu's cheek, how a look of devastating confusion mars Draupadi's face every morning when she has to decide how much jewelry to wear.

How much color to wear.

Other men do not come to their chambers often. Sometimes Vidur visits to give them the encouragement he can muster.

Gandhari's is a common presence for them. Kunti spends most of her time in the dungeons, bestowing any comfort she can onto her surviving sons.

For weeks, Drona and Vidur try to convince Yudhishtir to welcome a sentence of house arrest in lieu of this one. Yudhishtir refuses - he will not dishonor those who have died for him.

Even at the peak of her pregnancy, Uttara sends gifts for her uncles with Draupadi. Small things, like the flowers she has been told they loved, to remind them of life's simple beauties. After all, she knows how it feels to lose brothers.

Draupadi always hugs her tightly in response, without a word. Agni's daughter speaks less than she used to.

Uttara doesn't know how it feels to lose a husband. She doesn't want to know.

She misses Arjun, too, but how can she explain that to anyone? To his son? His widows? His mother?

In her silent torment, she forbids herself from wearing ornaments adorned with bells of any sort.

The quiet that results rings loudly in Abhimanyu's ears.

How can he help her? He hides his skin from his own eyes because he cannot forget how his wounds hadn't allowed him to see off his father's body. (Srutakarman has refused to give him details.)

Abhi studies Subhadra carefully when he is with her, desperate to protect her as well. She is composed and tired at the same time; kind to them, but distant from her reflection. As if she has buried anger deep within her.

Without his father, without his mighty uncle, Abhimanyu's family feels like a house without walls. Exposed and ready to collapse...

But somehow, it holds itself together.

He's reassured of how when a scroll from his mama ignites divine sparks in Draupadi's sad eyes, when messages from his brothers make Subhadra's lips curve up into gentle smiles.

And when his uncles share stories about their childhood, filling those dark cells with a bit of warmth.

Just over three months after the war, Uttara gives birth to a healthy baby boy. And, before her mothers can agree on a suitable name for the child, they receive a flood of visitors:

Draupadi's sons arrive to meet their nephew, Krishna and Balram bear gifts from Dwarka, and even some of Karna's sons bring their mother's blessings from Anga (this surprises Uttara the most).

Sudeshna rubs her daughter's hair fondly, relaying Virat's blessings for the baby. For a brief time, Uttara isn't so weighed down by what they have lost.

But then, after a few days of pleasant conversations and attempted normalcy, Sutasom breaks apart in Draupadi's arms. He questions his mother about their uncertain future and begs her to undo the 14th day, so that he may swap his fate with his father's.

Drupad is being turned into a puppet in his own kingdom, he says.

Karna's sons are gone now, and Hastinapur's palace has grown bored of its new resident. It is to this intimate assembly of Panchal, Dwarka, and Matsya's ties to the Pandavas that Krishna finally speaks again of politics.

He speaks under his breath, with a hollow and mirthless tone:

(His voice makes Abhimanyu miss the whispers of death.)

"Duryodhan may be a good king, but an emperor has to take responsibility for more than his own city. No one is immune to greed and corruption, not even Dwarka. His allies mustn't..."

"We need to choose a name by tomorrow," Draupadi cuts in, her solemn gaze fixed on the baby in Subhadra's arms. This is the first time she has ever interrupted her sakha.

She shifts her eyes to Krishna and blinks, and the son of Subhadra could swear he hears her say, "I won't forget."

-----

The group takes the baby to Bhishma, who still lies on the bed of arrows, his wishes incomplete and his body embraced by Arjun's memories.

"Parikshit," the aged man suggests when asked for a name, "because his... our future will surely test him."

Krishna nods in agreement, and Uttara cannot remember where she has heard this name.

#Mahabharat #a.#this is surbhi and welcome to an all-new episode of How Can We Make This Hurt?#we are going to overlook (ulupi's mani and) the fact that krishna probably wouldn't let it happen ok #Abhimanyu

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lil-space-king · 10 months

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Random Story Rambling

I would make this private but I wanna share it with my bf.

This is a modern superhero AU (w/ some angel/demon shit blended in)

Orion is a hero with a crazy backstory. He was born into a cult worshipping a god from ancient times - a smaller star deity who yearns for power.

This star deity demanded strict obedience in exchange for eternal life and his following worked to allow him access to the mortal world.

At some point the god - still not able to access their realm, *is* able to impregnate one of the women.

Orion is then born - under the expectation that some dark ritual will take place on his eighteenth birthday allowing his father to come to life with his heir's help as he reaches adulthood or some crap.

Orion is a curious, indomitable child. His mother disciplined him constantly and cruelly, demanding he is the perfect child and religious follower, but Orion strived against the odds.

At around eight years old, he pickpocketed a flip phone from someone at a convenience store and gained access to the internet without anyone knowing. He kept it successfully hidden from his mother's watchful eye.

He also began to gain powers from his heavenly ancestry - angel wings he could summon at will, high resistance to injury and pain, unnatural strength and speed, and the power to speak and compel animals.

When he was 16 he escaped the compound.

The cult was located in Australia, and in an attempt to not be found, he had purchased himself a one-way ticket on an airplane going to NYC or smth. (He earned the money through a series of online scams that targeted very creepy men).

In NYC he hops around from homeless shelter to homeless shelter and crappy job to crappy job, but he eventually found a loving (queer) community that accepted him and gained a myriad of friends and roommates.

At first, he tries to stay low-key and out of the way, but the rising villains of the city compel him to help. He cares too much. He also has a very black-and-white sense of justice (cough he's autistic cough) stepping in even when the law will not but never killing. His cool superhero name is Arkangel.

He has a whole rogue gallery, but I want to focus on one villainous duo in particular.

Artemis AKA Ava Mcintosh is a highly-trained highly-skilled archer, hunter, bow smith, arrowsmith, engineer, and survivalist. Most of her villainy is killing whoever the highest bidder wants her to.

Ava grew up with in NYC with her mother and father in a very idyllic life, until her father was a civilian casualty of some random and cruel act of violence. This was highly traumatizing for her, of course, and she became overly protective of her mother. Going as far as to dabble in gang activity to ensure protection.

When she was 14, her mother married a new man - with Ava's blessing of course. He was a harmless, sweet, academic type who she felt the same strong protection for when he started teaching her about engineering.

But, he was also a single parent, bringing his own daughter into the family union as well. Her name was Minerva, she was Ava's new stepsister and though she was a very weird little girl Ava soon grow to love, protect, and work for her.

Minerva was not human, and unlike Orion, she didn't really have any way to hide it. Orion can summon and dispel his wings at will.

Minerva can't do anything about the horns growing out of her head.

Minerva's father is a sweet, harmless man, but he's also an obsessive academic and he spent years studying the occult until he got in contact with a minor demon. He began exchanging sacrifices for some magical powers.

The two also began sharing a very strong emotional connection, they fell in love and then some greek mythology shit happened.

Their love produced an heir, but not in the traditional way. A child was formed from their bond and sprouted from the head of her father. That's how Minerva earned her name! (The roman equivalent of Athena)

From day one, Minerva was intelligent beyond her years. She was able to walk, talk, read, and write, far younger than any of her peers. It wasn't long before her father began personally tutoring her in all manners of study. Plus, it was easier that way as opposed to sending her to school where people would ostracise her for having horns and a demon mother.

(When Minerva was still young, her father cut off contact with her mother, realizing how she would take advantage of her daughter for her own personal gain. He wants to protect her above all else). Later he meets, falls in love with, and marries Ava's mom of course.

Minerva and Ava got along quickly, being both intelligent girls lacking any genuine friendship. They form a strong bond as sisters and friends.

As Minerva grew into adulthood, she gained 7 doctorates and very powerful demonic mind control powers. Her power comes mainly in the form of hypnosis where the victim has to stare into her eyes and lose to the force of her will. (it is possible to assert enough mental focus to deflect it).

She uses her intelligence to assert her will. She is autistic and similarly to Orion, has very black-and-white thinking. She believes that science points to the right answers, and everything else should be ignored. Everything for the pursuit of science.

Minerva has high empathy and low sympathy. She views everything from a very logical viewpoint, so she really only crimes as a means to an end. (the ultimate goal is to 'fix society' how she wants).

She kidnaps someone- only to use as a test subject. Once shes done they can be free to go if they survive.

She robs a bank- only as much as she needs to fund her next endeavor. The government denied her grant for some reason.

She heists national artifacts - she needed to examine them for her research into the occult.

Ava is right behind her, ready to protect her 'little sister' and Minerva utilizes her physical skills where she lacks. Together they terrorize NYC (or whatever I said) with only Orion to stop them.

(By the way Minerva's seven doctorates are botany, history, anthropology, psychology, engineering, medicine, and law).

Now here comes the spicy part! I don't know if I mentioned before, but Orion is hot as hell, and constantly in need of money (heroism doesn't pay!) Heroic Arkangel by day, by night Orion is a sex worker.

(By the way at this point in the timeline Minerva and Orion are probably around 28 and 27).

And Minerva is a person too busy for romance or intimacy, but not too busy to let of some steam and she's got money to spare. d

Orion's place of business isn't the most reputable in the world. It's clean and treats its employees well, but it's a place that caters to the lowest of low in NYC including a certain demonic villain. With the infamy Minerva has gained - no one would dare ask about the horns or turn her away from their place of business.

Minerva has no alter ego or hidden identity - she's just Minerva Porter - and Orion knows her. He ducks into the kitchen, scared she might have deduced his identity and come here to face off.

But as he watched her, hidden, she calmly walked towards the manager, asked a few questions, and walked with him to the back- to one of the lady's rooms. He wasn't even on her radar.

She was like clockwork, she came in once every week, Wednesday nights. She walked in the door at 9:30 and walked out of it at 11:30. Always the same girl. And she never noticed him clocking her movements.

It was something of a relief - at least he knew for those hours she wouldn't be causing an emergency for him to respond to. But eventually his curiosity got the best of him.

He found a way to discreetly, or as discreetly as Orion is capable of, to ask Minerva's weekly 'date' what the woman was like.

"Oh, Minerva? She's... rough. She's given me a couple bruises! But," She shrugged, "She's a good client, listens to safewords, and pays well. Just gotta pretend I haven't just watched the news that morning."

Orion had laughed along with her and did his best to push down any thoughts about *that* that arose when he was trying to disarm a toxin bomb she was letting loose in the town hall.

The thoughts only got louder when she started watching him.

Orion doesn't have a lot of repeat customers (because his superhero gig often leaves him with a very inconsistent schedule). A lot of the time he's in the box.

The box is his club's voyeurism chamber where employees have sex with clients and certain members can watch.

Minerva had never even given him a second glance, but maybe that day her usual was running late - because right in the middle of stripping for the crowd, he saw her standing there staring at him with dark brown eyes that bored into his soul.

Her expression was neutral but incessant. Every time he looked over, she met his gaze unwaveringly. It unnerved him as much as it intrigued him, was she really all she seemed?

From that specific week on, Minerva began to arrive fifteen minutes earlier, to go to the box. Sometimes, Orion wasn't there in which case she'd get a drink, but if he was she would take the time to watch his performance.

Orion's feelings became a complicated mess as the woman he feared and fought, also became the woman whose attention he looked forward to.

One day, she didn't come to the box, and Orion's heart sank, had she changed her routine? Gotten bored? Halfway through his performance, his manager knocked on the door, asking him if he was willing to take a client whose date had called in sick- she had specifically asked for Orion and was willing to pay time and a half.

As Orion walked into the room to see Minerva's dark eyes staring back at him, it became clear things were going to get a lot more complicated.

#minerva #orion #my ocs #superhero au #i went feral and wrote this for like 3 hours #its much too long and I COULD WRITE MORE #but im tired #and I need my boyfriend to see this now!!!

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reddancer1 · 6 months

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Heather Cox Richardson

November 30, 2023 (Thursday)

Although the original truce deal between Hamas and Israel ended this morning, negotiations kept it going for another day. The extension was hard won after Hamas could not produce a list that had ten women and children on it, a condition of the deal. Israel rejected a list of seven living women and children and the bodies of three more Hamas claimed were killed by Israeli airstrikes. The Israeli government did agree to accept the two Israeli-Russian hostages who were released yesterday as part of Thursday’s list.

Israel has agreed to extend the truce so long as Hamas produces ten living women and children a day, but negotiators think that Hamas will not be able to meet that requirement much longer. When it cannot, Israel says it will recommence the war.

Secretary of State Antony Blinken, who is currently in Israel for the fourth time since the October 7 attack, said today that he is there to work “to extend the pause so that we can continue to get more hostages out of Gaza and more assistance in.” After describing the pressing needs of the Palestinians in Gaza, he asserted that the government of Israel “agrees with the imperative of humanitarian assistance and the need to sustain it.”

Blinken noted that Israel “intends to resume its military operations against Hamas when Hamas stops releasing hostages,” and he said the United States agrees that “Israel has the right to do everything it can to ensure that the slaughter Hamas carried out on October 7th can never be repeated.” That means, he said, “Hamas cannot remain in control of Gaza,” and he pointed to an attack this morning on a Jerusalem bus stop, for which Hamas claimed responsibility, that killed three Israeli citizens and wounded at least six others, including two American citizens.

But, Blinken continued, “the way Israel defends itself matters. It’s imperative that Israel act in accordance with international humanitarian law and the laws of war, even when confronting a terrorist group that respects neither.” Blinken said that when he met today with Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu and senior Israeli officials, “I made clear that before Israel resumes major military operations, it must put in place humanitarian civilian protection plans that minimize further casualties of innocent Palestinians.”

They must, he said, protect Gazans by designating places in central and southern Gaza where they are out of the line of fire. They must avoid more displacement of citizens in Gaza and allow those already displaced to return as soon as conditions permit. They must avoid further damage to “life-critical infrastructure, like hospitals, like power stations, like water facilities.”

Even though Hamas embeds itself with civilians, “Israel has…one of the most sophisticated militaries in the world,” Blinken said. “It is capable of neutralizing the threat posed by Hamas while minimizing harm to innocent men, women, and children. And it has an obligation to do so. Ultimately, that’s not just the right thing to do, it’s also in Israel’s security interest.”

Blinken said that Netanyahu and the members of the Israeli war cabinet “agreed with the need for this approach.” Blinken added that he had “underscored the imperative to the United States that the massive loss of civilian life and displacement of the scale we saw in northern Gaza not be repeated in the south. As I told the prime minister, intent matters, but so does the result.”

Blinken noted that Hamas, too, could defuse the situation. It could release the remaining hostages immediately, “stop using civilians as human shields and stop using civilian infrastructure to stage and launch terrorist attacks.” It “could lay down its arms, surrender the leaders who are responsible for the slaughter, the torture, the rapes of October 7th. Hamas could renounce its stated goal of eliminating Israel, killing Jews, and repeating the atrocities of October 7th again and again and again.”

He added that “everyone around the world who cares about protecting innocent civilians, innocent lives, should be calling on Hamas—indeed, demanding of Hamas—that it immediately stop its murderous acts of terror and deplorable use of innocent men, women, and children as human shields.”

Blinken reiterated that he had discussed with both Israel and Palestinian leaders in the West Bank the need to keep the conflict from spreading, “whether to the West Bank, to Israel’s northern border, or to the broader region.” To that end, he expressed “our deep concerns about steps that could escalate tensions in the West Bank, including extremist settler violence and proposals from parts of the Israeli coalition government to further expand settlements,” both key policies of the Netanyahu government. “I made clear our expectations about addressing these issues,” he said.

He clarified for a reporter that the U.S. is “looking to the Israeli Government to take some additional steps to really put a stop to this. And at the same time, we’re considering our own steps.”

Breaking the cycle of violence in order to ensure Israel’s security, he said, “demands improving the lives of Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank in immediate, tangible ways, and providing them with a credible path toward their legitimate aspiration for statehood.” To a reporter’s question, Blinken answered that the administration does, in fact, hope to see a revitalized Palestinian Authority that can speak for the Palestinians.

This was an extraordinarily strong statement, delivered in Tel Aviv itself, and a far cry from Blinken’s usual diplomatic language, which was on display at a press opportunity with Israeli president Isaac Herzog before the two began their meeting. Herzog eulogized “a giant, a titan—Dr. Henry Kissinger,” expressing admiration for the former secretary of state, who died yesterday, and praising the “peaceful results” of his “great decisions…and processes” (likely referring to Kissinger’s work to end the 1973 Mideast war after Syria and Egypt attacked Israel).

But for all that Herzog and others praised Kissinger, his pragmatic view of diplomacy meant that he oversaw the coup that deposed popularly elected Chilean president Salvador Allende and replaced him with vicious right–wing dictator General Augusto Pinochet, prolonged the war in Vietnam, supported the secret bombing of Cambodia, and so on, becoming responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands and, for many people, becoming the face of American arrogance in foreign affairs, a legacy Biden’s State Department is still working to overcome.

Blinken answered: “Few people were better students of history—even fewer people did more to shape history—than Henry Kissinger.

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thedreadvampy · 2 years

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sorry I am gonna start blocking bc it benefits nobody to stay on this but you know how a few days ago I was talking about how a reason isn't an excuse?

a very good example of this fallacy in action is how many people see me say 'there are social forces shaping how men mistreat women that need to be addressed' and understand it as me saying 'it's not men's fault #NotAllMen you can't acknowledge misogyny that's mean to the innocent men'

misogyny exists as a significant pattern of oppression. men are responsible for the harm they perpetrate. men exist in a society which creates protection and impunity for violence and which incentivises male aggression from early childhood. changes in how society works and how people are treated affect how people behave and develop throughout their lives. men are also people. none of these things are in contradiction.

my boyfriend when I was 17 was a teenager coping very poorly with mental health problems. my boyfriend when I was 17 hit and raped me and that was his fucking fault and his responsibility and his choice. my boyfriend when I was 17 lived in a society that incentivised reliance on women and taught implicitly that violence against women was acceptable. my boyfriend when I was 17 had needs that were going unmet.

I had absolutely no responsibility to meet his needs at the expense of my own wellbeing and him hurting me wasn't an acceptable casualty. his unmet needs, his pain and his social context all fed into him acting the way he did, but that doesn't make what he did justifiable.

I'm very tired of this bullshit tbh. engaging with something as a serious problem doesn't mean pretending it came fully formed out of nowhere for no reason. trying to unpick why something happens isn't the same thing as saying it's excusable or that its impacts are unimportant.

#terf nonsense #i know i harp on this a lot but it's genuinely mindblowing #how many people think asking 'what's at the root of this problem' is an attempt to soften the problem #it's not buddy we can both acknowledge that the damage is unacceptable and real AND that it had. causes.#and that the way to prevent recurrence of a constantly recurring problem is to tackle the underlying cause #(this is why anticarceral terfism is an incoherent concept)#red said

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n1kolaiz · 3 years

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"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."

Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko

Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die

BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS

table of contents:

1. Author counterpart.

2. Yosano's history.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($

1. Author counterpart.

Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.

Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.

Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)

"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.

O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love

Would parents place a blade in children's hands

Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?

- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"

Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.

2. Yosano's history.

Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.

Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.

Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'

As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.

Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.

Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.

The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.

In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.

3. 'Angel of Death' defined.

Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.

I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D

ARCHANGEL ARIEL

(archangel: an angel of higher rank)

I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.

[ source ]

In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.

She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.

In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.

In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.

GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA

For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.

[ source ]

Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.

Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.

GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE

So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.

Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.

[ source ]

Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.

Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.

Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'

Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.

4. Yosano and Atsushi.

chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"

chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"

I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.

Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.

For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D

Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.

Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.

The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.

In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.

So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)

#bsd #bsd atsushi #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd characters #bsd analysis #literature analysis #bsd abilities #bsd anime #bsd manga #bungo stray dogs atsushi #bungou stray dogs atsushi #bungou stray dogs yosano #bsd dazai #bsd mori #bsd ranpo #character analysis #.daydreams

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caldoww · 3 years

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Thoughts - The Suicide Squad (2021)

James Gunn is a director adept at the blending between the ridiculous and the human. In Guardians of the Galaxy vol.2, he made me cry over a CGI racoon’s inability to accept love - “he stole batteries he didn’t need”. Gets me every time.

But this ability has reached new heights with his latest film - The Suicide Squad (spoilers btw). This film is purposely silly with its character designs and dialogue, however this is not to say that it doesn’t take them seriously. While characters like Polka-Dot Man are often the butt of many of the film’s jokes, there is still so much empathy created with the character. His ridiculous super power and dumb costume are where the jokes come from, but also where the character’s tragic nature and the audience’s sympathy come from. There is a beautifully empathetic moment halfway through the film where Polka-Dot enjoys a drink with the rest of the squad, feeling accepted for the first time in his life. Then he dances, and the lights from a disco ball cast beautiful polka dots over him and the rest of the crowd - he is no longer a freak, an outcast.

Anyways, I digress. I mainly wanted to write about this film for its use of ridiculous satire and a plot straight from an exploitation movie to explore American foreign policy. Yes, the film with a talking shark in it has things to say.

The plot revolves around the US government making criminals (who they can deny work for them) invade a Latin-American country to destroy scientific experiments that could pose a threat to the US. On this mission is John Cena as Peacemaker,

a violent sadist wearing red, white and blue who justifies his murder sprees as protecting liberty. See where Gunn’s going with this? The US government has, and continues to, destabilise countries, wage war and stage coups all across the world, in the name of “liberty”. And one continent that has been crippled by US foreign policy is South America. The film uses this context and this character to satirise and condemn the USA’s attitude to making peace. Peacemaker says at one point: “ I cherish peace with all my heart. I don't care how many men, women, and children I need to kill to get it”.

This isn’t the most in-depth analysis of the effect of US intervention, but I do appreciate its directness. However, it is deepened in my favourite scene that packs a surprising emotional punch (along with lots of actual punching). Once the squad have infiltrated the scientific base, they realise that the experiments that have killed thousands of innocent people were conducted by the US and their real mission is to destroy the evidence now that the country is no longer sympathetic to the USA. Peacemaker has been instructed by the government to make sure that the mission’s leader, an honourable soldier, Rick Flag (get it), doesn’t let the information get out. Flag, outraged that he has been fighting to protect the governments horrible, selfish interests, intends to leak the data to the press. Peacemaker won’t let this happen.

The ensuing fight scene is played out in the reflection of Peacemaker’s chrome helmet - “a beacon of freedom”. What a visual. This shot broadens Gunn’s analysis to not only the effect on countries but also the American soldiers. Flag is the idealised American soldier - principled, fighting to save people. But in this film, and the real world, these men are being exploited, dying for a cause that they believe is heroic but in actuality is horrific and selfish. This shot shows us that America, a self-proclaimed ‘beacon of freedom’, is really waging brutal wars whose casualties include US citizens and the very idea of peace. Peacemaker wins the fight and stabs Flag through the heart. As he bleeds out he splutters: “Peacemaker - what a joke”, just to hammer it all home.

A real masterclass in using a ridiculous character to satirise the real-life horrors of American imperialism.

The exploration goes even deeper than just Peacemaker’s character. What were the experiments? They were growing a giant space starfish to be used as a weapon of mass destruction, because of course they were. In the final act, the space starfish escapes and wreaks havoc on the city.

Again, ridiculous, but not without meaning. The heroes prevail and as the starfish dies it tells them: “I was happy. Floating. Staring at the stars.”

The starfish was taken from space and experimented on for decades. This is what drove it mad and led to it destroying the city. The scientist calls it “Starro, The Conqueror” as he sees it being used to conquer and destroy the country’s enemies. The dictator of Corto Maltese, the imaginary South-American country, plans to unleash it on the USA, to conquer the country that has subjugated Corto Maltese for decades. Starro’s final line ties his motivations to that of the dictators of Corto Maltese. They would have been happy with their lot in life but then they were dominated and broken by an outside force. Their only escape is to dominate and break their oppressors. Starro is no conqueror, he’s just a starfish! But he was made a conqueror by the cruelty of the American scientist. The growth of many terrorist organisations can be partly attributed to US imperialism - creating conquerors through cruelty.

James Gunn has created a silly and outwardly dumb movie with B movie and exploitation characteristics while slipping in a surprisingly insightful exploration of the effects of American imperialism. He uses characters as a representation/metaphor of ideas or groups of people in a way that allows for efficient and empathic analysis of their situations.

It’s still in cinemas, give it a watch/rewatch!

#film #movie #Film Review #character #satire #exploitation #b-movie #imperialism #suicide squad #james gunn #john cena #usa

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pinkbarefacedbeauty · 3 years

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The Darkling is Problematic

Ok, admittedly I haven’t gotten around reading the book yet. I was watching the show…for the 4th time, I just caught something. I guess I might be slow or something because I literally just caught what was said.

Everyone at this point knows that the Darkling is a pedophile simply off the fact that he is over centuries old by trying to mess with Alina.

I don’’t know what people’s obsession with old ass men messing with teenage girls. Like you don’t even have the girl be of legal age? Doesn’t make it any better but you don’t even want it to be a woman in her thirties or mid-twenties, at the very least??

Even worse, it is a known fact that these type of books and media are targeted to teenage girls and their exaggerated imagination. I remember being in my teens and thirsting after older men and books that I could imagine myself as this betty sue character who all the guys are fawning over. Like i’d take off my glasses and i’d be banging hot.(because in media wearing glasses always equated to ugliness for some reason. No, for real, the heroine would literally take off her glasses, put a little eyeliner and lip gloss and suddenly everyone loved her new revealing style. Overnight hottie.) Like there are actual adults writing and encouraging pedophilia.

Leigh Bardugo wrote possibly everything about the Darkling being creepy as fuck. She didn’t intend for the Darkling to end up with Alina. She made it known how toxic he was. Like even in the Netflix show, you see his background and feel like “awww, how sad” but that doesn’t change all the creepy and horrible shit he has done since then. In her book and show, it is very clear that she is not shipping the Darkling and Alina together. She is making the darkling as villainous as possible.

The Darkling reads Alina’s letters to Mal. This is not some high school boy who stupidly thinks that reading the diary of the girl he likes would bring him closer to her because he just so really likes her.

This is a man who is over a century old invading the privacy of a 17 year old girl through reading her letters. He reads her letters to find information on how to manipulate her, and he does just that. He feeds her this boohoo story of how he was never accepted and how he was mistreated based on his ancestor’s actions (like she was mistreated because she was half-shu). Everything he does is to get her to only lean on him: the random horseback excursions, the gloves, the story, etc.

Classic abuser behavior (besides actual abuse like collaring her) is to try and make her feel isolated and dependent on him, cutting her off from the people that actually loves her. He tries and make it seem like he is the only person she can lean on. There are literally people that find it adorable that not only did he read her letters to Mal, manipulate her with the information in those letters, but that he also never had her letters sent out to Mal. They say, “Omg, he’s jealous of Mal”, like…. no, Mal is an obstacle to his ability to have Alina under his thumb. He even uses the information that Mal gave him about her favorite flowers to then give said flowers to this naive, and love-starved little girl. You know what would have been a better present? Let Alina see Mal, her one true North (As he knows from creepily reading her letters).

Like y’all really want a man that cuts you off from your home and family, goes through your mail without permission, guilt trips you (everyone at Little Palace was doing so), abuses you, and makes you feel as if you’re nothing without him??? People are really obsessed with toxicity nowadays. Like i’m honestly scared for this world.

If he was actually caring for Alina and looking out for her best interest, he would have (1) let her letters be delivered and receive letters to and from Mal, (2) he would have let Alina see Mal. Everyone else in Little Palace receives letters from loved ones but her. He would have done everything to make sure her new residency made her feel welcomed.

The excuse of locking her up in Little Palace was for protection from the rest of the world, which made sense as we watched/read about the Grisha hunters. That was like okay, there was no choice in order to protect her. But the rest of his actions are completely inexcusable. His mother basically said it might have started off with good intentions, but he is just power hungry. When you are at war, there is bound to be casualties, but he is treating the Grisha as expendable tools to get his revenge against the country.

Not only does he pimp out Genya to the king, but like his own mother said, he has had centuries to master manipulating naive little girls. He literally told Zoya and Alina the same thing “You and I are going to change the world”. The scene I just noticed and was thrown off by because it was the most overt thing was when Zoya basically sexually propositioned the Darkling, because it usually took his mind off of whatever was bothering him. Like old times….LIKE OLD TIMES??!

Now, Zoya’s age is listed as 19-20 in the first book. But her saying “like old times” doesn’t give me the impression of one year ago or hell even four years ago. It seems like a distant past. That would mean this man who is over a century old was messing around with Zoya while she was even younger than Alina’s age (17) in first book. He has messed with countless young/underage impressionable girls who felt like they had no one else to rely on. He is literally preying on children and people are…..shipping this?

People like to excuse when gross ass men mess with 17 year old girls because (1) they are 17 year old girls themselves and consider themselves grown and the man to be hot or (2) they think that since they are only one year from 18 that that makes them grown.. Like no, these are still children. Literally, most people don’t even fully mature until age 25, some people for longer. But seventeen, eighteen, nineteen….these are still teenagers. Children. Then people want to say, ‘well that’s how it was back then!!! blah blah blah’……so you decide to ship it rather the more healthy, legal and logical choice??

It’s like people will shame you for shaming them for liking pedophilia. Like if you know it is gross as hell and you ship it, how can you blame others for shaming you? People like to call it kink-shaming. But I think that just diverts attention away from the issue. This is not shaming someone for liking to be spanked or their hair pulled. This is shaming grown ass men and women for encouraging pedophilia.

If he looked like Jason Voorhees under the mask, then these same people thirsting over the Darkling would be anything but supportive. But hey, I guess foul and disgusting evil behavior can all be excused if it is a hot guy with a sad story, right?

There were also people complaining about how older Ben Barnes looked than Jessi Mei Li, even if he is hot. Y’all know the character is supposed to be over a century right? Y’all should be satisfied that he didn’t show up looking like Albus Dumbledore. That’s the whole point…of how older he is than everyone around him. He is supposed to look older because *SURPRISE!* he is way older than her.

Like the more I rewatch, I catch up all the little things and it just disturbs me even more that people are encouraging this. I can’t control what people think in their heads, but don’t fuck up the rest of the generation by encouraging this disgusting shit. It creeps me the fuck out.

#leigh bardugo #shadow and bone #alina starvok #netflix

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a-girl-must-have-a-new-name · 4 years

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When Jon had first met Gendry he had taken an instant liking to him. Maybe it was because Starks and Baratheons were always meant to be friends. Or maybe it was because there was something about being two bastards thrust into roles they never thought they’d have to worry about that brought them close. All Jon knew though was that he wanted Gendry by his side. He trusted him as much as Davos and that meant a great deal.

Still it was hard to remember all of that when you catch the man you’ve been calling a friend sneaking out of your younger sister’s bedroom early in the morning. Jon could only watch on in complete silence As Arya his sweet wild young sister pulled Gendry back into the doors threshold long enough to place a kiss on his lips quickly before shutting the door on Gendry’s stupid face. Jon moved out of the way not wanting to be seen, as he had to control his conflicted emotions. On one hand Jon wanted to use longclaw right then and there to run through Gendry. On the other hand Jon knew he was being a hypocrite. Hadn’t he done the same with Ygritte? With Danny? The threat of the white walkers loomed over them and no one could say confidently how long they had for this world so who was he to stop his beloved sister from any happiness she could receive?

Besides he knew Gendry’s worth. He was a good man, a good friend. And he had known of Gendry’s and Aryas’ history. well only a little bit. Neither mentioned much of their time together, only that they wouldn’t have been alive if it wasn’t for the other. But obviously there was more to it than that.

So Jon began watching them. Watched when Arya, who was so different from the little girl he’d left behind. Who seemed to carry all the darkness and secrets of the world on her shoulders, would smile and joke easily when Gendry was around. Jon was glad to see that, that easy happy nature was still in her. He watched how the sullen look that seemed permanently etched on Gendry’s dirty face would instantly melt away as Arya drew close. The looks of adoration and protectiveness he sent her way told Jon all he needed to know. However that didn’t stop him from needing to hear it for himself.

“You, I need to talk to you.” Gendry stiffened for only a minute as he felt the weight of Jon’s hand on his shoulder. Looking around to see the concern etched on his king's face Gendry could only nod in agreement. Instructing the men working tirelessly in the forge to continue on with making the dragon glass weapons, he followed Jon out into the biting cold.

Jon was silent for a while instead of speaking out right he opted to walk with Gendry inspecting the on goings of the castle as he did. Pausing now that they were alone overlooking their surroundings at a gate post Jon caught Gendry smiling to himself.

“What’s got you laughing?”

“Just how similar you and your sister are.” Gendry watched as Jon’s eyes softened, at the comparison of his beloved sister. However Jon held back his smile as he forced his famous scowl and eyed his friend warily

“I hope not too similar, after all as much as I like you Gendry I don’t want you in my bed.” At Gendry's sputtering and choking Jon had to turn away to keep from chuckling.

“I- Your grace it’s not. I mean” Gendry was panic stricken looking around wildly whether for a trap, or even a possible escape route Jon didn’t know but he held back his smile for a few more moments enjoying his friends' panic. However when it looked like Gendry was contemplating jumping over the wall to get away from him Jon finally gave him mercy.

“It’s fine Gendry. Am I happy it happened like this? No. but I won’t try to stop you two. Besides it’s clear to me how close you two are. You said that Arya and I are similar, correct?” at Gendry’s nod Jon continued.

“Yes we are similar, but it’s always been more than that. Arya’s been the one person that I could always count on, the only one I’ve ever been able to be completely honest with and up until now I thought it was the same for her.”

“I-” Gendry was struggling to come up with words however Jon continued on knowing he had to get this off his chest.

“But I know now that it’s not. I can’t begin to imagine what the both of you went through together. Nor what Arya dealt with while she was in Braavos. I know my sister well enough to know that those are things she will keep from Sansa and myself, and won’t dare speak with Bran about. But She trusts these secrets to you Gendry. So I will trust you with her.”

“I promise I have no intention to ever leave her or hurt her again my king.”

“I believe you Gendry and I am happy that it’s you she’s chosen. But be warned if we all survive this, you two will have to tell Sansa about what you two have been doing and I suspect she will be less accepting than I am. At the very least a wedding will be demanded.”

“Oh she knows already.” Gendry spoke with such casualty, Jon wondered if he had misheard him.

“She knows?”

“Yes, she uh- she caught us a few weeks ago.”

“Weeks ago?” Jon wondered just how long he had missed the signs, He tried to ignore the annoying thought that came to him suddenly along with the memory of Ygritte’s laugh, yes it felt like she was laughing at him even now.

“Yes, she actually handled it even better than you, I think the only thing she was truly upset about was the fact that she caught us in the grain room. Complained about contaminating the food preserves.” Gendry laughed as he patted Jon on the back walking away from the stunned man. Not realizing his revelation left Jon mortifyingly paralyzed. It wasn’t until breakfast the next day when Danny questioned why he hadn’t touched his meal, on top of her overall concerns over his general tiredness that Jon could come out of his stupor. Though only because he could hear the low chuckle of Sansa sitting across from him.

He blinked blearily at his half sister, trying to ignore the mounting headache he was becoming oh so familiar with when dealing with Sansa. Who for her own part smiled deviously at him as she passed half of her food over to him.

“Yes Jon eat up, we can't have you losing your strength. Right Arya? It would be horrible for Jon to train today on an empty stomach, yes?”

Arya, who up until that moment was not so secretly flirting with Gendry from across the hall, turned to look at the two of them studying Sansa’s mischief and Jon’s discomfort before grinning wolfishly herself.

“Of course, only some one stupid would train on an empty stomach. Also Jon I know for a fact that this meal was made with a little extra love, so you should really try and finish it.” Jon, who had taken a sip of ale in a feeble attempt to deflect began to suddenly choke, gasping for breath as Arya ignored him and continued. “ Wouldn’t want to hurt the cook’s feelings.”

“They’re right Jon.” Danny addressed giving him a stern once over, “You shouldn’t waste this food. Especially with how little everyone has.” Jon exasperatedly looked around the room. Bran was sitting at the opposite end of the table being of absolutely no help yet looked suspiciously as though he too was in on it and enjoying the show. Looking out into the hall he spotted Gendry, who had clearly been trying to listen in and at least had the decency to blush before shrugging his shoulders as if to say “Eh what can you do?”

Jon feeling like a petulant child brought the gruel closer towards him as he pushed the food around with his spoon waiting for a chance to toss it to Ghost. As he waited he thought that maybe going up against the Night King wouldn’t be so bad, he’d have to be more merciful than this lot.

Arya having had her fun and seeing that Jon was at his limit rose asking Sansa and Danny to join her. Claiming she wanted to train with them for a bit. Both women readily agreed, all thoughts of food wasting forgotten. Relief and gratitude flowed through Jon. This was why Arya would always be his favorite. He silently nodded his head in thanks to her. She winked at him before turning away, as they stood to leave Sansa turned to Jon once more.

“If you must know, I had the bags they were rolling around on removed.” Jon looked skeptically at the bowl before him before turning to eye Sansa. Jon eyed her searching for deception when he felt secure enough that her words were the truth he took a giant spoonful, then another. It wasn’t good at all but food was food. Sansa, satisfied to see her brother eating, began to leave wanting to catch up with Arya and Danny. Only pausing long enough to say one final thing. Mirth glinting in her tully eyes.

“Honestly, Jon it’s not that big of a deal, at least you aren’t Bran, imagine he has to tune them out all the time. Why just the other day he caught them in your room.”

“Excuse me?!” Jon spat out gruel flying across the table as he looked accusingly towards Gendry who had suspiciously disappeared right after Arya. Looking towards Bran only to have his brother stare back blankly at him, giving nothing away. Jon cursed, pushing himself out from the table and away from the hall looking for longclaw. Forget what he had said last night. He was going to kill both Gendry and Arya, favorite sister be damned.

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I did it! didn’t think I’d get it done to be honest.I won’t lie I’m very happy with the way it turned out. just wanted something light and fun to get me back in the mood again! Hope y’all enjoyed it as well!

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strawberrysoup · 4 years

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Yes, Sheriff || Chapter 1

Sheriff Carol Danvers takes her job of protecting the citizens of her small town very seriously — there are just some that she cares about more than others. A lot more, in fact, and she will take care of her sweet baby girl whether she likes it or not.

relationship: Carol Danvers/Reader rating: Explicit chapters: 1/? length: 5,413 warnings: Dark Carol Danvers, coercion, manipulation, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat additional warnings: open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

This is my entry for searchforanotherway’s Onyx Night Challenge! My plan is for this story to span several chapters, so it certainly won’t be finished by the deadline of January 11th but I wanted to try and write a fic longer than just a oneshot. That being said this chapter can stand alone and doesn’t have to be read in conjunction with other chapters for plot coherency or effect. Oh, also please keep in mind that I’ve never written a reader insert before, so go easy on me if anything seems off!

Being the sheriff of a very small town and the rather empty surrounding county came with some very particular challenges Carol hadn’t necessarily expected when she signed on. Burgess was mostly concentrated in a small area where the main town was built, about three or four streets worth of businesses. Beyond that were what they jokingly referred to within the department as the Suburbs, mostly cute little farmhouses with plenty of space in between. Of course, the distance between plots hadn’t done them any good when the fire broke out about 6 years ago, before Carol signed on with the department, and had taken out 12 houses. 36 people had died, the fire was so hot and spread so fast through the 100 year old homes the volunteer fire department had barely been able to keep it from jumping the road.

Y/N’s parents, her only family, had been 2 of the casualties. She would’ve been too, had she not been spending the night at a friends house on the other side of the Suburbs. From what Carol had been able to gather, the young woman had just graduated from getting her Masters degree in library sciences and had intended to only move back home for a little while before moving to the city permanently. The death of her parents had destroyed many of her plans, especially when she had to deal with so much fallout from the insurance companies and lawyers. Luckily her family had owned the land her house sat on, the money from the home insurance had come through and y/n inherited everything. She’d rebuilt the house, smaller but just as old fashioned in design, and taken a job as the town’s librarian, enabling the previous one to retire (the woman had been older, didn’t actually have the education necessary to be a librarian and was happy to step aside so sweet little y/n could have the position).

Most of the town seemed to have a soft spot for y/n. When Carol first started, the entire population had been leery of her. She’d expected it, luckily, and wasn’t shocked by the reserved nature of the people she served. She was relatively shocked when they started accepting her presence, their topics of conversation ranging from now the town fair is very important around here so you need to handle it correctly—those townies will run amok if you’re not careful to do you think you could drive past the library this evening while y/n walks to her car? I get so worried when she’s out late like that with no one around. It was consistent that the townsfolk would find a way to wriggle y/n into conversation but they didn’t seem to know it was a collective issue; every person who asked her devote some extra attention to the young woman did so covertly, as if to prevent anyone from knowing. It was endearing and cute and Carol honestly didn’t have much to do most of the time so she didn’t mind the little side tasks.

The small town and county police department was made up of 90% locals who were happy to respond to most calls. They mostly dealt with domestics and property violations, occasionally some sort of larceny or robbery or breaking and entering calls. Wilson and Barnes were trained paramedics and dealt with the medical calls, luckily, although when she rolled into town Carol had forced all of her deputies to get certified in multiple emergency life saving techniques. The nearest ambulance dispatch was an hour away and she was baffled the former Sheriff hadn’t enforced even basic CPR certifications. Rogers, one of her two deputies, handled most of the domestics with Carol as his back up if necessary (it was almost never necessary, even if Rogers didn’t have that disarming Good Ol’ Boy Charm he had biceps as wide as y/n’s thighs and could handle most things on his own). Rhodes, her second deputy, was good for dealing with bored teenagers who liked to play at crime, breaking and entering and minor burglary, along with trespassing. Property violations and agricultural issues were big in a town like Burgess too, but Odinson (another transplant like herself) had grown up in an even tinier town devoted to farming and could handle such problems in his sleep. Pietro, the youngest and greenest in the department, handled what she considered the beat; traffic and parking violations, jaywalking that caused endangerment, vandalism, etc. Most of what came down on Carol’s shoulders were the big issues—the small amount of drug situations they dealt with, any prostitution or assaults. The other officers said they liked her to be open for those sorts of calls, which left her driving around on patrol at least 50% of the time with nothing to do.

It gave her more time to talk to locals than she expected, more time to subtly watch y/n than she could’ve ever anticipated. The more she watched her, the bigger Carol’s problem became; y/n was lovely and sweet and beautiful and Carol was finding that she had a crush on the young woman. Well, it might’ve started as a crush. Carol found herself very quickly falling down a rabbit hole of obsession and honestly wasn’t all that mad about it—the longer she watched, the more she realized how perfect y/n was, in general and for her.

Carol had embraced her bisexuality at a young age, had dated men and women over the years but never really found anyone to her liking. She had an incredibly dominant personality, both in general and in the bedroom and finding someone willing to unconditionally follow direction was hard. Moving to a small town had seemed like a sexual death sentence in all honesty, until she came across y/n. She was so small and demure, averted her eyes and blushed constantly under Carol’s strong gaze and said yes Sheriff when prompted with the most precious drawl. Carol could look down her nose at the woman, could imagine the way she’d feel slotted right against her chest with her head tucked perfectly under her chin, knew that y/n was just short enough that she’d have to stand on her tiptoes when Carol put her thigh right between those pretty legs and made her work for her orgasm, those tiptoes slipping for purchase while her pussy ground hard into her thigh.

It had gotten harder and harder to ignore, the all too carnal desires she had for the young woman and she was relieved when she decided there was no reason to ignore them. There was no reason not to take y/n as her own— she’d take good care of her, in every way, and love her so deeply that she’d never dream of anything else, never want anyone else. Carol was meticulous and careful and manipulative, even if she pretended not to be. It wouldn’t be hard to get her right where she wanted her.

The spark plugs in the glove box of her cruiser were a testament to that. It had been easily to quickly take them after the sun had gone down, Carol knew for a fact there weren’t security cameras anywhere nearby and there was no one around to see (usually the library was rather busy right up until close, but most of the population was at the high school football game a town over). Several of her officers were there too, Carol correctly assuming that it would be a slow night for calls. Peter Parker had offered to take the dispatch shift and run the receptionist desk so that the usual evening dispatcher, Wanda could attend the game too.

Carol sat straighter in her seat as y/n emerged from the library, taking the time to carefully lock the doors—first the door that led straight to the her help desk and then the double doors that opened into the main library, the entrances separated by a wall between the doors and a small hallway that allowed y/n a little bit of privacy in her “office” unless someone needed extra assistance. The keys went into her purse, exchanged for her car keys with a generous pause that made Carol cringe slightly; she wished y/n would have her keys ready and out when she left the building, the long hesitation while she stood alone in the dark was ample opportunity for a mugging or abduction. She’d impress the importance of being prepared and quick once she had an opportunity that wouldn’t betray the fact she’d been watching her from afar.

There was another uncomfortably long pause as she unlocked her car and climbed in, leaving the door open for an extended time while she settled and Carol was sure y/n didn’t lock the doors even once it was closed. It would evidently be a rather long conversation regarding safety. Carol smiled when the car didn’t start after several minutes and turned up her radio. Most of the townsfolk would call the non emergency line at the station when they had car troubles and Carol was nearly positive y/n would do the same. It took about five minutes give or take for her radio to crackle to life, Peter’s voice coming through.

“Sheriff, Rhodey, are either of you near the library? Y/n just called in from the parking lot, she just finished closing up the building and can’t get her car to start."

"I’m just across the street, actually— Coach Steveson asked me to make sure y/n got home alright since he figured nobody would be around because of the game,” it was true, Carol regularly got requests from different citizens asking her or the other officers to check in on people and y/n was one of the top requests, obviously, because everyone knew she was alone, “tell her to wait in her car, I’ll be over in just a second."

"Will do, Sheriff!” There was a click and crackle on the radio and Carol smiled; Peter made an excellent receptionist but his dispatch skills could use some work and professionalism, not that she really minded the candor.

She cranked her car on and reached into the glovebox to retrieve the spark plugs she’d grabbed earlier, glancing at herself carefully in the rearview mirror. Her hair was pulled back to show off her undercut, the front in a twist away from her face with some strands having managed to escape over the course of the day. Y/n liked the undercut, evidenced by how flustered the poor thing got the first day she saw it (actually that was the day Carol realized y/n wasn’t straight, the poor thing had been so caught off guard she’d stuttered and blushed and had 100% rubbed her pretty thighs together under her skirt).

She quickly popped across the street, spark plugs tucked discreetly into her pants pocket and pulled up beside y/n’s car. The door opened immediately, much to Carol’s displeasure; she was sure Peter relayed the message that y/n was to stay in her car. The order was likely too ambiguous and Carol would be more careful in the future.

“I’m so sorry to bother you Sheriff,” y/n started immediately as Carol exited her cruiser, “I hate to call but my car won’t start, I could pop the hood but I have no idea what I’m looking for."

She looked embarrassed, hands twisting together at her waist and Carol had to carefully arrange her features to prevent her excitement from showing, her demure little baby was so cute, "that’s alright y/n, I always want you to call if you need help. How about you get back in and pop the hood for me, I’ll take a look."

Y/n did so quickly before joining Carol at the front of the car, much to her amusement, "you go ahead and sit down, sweetheart, I might want you to try cranking the engine, okay? I’ll tell you when."

The pet name was easy to pass under y/n’s radar, the endearments a regular part of the small town life. Even Carol got called sweetheart and honey on a regular basis, but it didn’t stop y/n from blushing darkly all the way down to her chest. Carol carefully kept her eyes from trailing down the neckline of y/n’s sensible tank top (it was hot as hell outside and paired with a long, flowy skirt Carol was sure anyone would think it professional enough for a small town librarian) despite the fact she desperately wanted to know if the redness spread all the way to her tits. The young woman did as directed, quickly hustling around to sit in the driver’s seat with the door open.

It was easy to quickly reattach the spark plugs, just so that when the mechanic showed up in the morning they wouldn’t be suspiciously missing. She didn’t bother disconnecting anything else, instead staying ducked under the hood long enough to justify a good look around before standing straight and closing it.

"There must be something going on below the surface honey, everything up here looks fine,” she stated, walking around to meet y/n as she stood up, “why don’t I give you a ride and I’ll call Tony out in the morning to take a look."

There was a torn look on y/n’s face at the suggestion and Carol watched the gears turn in her head; leaving her car overnight in the lot wasn’t the problem, no one would tow it or anything, the problem would come in the morning when she needed to get back to the library to open. The blonde had already considered all of the options though and smiled sweetly when y/n hesitated.

"I’m just about to get off for the night anyway, we could swing by your place and grab some of your clothes and you can stay the night at mine, I can drop you over here on my way in,” she offered, enjoying the flustered way that y/n shifted on her feet, “I guess I could just drive around to come pick you up at your place before I start my shift…"

The sheer thought of inconveniencing the town Sheriff made y/n look like she might cry and she quickly shook her head, "no, no I can stay over tonight. I’d hate to make you go out of your way—no, thank you so much for the offer, it’s so kind thank you."

Y/n wouldn’t look up from her feet but Carol didn’t push, couldn’t push quite yet. Instead she encouraged y/n to grab her purse and held the door of the passenger seat open while the smaller woman slipped inside. She’d call Tony in the morning, say she couldn’t find anything wrong with the car but would you please take a look for y/n’s peace of mind. The mechanic would surely be happy to help and would make up some excuse for why the car hadn’t started so y/n wouldn’t get embarrassed over not being able to properly start her car.

The ride to y/n’s house only took about five minutes and she was quick to collect an overnight bag before running back out to the cruiser. Carol kept a very careful eye on her as she continued on to her own home, a good fifteen minutes further into the suburbs. She could tell y/n was confused, if Carol’s house was further than hers why couldn’t she stay at her own home overnight? It would’ve been on the Sheriff’s way into town, just a quick stop. But y/n was a good girl and never questioned those she considered superiors, instead just sitting in vague discomfort as they got farther and farther from her home.

Carol lived on what was considered the very edge of town, as a new addition to the population it was hard to get a place closer, but she appreciated the the isolation. Y/n waited until Carol opened her car door to do the same, shuffling nervously along behind her up the steps. The house wasn’t as nice as the one y/n had built but it was quaint and old and smelled like all of the old houses that had survived the fire.

"Here we go,” Carol unlocked the door and waived y/n inside with a pleasant smile, “I left dinner in a slow cooker this morning, give me just a minute to change and I’ll get it all together."

"Oh, Sheriff, I couldn't—"

"Of course you can sweetheart, I’d be insulted if you didn’t,” she joked with a smile, “you can put your stuff where ever, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back."

Carol could tell y/n had been expecting her to show her to a bedroom and pressed her lips together; y/n would be sleeping in her bed by the end of the night but the poor thing didn’t know that and wouldn’t know what to do if Carol instructed her to put her things in there. She changed quickly, into a pair of tight joggers and a slightly cropped workout top that showed her abs—she wanted to see what shade of red y/n’s skin would turn at the sight. Plus, she had aspirations of y/n riding the hard planes of her abdomen until she came and a short shirt would make that easier if she could make it happen, no matter how far fetched the hope.

Y/n’s eyes immediately dropped to the exposed skin when Carol returned and the blonde wanted to coo her face turned so red, it was so cute, her baby was so precious. She carefully pretended not to notice the staring, crossing into the kitchen quickly and checking on the crock pot of spicy pulled pork.

"I could put this over a salad for you or put it on a roll, which do you prefer?” She turned back just in time to see y/n’s eyes snap up from where they’d been locked on her ass and was unable to hide the that came over her features; teasing her at this point would be a mistake, but it was so hard not to, “come over here and I’ll make you a plate honey."

Y/n shuffled over, red faced and very obviously embarrassed to have been caught checking out the ass of the local sheriff, "just-just a sandwich, please."

Carol made sure to pull from the bottom of the pot, where the meat would be the spiciest for y/n’s sandwich before handing her the plate and grabbing a bag of chips to go with it from the pantry. Y/n dutifully went to go sit at the table, waiting patiently while Carol fixed herself both a sandwich and a salad. She didn’t bother to ask if y/n drank, pouring them both a large glass of the strongest red wine she currently had in the house (bought specifically for this occasion) and setting one down in front of y/n.

"This is my favourite wine,” she stated, looking to subtly manipulate y/n’s coming actions, “it’s a bit expensive but I haven’t had such lovely company over in a minute, might as well share it."

The wine was already poured, Carol’s favourite, and it was expensive; there was no way y/n would reject it now. The food was spicy, she’d likely drink the entire glass, and with her smaller stature would certainly not be entirely herself afterwards. And poor y/n played right into her hands, following the script Carol had written in her head to a T. She got flirtier as the meal progressed, as her wine disappeared, responding to Carol’s carefully probing words beautifully. The blonde was two seconds from stealing her off her chair to sit her right on her lap when y/n gave a little sigh.

"I think I drank a little more than I meant to,” the words were punctuated by a little hiccup and Carol cooed in response, immediately standing when y/n pressed to her feet.

She didn’t give the shorter woman time to move too far, carefully latching an arm around her waist and drawing her in close, her other hand catching y/n’s cheek gently to direct her gaze, “that’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of you."

Y/n took just a second longer to process than it usually would’ve taken before her cheeks darkened, her lips parting in surprise, "O-oh, I—"

Carol hushed her gently, her lips finding purchase against y/n’s jaw and running the length of her cheek to her ear, "you’re so shy for me baby girl, it’s so precious. I’ve always wondered if that blush goes all the way to your tits."

The tank top came off easily, y/n squeaking in shock but not fast enough to prevent her bra from following. Carol’s hands grasped her hips and she walked the smaller woman backwards until she could lift her to sit on the counter, her lips pressed hungrily against y/n’s own. Her skirt lifted easily until the fabric bunched at her waist and Carol pressed herself firmly between y/n’s thighs, happy for the extra bit of height. She wished she’d put on a strap on after changing, she could’ve slipped right into y/n’s pussy so easily at this angle.

"Wait-wait, Carol—Sh-Sheriff!"

"You’ll feel so good after this,” Carol’s lips trailed down her cheek, to her neck and down to her pretty tits, lapping at her nipple gently, “just let me…"

Her lips engulfed one of y/n’s nipples and she gave a deep, languid suck while the young woman on the counter writhed. One hand kept purchase on y/n’s back, a careful but firm hold to prevent her from squirming away while the other trailed down to her panty covered pussy. She was wet, a spot beginning to form on the fabric and Carol grinned. Her teeth scraped over y/n’s nipple, drawing a sharp cry from her and quickly slipped her fingers up into her wet cunt while she was distracted. Although it didn’t take long for her baby to notice the intrusion, her legs shifting and her thighs attempting to close even as Carol stood between them.

"You’re so wet, baby girl,” she cooed darkly, watching y/n’s face coloured with humiliation, “you want this so bad, don’t you? You want me to make you cum? Huh? On my fingers or my tongue?"

"N-no, wait,” her head spun as she reached down, grabbing Carol’s wrist in a weak attempt to keep her fingers from pumping into her cunt, “Carol, I don't—"

"When we’re fucking you call me Sheriff or Sir, do you understand?” Her thumb gave a rough pass over y/n’s clit and she jumped, a short whine escaping her even as her eyes started to shine with tears, “tell me you understand, y/n."

"Y-yes sir,” she hiccups slightly but was rewarded with Carol’s lips returning to her nipple, tongue laving over her sensitive bud forcefully enough that y/n tried to wiggle away.

Carol immediately withdrew her hand from y/n’s pussy and slapped her cunt hard through the fabric of her panties, earning a yelp and the blonde was forced to hold her hip tightly in place with the other hand, “you don’t try to get away from me baby, not ever."

It was easy to lift y/n over her shoulder, her baby screeching in shock as she was forced to hang upside down. The walk to her bedroom was quick and she tossed y/n onto the bed without hesitation, absently deciding to add more weight to her workouts— she liked manhandling her baby girl and some extra training might help it go smoother, especially if y/n decided to be naughty and needed a bit of extra restraining.

Y/n was still dizzy from the ride, too shocked to attempt to slip off the bed and simply not coordinated enough to try anything clever. Carol caught the edge of her toy box with her toe and dragged it over to the edge of the bed for easy access, slipping onto the mattress and covering y/n’s small body with hers. She quickly returned her mouth to the perky tits beneath her, lips latching onto the under stimulated nipple and sucking hard. Y/n whined him response, chest rising with each hard tug in attempts to lessen the pressure.

"I’m glad your pussy’s so wet,” Carol murmured after releasing the abused nipple with a pop, hand reaching over the edge of the bed to dig one of her smaller strap ons out of the box, “I don’t know if I have any lube."

She whipped her top off quickly after finding the one she wanted, followed by her pants. Forgoing underwear had been convenient and she quickly worked to attach the strap on around her waist. The moment y/n realized what was happening, her face scrunched and the tears came back with a vengeance. The no trying to run away rule was obviously immediately forgotten as she scrambled for purchase on the bed, her coordination nonexistent after the strong wine. Carol reached out and easily flipped her onto her stomach, subduing her flailing limbs with ease.

"What did I say about trying to get away from me baby?” Carol yanked the skirt down over her legs, catching the waistband of her panties in the same tug and shucked both articles across the room, “now I’ve gotta punish you before I fuck you, naughty girl."

"N-No, no! Wha—"

Carol slapped her hand down on y/n’s ass with enough force to make her shriek, the sound lighting the blonde’s pussy up like nobody’s business. She could feel her wetness dripping, the press of the strap on over her clit delicious. When she finished up the spanking, leaving her pretty ass red and raw and painful, Carol flipped y/n onto her back once more. The yelp she let out made the blonde smile, knowing that even the soft fabric of her sheets would feel like sandpaper at the moment.

"Awe, don’t cry baby, shhh,” Carol stretched out above her, letting the cock of her strap on drag against y/n’s wet little cunt in the process and wiped the tears away from her cheeks, “shhh, be a good girl now. You’re gonna take my cock so well, won’t you baby girl?"

"P-please, I don't—"

"You don’t what, baby girl? You don’t wanna take my piece?” Carol’s hand immediately found her wet pussy, scooping a good amount of arousal onto her fingers before bringing it back up to smear the moisture across y/n’s lips and cheeks, “this greedy little cunt disagrees. It wants my cock bad baby and who am I to deny this pretty pussy anything."

The head of the strapon nudged between y/n’s pussy lips, drawing a loud whine. Her knees drew up as Carol pressed deeper and deeper and the blonde was quick to spread her thighs wide, the muscles jumping as she pressed those pretty thighs flat to the mattress. When Carol finally bottomed out, y/n was whining and squirming, hands pressed against her taut abs. The movement chafed her raw ass against the sheets and the blonde knew the pain must’ve been a sharp burn.

"Is it a lot baby?” The blonde panted slightly, clit well stimulated by the strap on, “is that a lot for your little cunny? This is one of the small ones baby girl, you better get used to the stretch."

Carol withdrew and thrust in deeply before y/n could speak, repeating the motion roughly several times before she fell into rhythm pounding away at her pussy. Y/n wailed, her ass dragging brutally over the sheets with each sharp thrust and igniting a truly awful burn. The squelch of her pussy was obscene though and Carol shivered at the sound—she was so wet it was dripping out of her pussy, sliding down her ass crack and soaking into the bedsheets. Her mind might not’ve been entirely on board but her cunt was 100% involved, ready, and excited for the pounding even as her burning ass was rubbed raw by the bedding and the constant, torturous movement.

"God your pussys ruining my sheets baby,” she slapped at y/n’s clit several times in rapid succession, drawing a loud wail from her lips, “your cunts so excited to be fucked, so fucking wet its gushing. You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me, aren’t you? Cum on my cock baby girl, cum on it!"

Y/n wailed in response, her little body pulling tight for several seconds before she came so hard her eyes rolled back and she shook. Carol fucked her through it with force, only stopping when the desperation for her own orgasm set in. She pulled her cock from y/n’s gaping pussy and removed the strap, dropping it over the side of the bed as she moved up her baby girl’s body until her cunt was positioned over that little gasping mouth.

"Mouth open, baby girl,” she ordered, hands digging into her hair to angle her chin up, “you’re gonna eat my pussy until I cum."

A small noise escaped y/n, some cute little grunting whine as Carol flattened her cunt over her mouth and thrust her hips forward. The drag was lovely, y/n’s open mouth warm and wet against her sopping pussy lips.

"Use your tongue,” she ordered with a small gasp, feeling her orgasm getting closer as her hand closed over the back of y/n’s head to keep her mouth pressed firmly against against her cunt, hips rolling swiftly back and forth as she chased her own end.

She moaned loudly when little kitten licks teased her lower lips, concentrating the movement of her hips to press her clit against y/n’s tongue. The drag was wonderful, a loud cry escaped her lips as she started to cum and she doubled her efforts, fucking y/n’s face brutally into the mattress until it abated. She let her weight rest suffocatingly over y/n’s mouth and nose for several seconds, lifting up just before she could start to panic.

“God that was even better than I could’ve imagined, you’re so good for me baby girl,” Carol slipped down her prone form, kissing her soundly but gently and licking the cum and arousal from her shell shocked face, “fuck, I knew you’d be perfect."

Y/n looked up at the blonde with big, wet eyes even as Carol continued to whisper praises against her lips. A hand had returned to her sopping pussy, Carol collecting her cum with taunting fingers before swiping the residual from her own messy cunt as well, bringing it up to y/n’s mouth. When her baby girl’s lips didn’t open she grabbed her jaw, squeezing with increasing pressure until her mouth opened and she was able to shovel the mix of their cum into her mouth.

"Swallow it down baby girl,” Carol cooed, hand sealing over y/n’s nose and mouth tightly until her throat visibly worked several times to swallow the load, “so good, so precious sweet girl."

The blonde’s eyes glanced to the bedside table and she sighed lightly, ignoring the huge wet spot on the bed beneath y/n and lying to her left on the mattress. She easily pulled the smaller woman on top of her, y/n’s little waist cushioned between her sticky thighs and her head rested perfectly between Carol’s breasts. She could see the bright red, chafed skin from her position and smiled darkly—y/n would feel it for days, everytime she sat would be a reminder.

"It’s gotten late baby, we should go to sleep. We’ll wake up early and go to breakfast at the diner before I drop you off at work,” her hands worked gently up and down y/n’s back with soft, sleepy touches, brushing the top of her ass with careful fingers.

“I—”

Carol hushed her before she could get a word in, “go to sleep baby, the alcohol in your system must be making you drowsy by now, especially after that kind of fucking. We’ll talk in the morning."

content warnings: alcohol consumption, nonconsenual vaginal fingering, strap on insertion and fucking, ass and pussy spanking, cunnilingus and face riding (is that what that’s called? i’m honestly not sure how to tag that), suffocation, and cum eating. hmu if i’ve missed anything.

#carol danvers x reader #dark!carol danvers #captain marvel x reader #dark!fic #sheriff au #yes sheriff

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greatworldwar2 · 4 years

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• MV Wilhelm Guftloff

MV Wilhelm Gustloff was a German armed military transport ship which was sunk in January 1945 by Soviet submarine S-13 in the Baltic Sea while evacuating German civilian refugees from East Prussia, Lithuania, Latvia, Poland and Estonia.

Wilhelm Gustloff was constructed by the Blohm & Voss shipyards. Measuring 208.5 m (684 ft 1 in) long by 23.59 m (77 ft 5 in) wide, with a capacity of 25,484 gross register tons (GRT), she was launched on May 5th, 1937. The ship was originally intended to be named Adolf Hitler but instead was christened after Wilhelm Gustloff, leader of the National Socialist Party's Swiss branch, who had been assassinated by a Jewish medical student in 1936. Hitler decided on the name change after sitting next to Gustloff's widow during his memorial service. After completing sea trials in the North Sea from March 15th to 16th, 1938 she was handed over to her owners. Wilhelm Gustloff was the first purpose-built cruise ship for the German Labour Front (Deutsche Arbeitsfront, DAF) and used by subsidiary organisation Kraft durch Freude (KdF) (Strength Through Joy). Her purposes were to provide recreational and cultural activities for German functionaries and workers, including concerts, cruises, and other holiday trips, and to serve as a public relations tool, to present "a more acceptable image of the Third Reich". She made her unofficial maiden voyage between the 24th and 27th of March 1938, carrying Austrians in an attempt to convince them to vote for the annexation of Austria by Germany. On March 29th, 1938 she departed on her second voyage carrying workers and their families from the Blohm & Voss shipyard on a three-day cruise. On April 8th, 1938 Wilhelm Gustloff under the command of Captain Carl Lübbe departed Hamburg for England where she anchored over three miles offshore of Tilbury so as to remain in international waters. This allowed her to act as a floating polling station for German and Austrian citizens living in England who wished to vote on the approaching plebiscite on Anschluss (Union of Austria with Germany).

After undertaking a further voyage on April 14th to 19th, 1938, she went on an Osterfahrt (Easter Voyage) before her actual official maiden voyage, which was undertaken between April 26th to May 6th, 1938 when she joined Der Deutsche, Oceania and Sierra Cordoba on a group cruise to the Madeira Islands. Between May 20th, to June 2nd, 1939, she was diverted from her pleasure cruises. With seven other ships in the KdF fleet, she transported the Condor Legion back from Spain following the victory of the Nationalist forces under General Francisco Franco in the Spanish Civil War. From March 1938 until August 1939, Wilhelm Gustloff took over 80,000 passengers on a total of 60 voyages, all around Europe. From September 1939 to November 1940, she served as a hospital ship, officially designated Lazarettschiff D. Beginning on November 20th, 1940, the medical equipment was removed from the ship, and she was repainted from the hospital ship colours of white with a green stripe to standard naval grey. As a consequence of the Allied blockade of the German coastline, she was used as an accommodations ship (barracks) for approximately 1,000 U-boat trainees of the 2nd Submarine Training Division (2. Unterseeboot-Lehrdivision) in the port of Gdynia, which had been occupied by Germany and renamed Gotenhafen, located near Danzig (Gdańsk). Wilhelm Gustloff sat in dock there for over four years. In 1942, SS Cap Arcona was used as a stand-in for RMS Titanic in the German film version of the disaster. Filmed in Gotenhafen, the 2nd Submarine Training Division acted as extras in the movie. Eventually she was put back into service to transport civilians and military personnel as part of Operation Hannibal.

Operation Hannibal was the naval evacuation of German troops and civilians as the Red Army advanced. Wilhelm Gustloff's final voyage was to evacuate German refugees, military personnel, and technicians from Courland, East Prussia, and Danzig-West Prussia. Many had worked at advanced weapon bases in the Baltic from Gdynia/Gotenhafen to Kiel. The ship's complement and passenger lists cited 6,050 people on board, but these did not include many civilians who boarded the ship without being recorded in the official embarkation records. A German archivist and Gustloff survivor who extensively researched the sinking during the, concluded that Wilhelm Gustloff was carrying a crew of 173 (naval armed forces auxiliaries), 918 officers, NCOs, and men of the 2 Unterseeboot-Lehrdivision, 373 female naval auxiliary helpers, 162 wounded soldiers, and 8,956 civilians, for a total of 10,582 passengers and crew. The passengers, besides civilians, included Gestapo personnel, members of the Organisation Todt, and Nazi officials with their families. The ship was overcrowded, and due to the temperature and humidity inside, many passengers defied orders not to remove their life jackets. The ship left Danzig (Gdańsk) at 12:30 pm on January 30th, 1945, accompanied by the passenger liner Hansa, also filled with civilians and military personnel, and two torpedo boats. Hansa and one torpedo boat developed mechanical problems and could not continue, leaving Wilhelm Gustloff with one torpedo boat escort, Löwe.

Against the advice of the military commander, Lieutenant Commander Wilhelm Zahn (a submariner who argued for a course in shallow waters close to shore and without lights), Wilhelm Gustloff's captain Friedrich Petersen decided to head for deep water which was known to have been cleared of mines. When he was informed by a mysterious radio message of an oncoming German minesweeper convoy, he decided to activate his ship's red and green navigation lights so as to avoid a collision in the dark, making Wilhelm Gustloff easy to spot in the night. As Wilhelm Gustloff had been fitted with anti-aircraft guns, and the Germans did not mark her as a hospital ship, no notification of her operating in a hospital capacity had been given and, as she was transporting military personnel, she did not have any protection as a hospital ship under international accords. The ship was soon sighted by the Soviet submarine S-13, under the command of Captain Alexander Marinesko. The submarine sensor on board the escorting torpedo boat had frozen, rendering it inoperable, as had Wilhelm Gustloff's anti-aircraft guns, leaving the vessels defenseless. Marinesko followed the ships to their starboard (seaward) side for two hours before making a daring move to surface his submarine and steer it around Wilhelm Gustloff's stern, to attack it from the port side closer to shore, from whence the attack would be less expected. At around 9 pm (CET), Marinesko ordered his crew to launch four torpedoes at Wilhelm Gustloff's port side. The three torpedoes which were fired successfully all struck Wilhelm Gustloff on her port side. The first torpedo struck Wilhelm Gustloff's bow, causing the watertight doors to seal off the area which contained quarters where off-duty crew members were sleeping. The second torpedo hit the accommodations for the women's naval auxiliary, located in the ship's drained swimming pool, dislodging the pool tiles at high velocity, which caused heavy casualties; only three of the 373 quartered there survived. The third torpedo was a direct hit on the engine room located amidships, disabling all power and communications.

Reportedly, only nine lifeboats were able to be lowered; the rest had frozen in their davits and had to be broken free. About 20 minutes after the torpedoes' impact, Wilhelm Gustloff listed dramatically to port, so that the lifeboats lowered on the high starboard side crashed into the ship's tilting side, destroying many lifeboats and spilling their occupants across the ship's side. The water temperature in the Baltic Sea at that time of year is usually around 4 °C (39 °F); however, this was a particularly cold night, with an air temperature of −18 to −10 °C (0 to 14 °F) and ice floes covering the surface. Many deaths were caused either directly by the torpedoes or by drowning in the onrushing water. Others were crushed in the initial stampede caused by panicked passengers on the stairs and decks. Many others jumped into the icy Baltic. The majority of those who perished succumbed to exposure in the freezing water. Less than 40 minutes after being struck, Wilhelm Gustloff was lying on her side. She sank bow-first 10 minutes later, in 44 m (144 ft) of water. German forces were able to rescue 1252 of the survivors from the attack, figures from research make the loss in the sinking to be "9,343 men, women and children". Many ships carrying civilians were sunk during the war by both the Allies and Axis Powers. However, based on the latest estimates of passenger numbers and those known to be saved, Wilhelm Gustloff remains by far the largest loss of life resulting from the sinking of one vessel in maritime history. About 1,000 German naval officers and men were aboard during, and died in, the sinking of Wilhelm Gustloff. The women on board the ship at the time of the sinking were inaccurately described by Soviet propaganda as "SS personnel from the German concentration camps". Before sinking Wilhelm Gustloff, Alexander Marinesko was facing a court martial due to his problems with alcohol and for being caught in a brothel while he and his crew were off duty, so Marinesko was thus deemed "not suitable to be a hero" for his actions. Therefore, instead of gaining the title Hero of the Soviet Union, he was awarded the lesser Order of the Red Banner.

#second world war #world war 2 #world war ii #tragic #naval history #cruise ship #sinking ship #german navy #german history #soviet history

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chrysaint · 3 years

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FFXIV Shadowbringer Flavor Text from background NPC’s

Main Story Quest: Word from On High Location: The Crystarium, The Bridges, Fort Jobb, Radisca’s Round, The Ostall Imperative Excluding NPC’s locked behind side Quests

Just scripts from NPC’s that say something different during certain points of MSQ. Notable amount of non-interactive NPC’s are gone, some NPC’s who said nothing different before are now say something different after previous quest. https://ffxiv.gamerescape.com/wiki/Word_from_On_High

The Crystarium Katliss: We're mustering up all the resources we can to provide relief to our citizens. If there's something you need, just let me know.

Cassard: I saw you, Naonori─saw you fighting the eaters on the front lines. That was impressive stuff.

Irill: I have not been able to stop second-guessing myself since the battle. If only we had been quicker to send supplies, how many more lives could have been saved? I suppose I should take solace that we were able to do anything at all, but that is easier said than done...

Thickeman: You are safe!? Thank the gods! If you are injured, make for Spagyrics at once! The chirurgeons there will see to your wounds.

Rosard: All of our vaunted weaponry, and still we suffered the casualties we did. The sin eaters are a frightening foe indeed...

Valthewyl: I've never seen a sin eater attack of this scale! Medicine, bandages...we are running out of anything and everything at an alarming rate! Gods have mercy...

Emythia: Those who were wounded battling the sin eaters always beg for us to put them out of their misery before they hurt anyone. You can see it in their eyes that they don't want to die, and yet─ Damn it all! If only there was more I could do for them...

Fae-Hann: There are so many wounded that it will be a miracle if we manage to treat them all with so few staff...but it's a miracle we'll need to make happen.

Chessamile: Oh dear, we've never seen so many sin eaters before... We must make ready to receive the wounded.

Wounded Guard: I-I'm all right, I think. My injuries have been tended to.

Lesthil: I am heartened to see you return, friend. Thanks to the bravery and resilience of my comrades, we, too, live to fight another day.

Bethard: I do hope that the wounded make a swift recovery. There were so many... But fretting over it will avail us naught. What might I do for you?

Bragi: Medical supplies are selling as soon as we stock them, but the shelves are still heavy with foodstuffs and clothing. So many who won't be coming home...

Julstan: Lakeland suffered great casualties in the battle. I may be a merchant, but profit is the last thing on my mind at a time like this. I only want to do everything in my power to get the suffering the supplies they need.

Sylgham: Nothing weighs quite so heavy on the heart as cleaning the rooms of those we lost. I see their smiling faces in my mind's eye, and it is all I can do to hold back the tears...

Armilla: Whatever will become of us? My poor little girl...

Heggie: The sin eaters scare me to the depths of my soul. They show no capacity for reason, for mercy... They come, and they take everything from us. Oh, whatever can we do?

Lobarth: My father is big and strong! He fights for the guard! Or at least...he did. They told me he got hurt in the battle, and now he's resting at some place whose name I can't pronounce. They won't even let me visit him. I hope he comes back soon...

Dawkes: The immediate danger has passed, but I fear the future may only hold worse. We have lost too many good men and women today, and there is no telling what action Eulmore will take next.

Glynard: Things seem to have calmed down with the eaters, so the Stairs is back to business as usual. Why don't you stay and have a pint, if you're not too busy?

Leweralth: It was you and your companions who led the defense of the city, yes? I cannot begin to express my gratitude!

Gracine: This is no time for small talk! I must prepare the emergency foodstuffs for shipment at once!

Astrille: I saw you assist the Exarch in erecting the barrier that warded off the sin eaters. I cannot thank you enough for saving our lives.

Szem Djenmai: We witnessed your bravery, Naonori. Full many citizens are alive now thanks to your swift actions. You have our gratitude.

Melboth: Reading these records, one can see the sheer scope of the casualties and damage we have suffered. It is demoralizing, to say the least.

Ilsgor: These are grim times we're living in. And of all the days not to be able to find my what-do-you-call-it! Have you seen it anywhere? You know what I mean!

Leinneil: Improving cultivars for more efficient healing is a time-consuming task. I only wish there was more I could do to be of assistance at times like these...

Evelie: We have already mixed one batch of medicine to deliver to Spagyrics, and are currently in the process of making another. Leave it to us!

Mao-Ladd: I'm working to improve the strains of fruit we grow. There's nothing like a sweet and succulent morsel to lift the people's spirits.

Uilmet: How kind of you to come and check on our safety. We are fine, thanks to the brave men and women who protected us. As a show of gratitude, we're growing a veritable feast of fresh veggies!

Yalard: It is good to see you safe, traveler. When you stopped showing up for a while, I had feared the sin eaters got you.

Moren: We are fortunate that those who came before us had the foresight to record not only their triumphs, but their failures as well. Will you take advantage of their woeful experience...?

The Bridges Philard: Though we survived the battle, our supply shortage has reached a critical level. I have put in an order to the Crystarium, but with all of our outposts reeling, I fear that there is not much they will be able to do for us...

Shira-Kee: We escaped serious casualties in the sin eater onslaught, and suffer only from a shortage of supplies. From what I hear, the other outposts were not nearly so lucky.

Nanard: Much as expected, few sin eaters so much as attempted to breach the Bridges, and we suffered no real casualties. This is small solace, however, knowing what happened to so many of our brothers- and sisters-in-arms.

Fort Jobb Ilthri: The last sin eater attack was more costly than we could have ever imagined, and we now face a dangerous shortage of both manpower and supplies. We must restock and rebuild our numbers, and we must do it with all speed.

Bjorn: We lost a lot of men back there. Too many. But it would have been far more if you hadn't been there.

Grimcogg: Oh, it's─ It's you! I-I'm fine, thank you! Well, not fine, really, seeing as practically everyone's wounded and we barely have any medical supplies left, but...er, how are you?

Chathwick: We are living in turbulent times, but the men under my command bravely soldier on. I have my own anxieties and doubts, but I dare not show them. No, I must remain a pillar of strength for all those I lead.

Fernwren: You, too, fought in the battle against the sin eater horde, did you not? We are fortunate to be alive today, my friend.

Rae-Satt: I was fortunate to survive the sin eater onslaught, but many of the wounded I carried through these doors haven't been so lucky...

Lamlyn: I fear we suffered great casualties in the battle with the sin eaters. Countless wounded have been carried here...many of them on amaro. Oh, how I adore those glorious and heroic beasts!

Radisca’s Round Roi-Tatch: Since the recent sin eater attack, all of our outposts are suffering from shortages of supplies. We have the goods here, but with the roads as perilous as they are, delivering them is another story.

Kristinn: Heh...got pretty scratched up out there, but I'm still standing! I can't very well die now─not with the return of the night, and history being made right before our eyes!

Lewto-Sai: Lost one of my men to the sin eaters. They never even found the body. The hardest part is not even being able to say a proper good-bye...

Varlier: I lost more than a few of my longtime friends and companions in the battle. Yet all I can do is pray that their souls find peace, and fight on so that their sacrifice will not be in vain...

Menther: We suffered great losses in the battle against the sin eater horde, in manpower and supplies both. It will not be easy to rebuild and restock our resources, but we must do what we can. Anyhow, what might I do for you?

Mynes: If we had better anticipated the sin eater onslaught, we might have escaped with fewer casualties. We must be ever more vigilant...and yet, we find ourselves more undermanned than ever.

Bjarni: I've never seen anyone fight the way you did, traveler. It was fortunate for us that you came along when you did. Otherwise, I'm not sure I'd be standing here right now.

The Ostall Imperative Chadine: The sin eater onslaught claimed more than a few of my companions. Sometimes it is hard for me to accept that I am still here, and they are not. But I must soldier on and serve as best I can.

Szeli Vantheu: Those wretched sin eaters... Not even the amaro were spared their cruelty.

Atli: I've lost count of how many good men and women I've lost to the sin eaters. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but it never gets easier...

Mosanilde: I hear that while our forces were occupied with staving off the sin eaters, a friend of the Exarch's helped to shepherd the civilians to safety. Whoever it was, I only wish I could meet them face-to-face to express my gratitude.

Seanric: Oh gods, what are we going to do!? We've fought sin eaters before, but never this many!

Tao-Tistt: We've fought back no end of sin eater attacks, but each one leaves us more depleted than the last. If they keep coming at us with such force, I fear we will not be able to hold out much longer...

Seanard: We opened the castle to house the first wave of civilian refugees during the sin eater attack. As they have many times before, the doors stood strong against even the most vicious foe. Those who fled here later we were forced to shelter at Wolves of Shadow. We could not risk opening these doors in the clear view of the enemy.

Teanna: The recent battle thinned our numbers considerably. While we are in no danger of a food and supply shortage, needless to say, I can take little comfort in this...

Cassfort: When the sin eaters attacked, I was tasked with protecting the lookouts atop the castle. As it turns out, few of them paid us any mind. I reckon my halberd would have better served us down below.

Merlath: We were able to spot the sin eaters approaching, but even then... Well, you know how things went. Updating Side Quest Completed NPC’s Pitrig: To think that all of Lakeland would be the target of an attack of that scale... And yet, the barrier will keep us safe. We must do what we can to ensure that our residents stay calm in this time of crisis.

-- After Completing, the Quest NPC’s dialogue changed

Anguished Guard: Mother... I don't want to die... Trembling Guard: I can't... I can't... Dying Guard: <wheeze>

#FFXIV #Shadowbringers Spoiler #FFXIV Flavor Text

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fullmetalscullyy · 4 years

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royai week 2020 - day 2: little pistol, mother mother

summary: roy and riza have an uncomfortable conversation regarding what has happened in the ishvalan civil war, and their next steps

rating: m | words: 1857 | warnings: mature themes

read on ao3

Up on my side, where it is felt

I pack a little pistol on my pistol belt

I think it might be fear

Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid

Under the skin, against the skull

They put a little chip so that they know it all

I think I might be scared

Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid

And how it gets in the way

Riza’s hand shook as she holstered her pistol. It was a backup in case she was subjected to close combat. Her party was moving out in less than half an hour.

The rustling of the tent behind her caused her pause. Exhaling softly, Riza’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment. She didn’t even need to look to see who it was. She just knew. She knew he’d come. A part of her wished he didn’t. If he did, then that meant she was right, and god, Riza did not want to be right about this.

“It’s not just a war, is it?” she whispered to the room.

Silence. She steeled herself for the answer, praying she was wrong in her conclusion.

“It’s not.”

“Extermination campaign,” Riza whispered, sounding the words out. It sounded awful. She hated it. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Yes,” Roy Mustang whispered. “It is.”

A shaky breath left her. Eyes fluttered closed once more as she composed herself. Tears of horror later, she told herself.

She hadn’t turned to face him yet. It wasn’t that she couldn’t bear to. No, she didn’t want to because if she did, she’d come undone. Roy had always been the one capable to see right through her and make her break. She had no one left, either. Roy Mustang was all she had, and it may kill her to see the look on his face, because he was already aware of what was really going on here in the war. He’d come to that conclusion before her.

“You figured it out.”

It wasn’t spoken like a question, but Riza needed to confirm it for him. She nodded. “I did.”

And now I want brimstone in my garden

I want roses set on fire

And I, well I want what's best for me

And I, I think I know just what that means

Just what that means

Today I coo, today I caw

I have a pistol party and I kill 'em all

I think I might be scared

Of the man and the men with their hands inside

And the women, oh, the women all they do is cry

And I, well I lose my mind

Riza turned slowly. Uncertainty had pooled in her stomach, then it turned to dread. In the lamplight in her tent his features were much sharper. He looked thinner. Roy looked like a ghost, a shell of the boy he’d once been. The war was weighing on him heavily and Riza was sympathetic. She wasn’t much better than him, but at least she wasn’t razing towns overnight. He was reigning fire and brimstone down upon their enemies thanks to their superiors. The “Hero if Ishval” they called him. Riza despised it, and she was quite sure he did too.

“You’re going to fight?” she asked.

Roy nodded slowly. “I am. Hughes is in too.”

“Count me in.”

Determination burned in her veins. She was ready, especially after seeing what they’d turned her best friend into. The dark circles under his eyes and the haunted look in his eyes matched hers and would be burned into her memory forever. She’d use it to fuel her against them. It would be what they deserved.

“Are you sure?”

Her eyes flashed angrily. How could he ask her that? Her mouth opened to protest, but Roy quickly approached, hands up in surrender and in peace. He’d recognised the look in her eyes.

“That’s not what I meant,” he reassured her frantically. “Sorry. I just… I need to be sure.” His eyes were cast downwards. “I’m surprised you haven’t turned and ran after all you’ve seen.”

“We look out for each other,” she replied. It was a call back to a promise they’d made years ago as kids. Roy’s head jerked up in surprise. “Right?” she prompted.

“Right,” Roy agreed quietly, letting out a long and loud breath.

And now I found brimstone in my garden

I found roses set on fire

And I found Jesus, what a liar

So I trade licks with Muddy Waters

And I, well I found what's best for me

And now I see no tragedy

And I, I found a burning rose

And now I won't be packing little pistols

No, no, no more

“Riza?”

He sounded so concerned as she’d fallen silent. She was still trying to find the right words to say. It was a struggle, and it showed on her face as she grimaced.

A part of her felt like she didn’t deserve to ask, not after what she’d unleashed upon the world with her father’s alchemy. However, it needed to be done. She had the power to prevent another Flame Alchemist from coming to life. She had to use it.

“Before we do, can…” The request died on her tongue. She knew as soon as the words were out there, they’d be interpreted, either in the right or wrong way. She’d need to explain herself. She’d probably need to result in begging him to burn the research off her skin.

“What, Riza?”

His voice so soft. It contradicted the harsh environment out here and the horrors she was subjected to by those she worked for. It was unfair. It was one step closer to making her lose it.

“Can you burn his research off my back?”

Her request was almost silent. She hated to speak the words aloud, to subject him to that, but she needed to. She trusted no one else. She had no one else. She was alone without him. Flame alchemy couldn’t live on. Not after it had been stolen by the wrong hands – the Amestrian military. Both she and Roy were young and naïve. They were idealistic and stupid. At first, she’d been furious at him because of their actions. Then, Riza began to listen. Around the camps she heard things…

No one paid attention to snipers. After all, it was her job, her speciality, at becoming unseen. It meant she heard a lot of things that people probably didn’t want her to. She saw a lot of things through a scope that people thought were hidden.

“Extermination Mission 4. Women and children in this sector.”

“Mission 18. All warrior monks. Strong bastards. We’ll need to double up on men. If half end up dead, we’ll be laughing. They’re so damn strong.”

“Extermination Mission 20 was a raging success. Got them all with only ten casualties!”

Riza would pull no punches. If this was the way the Amestrian military, her superiors, were conducting themselves, then Riza would rise to the challenge. They’d rue the day they decided to give her a rifle and drill it into her to fight the enemy. Because the enemy didn’t have red eyes and brown skin. No, the true enemy, the person who’d stolen everything from her – her innocence and her best friend – only had one eye.

“Are you in?” she choked out.

A hand was placed on her shoulder. Comforting. She didn’t want it. Didn’t deserve it.

“Is this what you truly want?” Roy asked. His voice shook and she felt his fingers trembling through her clothes.

“I do,” she whispered.

“I…”

“Please.” Her plea made her voice crack as she lifted her eyes heavenward. “I don’t have anyone else.”

“I’ll… I’ll have to… burn you –”

“You’ll free me,” she countered.

“I’ll maim you, Riza.”

“You’ll remove the burden from my back.”

Roy was clearly struggling with this. His breaths were heavy as he tried to find a way out of it – out of hurting her – but came up with nothing.

“I hate to ask this of you. I really do, but there’s no one else. And I know you’ll do the best job.”

“Riza… You’re asking me to burn off the skin of the woman I love.”

Dropping her eyes from the heavens, Riza saw his eyes were watering just like hers.

“I… I need more time to think –”

Her shoulders dropped in defeat. Two hands were placed upon them. Roy dipped his head, trying to catch her eye.

“I understand how much this means to you. I’m sorry, it’s just… a difficult request to process.”

“I know,” she mumbled.

“It’s not as simple as burning flesh.” Riza saw him swallow. “I’ll have to calculate it properly, make sure I don’t do too much damage –” He cut himself off and his jaw clenched. The grip on her shoulders loosened, his hands slipping off them. “I’ll need a little time to think about everything. I’m… I’m sorry it driven you to this –”

“They twisted you into this thing,” she interrupted fiercely. Roy looked taken aback by her sudden ferocity, and one tear fell as he blinked in surprise. “They gave you no choice.” Her breath hitched as her voice faltered on that last statement. Of course they had a choice. Of course they fucking did, but they’d get nowhere, they’d never prevent this from happening again if they walked away. Riza was ready to lay down her life to protect the future. She was read to give everything up if it meant her children would never know this horror she was experiencing.

She was more than fucking ready.

“It will always be your choice, Riza,” Roy whispered. “I couldn’t take that away from you. Not after what I’ve done.”

Her arms wrapped around his body tightly. She buried her face in front of his dusty coat. The smell she remembered from her childhood enveloped her. It made her feel safe. It made her happy. If she closed her eyes tightly, she could almost imagine them back in the garden of her childhood home, playing happily, but quietly, so they didn’t disturb her father.

A sob left her throat unwillingly as the pressure of his arms eventually wrapped around her shoulders and back. It was a reassuring weight. It was freeing. Roy’s presence, and his acceptance, meant she would never be alone in this, and neither would he. She was happy to join his fight because she would be by his side.

“If we survive…” she ventured. “After the war?” Her expression was hopeful as she glanced back up at him. His face screwed up in pain.

“All right,” he finally agreed.

They better be ready, Riza thought. Because they would be coming at their enemy with more than the shitty pistols they distributed at the weapons centre. Bradley’s orders had moulded them into killing machines.

Riza hoped he would be ready for them. Both of them. Because Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang were ready to unleash hell upon him. Together, Riza was sure there would be no stopping them.

#royai #royaiweek20 #royai au #royai fic #royai fanfic #emma writes

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ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years

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How to be a Queen [Part 21]

Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she’s ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Part 1

How To Be A Queen

Another month came and past with only the acknowledgement of a ripped calendar page. The next month’s page was already packed with ink, so much that it stained my fingers and the heavy scent could never quite elude me.

In the following weeks, Father allowed Impa to step down from her position as his advisor to be appointed as my own senior advisor. Hours allotted for study were readjusted for roles my father had once primarily filled. Slowly, I began to answer his reports and letters myself and scarcely needed his direction. I allowed my work to consume me.

With that, it wasn’t uncommon that my dreams fused with reality. They replayed in such startling detail that I was always so convinced that I was merely experiencing déjà vu. And like all dreams, I vaguely held the idea that it was one but couldn’t persuade myself enough to act any differently. Not unlike the night before, the war cabinet had reconvened after a short break that had given me enough time to attend Father for supper. Now, Admiral Whitehurst was at the head of the war room with an ardent passion in his voice.

“If we do not pull back from our holdings, the opposition will only be more prompted to strike first,” he said while pushing the black tokens further east with the croupier stick.

Admiral Fierlin rose from his elbow, decidedly more animated than before, “The capital is empty. They have no leadership other than the few elders who refuse to evacuate. If anything, I should tell my men to encamp the outside walls.”

There were a few grunts of support that rumbled through the room until Whitehurst bent over the table.

“We have an organized group already in the city! How are we supposed to protect it when the capital has already been compromised? It’s in Hyrule’s best interest that we abandon this fantasy and regroup in safer conditions. For the sake of protecting our own,” he stopped to push back the white hair that was tied back at his neck.

I shut my book of maps. The sudden noise caused a short draw of attention.

“Admiral,” I began, my voice started out small but caught its strength when I matched Whitehurst’s level. “You imply that the people of the desert are not our own.”

A part of me wished to use the fan in my skirt’s pocket, but I refused myself. I watched as Admiral Whitehurst’s temper flared before he collected himself, “The Gerudo are indistinguishable. We have an opposition that has wanted to burn Hylian villages. It is an impossible task to separate them from any Gerudo that wishes to stop this madness.”

“Yet there is an entire force within the capital that is dedicated towards putting a stop to the rebellion,” Firelin sighed before rearing up to a partial stand, “If we show that King Rhoam demonstrates unwavering support for their current government, their morale – too – would be strong.”

Admiral Fierlin was an older gentleman who was a purebred politician at heart. His eyes dark and sunken. These characteristics weren’t a rarity while the candles burned longer within these walls. Admittedly, he had a stubborn will but I paired that with his years of loyal support. Him and Whitehurst were not unlike each other in terms of backgrounds. Each had been knighted by my grandmother and had continuous presences at court. However, as common as their characteristics were, their opinions were starkly polarizing.

“You propose that these skirmishes turn to war!” Whitehurst bellowed. “This is not the Gerudo Uprising of the past that never fully manifested itself! This has the potential to devolve into a national crisis!”

Fierlin was fully standing now, his face growing red, “And if the rebellion is not managed then it will spread, John! You were right when you said they were invisible, so what do you propose when we do not show our support for the aristocracy? Let the unnamed madman who we can’t track for the fucking life of us take the city? To all we know, the guy leading them could be the Fierce Deity himself with all these gods damned rumors and myths.”

I swallowed as I glanced at Admiral Whitehurst who gripped the baton with a vice-like grip while his counterpart continued, “Do we negotiate a treaty when the people he works with want death to our King? No, perhaps we want Yiga propaganda to be peddled out like the weekly paper. Maybe in the margins it can have the scheduled time for each of our executions!”

Suddenly, my feet found the floor and their heated words hung in the air, “That’s enough!”

Much like them, my brows were drawn and the still air made my hair stick to my forehead. My heart beat loudly in my chest and it was apparent that I desperately wanted to leave. An itch of Impa’s voice was in my head saying that I didn’t need to be here; that royalty rarely graced these halls unless absolutely necessary.

“You both must look at these people and see them as what they are – our people,” I spoke like I thought Father would, but even then I knew he seldom cared for casualties. “A people that are starving and need care packages less they be more swayed into falling under rebellion rule.”

Whitehurst closed his eyes and spoke as if I had made his exhaustion two-fold, “Princess, men are not allowed to enter the walls.”

“I’m not blind to that, sir. I am also not blind to the fact that we have trained women in our forces,” I began, cutting him off before he could argue. “I agree that it is not traditional, but if a woman has knighted you then I see no reason that one cannot be a proper knight herself. I do not care for your belief of the capability ending at being spies.”

“But-!”

“You and I both know it ends at a title!”

The admiral grew quiet, then asserted, “How are we to determine that they would even allow a Hylian soldier of any kind?

Fierlin licked his teeth and pulled a paper from before him, “The aristocrats and a few of their elders will arrive any day now. I dare say we should entrust the Princess’s diplomacy to see to that.”

The offending admiral sat, silently accepting the opposition, “I will see to it only at the approval of the Gerudo.”

I returned to my seat as they began discussing how they would readjust positionings and where new recruits should support. It wasn’t long until the candles were so low that light in the room was slowly dimming. Officials trickled out while I jotted some last notes. Once I was satisfied, I stood and seemed to interrupt the murmurings of the last few.

A yawn threatened to make itself known as I squeezed between chairs until Admiral Whitehurst’s voice caught my attention.

“Your Highness?”

I found his eyes and he continued next to Fierlin, “May we have a word?”

“If this is about my seat placement, then I’m afraid it’s impossible to move me any farther than I already am.”

They shared a look that made me soften my stance and pull back a chair at the table across from them. Whitehurst glanced at the other admiral before relenting to Fierlin to speak with folded hands.

“As the General’s senior admirals,” he started with a gruffness in his voice. “We thought it would be appropriate to seek your counsel in discovering General Nohansen’s successor.”

I opened my mouth and closed it, feeling a tightness constrain my speech.

“We have some candidates in mind,” Fierlin continued at seeing my hesitation. “And your opinion has weight. It is something we would appreciate when we put together a committee.”

Whether it be grief or doubt, whatever it was, I swallowed it and forced my lips into a tight smile.

“Of course, gentlemen.”

---

Light flooded in and washed out any remnants of my dreams. I groaned and tried blocking it out with my pillow.

“Good morning, sunshine!” an unmistakable sing-song hum washed away the quiet. Sounds of rummaging around my bed roused me from any possibility of falling back asleep. With a huff, I forced myself to a seat with half-lidded eyes.

My voice was crackly, “What time is it?”

“Seven o’clock on the dime, love,” Anju said with a sweet smile.

Again, I groaned as she peeled back the covers and placed my slippers at the foot of my bed.

“What time did I go to bed?”

The woman looked up thoughtfully, “I believe the evening maids emptied your bath at one in the morning.”

“Hylia,” I sighed and fell against the pillows.

Eventually, I was dragged from the soft cushions of my bed and forced into a seat. Though it couldn’t have been too bad because there was a warm breakfast awaiting me in a tray.

“It was very kind of you,” Anju hummed out while taking the comb from my awaiting hand.

I blinked, somewhat more awake, “What was?”

She laughed as she weaved together the braids in my hair. It seemed like I would be suiting a low, knotted updo again today.

With a pin in her mouth, she said, “That cute little care package you sent to Hateno for the coming spring. Malon just about lost it when I brought back so much wine.”

I grinned with a mouthful of orange slices and watched Anju in the mirror, “Did she? I figured her parents would benefit from it. I had drunk so much!”

Absently, I watched her from my seat. Light locks escaped her cotton cap, slowly were they lightening to a soft red from days spent in the sun. The winter had been so dark in Castle Town that I had thought I was imagining her red hair from last summer.

She made a face, “No, it’s Aryll she needs to worry about.”

“What was your excuse?”

“I told her that your parents own a winery,” she shrugged, careful to avoid losing focus of where the myriad of bobby pins were. “Malon feels more than she thinks.”

There wasn’t a chance for silence to set in because Anju’s best skill was scaring it away. She went on to mention how her parents were and if she wasn’t engaged by the time she turns twenty-five she’d have to propose to Kafei himself. In turn, I’d smile or laugh, and she’d elaborate on whatever I responded to. These moments in the morning were ones I cherished. Then, small details about the court filtered into her words and I felt that immature feeling of insecurity.

“Your ladies-in-waiting miss your presence,” she stepped away to admire her work before disappearing into my closet for a gown.

I glanced at the ceiling, “They miss my gossip.”

“And do you not theirs?”

This made me stifle a grin because the girl inside knew it was true, “That’s why I have you, love.”

She made a noise halfway between a laugh and the squawk of a large bird from behind a partially open door. Eventually, she came back with a royal blue gown. She didn’t give me enough time to think of the reason for the choice.

“Ah, so you don’t go to court anymore because of me and not because of an impending national conflict.”

“Oh, no,” I stepped into the fabric, happy that she chose something with loose material. “When have I ever shown interest in politics?”

Anju laced up the dress and a heard her smile soften, “The lords who bother to show up do find your absence agreeable, however, from what their personal servants say. Though I can’t tell if it’s because of their satisfaction that they don’t need to suck up for royal favors.”

“Even when I’m not in prayer at an alter for six hours of the day?”

“I have heard no mention.”

To be frank, socialization was the last thing on my list of priorities and I was beginning to think it was going to be a detriment. Growing up, I was told relentlessly that my social connections would be the spine to my reign. If the support of the court was nonexistent, so would be my power. As Anju went on about random bits of gossip, I quietly smiled to myself.

“-and Urbosa blew him off totally. Quite honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

My eyes snapped to the mirror, “Urbosa?”

“Mhm,” she hummed while tying off the laces, “When she arrived with the aristocrats last night and Lord Ibauna asked about her-”

“I missed their arrival?” I spun to see her confusion.

“It was rather late, Zelda, but the King was there so I doubt they minded,” then she paused and cursed to herself. “Gods, I’m sorry, I meant to tell you first thing that His Majesty requested you to greet the Gerudo in court today.”

“No,” I shook my head to negate her worry, “It’s alright, Anju. My day has barely started.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” I mustered a rather sleepy smile. “Thank you.”

---

The royal library was large, but it didn’t take long to find her. Lanterns hung from the banisters, but the natural light from the tall two—story windows was ample enough. She sat in a small alcove that was tucked away from where the librarians would normally be. Happiness made me smile as I saw Urbosa relaxed in an armchair with a book in her grasp. We wrote to each other often, especially these last two years where she seldom traveled to Castle Town. The only time I had gone to see her without Father was last summer, where I rode to Gerudo Town with a convoy to see her. It meant being held up in a carriage for six hours with dozens of personnel and barely enough time for a bathroom break.

When I waved away a guard, Urbosa looked up with a start. Then, she took off her spectacles.

Feeling a tad awkward, I shrugged uselessly. “Hello, Lady Urbosa.”

Immediately, she arose and met me for an embrace. I laughed at the strength she put in to slightly lift me to my toes.

“Zelda!” she said in a tone of warm honey. “I thought I would not see you until later today.”

“I’m so sorry for missing your arrival,” I voiced penitently once she let me go.

Sternly, Urbosa dismissed it and gestured me over to sit with her.

“My desert rose,” she said coolly, a smile brimming her cheeks. “How have you been?”

My excitement waned enough to take Urbosa in. Often when Gerudo officials visited, she adorned Hylian fashion and made sure to include the small gold flashes of desert jewels. By both Hylian and Gerudo standards, she was gorgeous. Tall, slender, and cheek bones reaching the goddesses.

Despite the general taboo, she crossed her legs. I glanced around the library and came to the conclusion that we were alone. I swallowed my self-doubt and sat with her in an identical chair.

“Good,” I clasped my hands together.

Urbosa raised her chin, “I do not mean your superficial Hylian pleasantries. How are you?”

Despite what she meant, I almost laughed. Tucking a strand hair behind my ear, I sighed, “I’m doing the best I can.” I paused when I felt a gnawing, “Assuming my best is enough.”

“There she is,” Urbosa humorously said with underlying remorse. “A little bird told me you went on an adventure.”

It was very much like her to cut to the chase. More than anyone, she hated anything artificial. Uncle had no doubt told her. They had a bond I hadn’t seen in any other ambassador. Somehow, she sat up straighter, “And you did not even think to visit!”

“But I did!” I said quickly, “I did, but-”

But I was left alone and wasn’t strong enough to press onwards. A silent knife that had always been there pressed into my heart as I thought of blond hair and a strong jaw. It wasn’t as friendly as my other visions.

“Stay calm, Zelda,” she smoothed, “It was merely an attempt at humor”

“I know,” I bit my lip, “I know. I apologize, I didn’t get enough sleep.”

“I can understand that. I can imagine your stress.”

“Uncle is not doing well,” I quietly told her, folding my hands over each other again. “Every time I see him… he’s thinner. I have to strain myself to hear him. I truly fear that any day I’m going to wake up and…”

Urbosa reached over and took my hand, “I saw him. I saw Rhoam last night as well. You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Urbosa, I-” I breathed out shakily. “I don’t know what to do. Father is a shell of himself. They both are. Nothing was as it was when I left.”

She squeezed my hand and made me look at her, “And now I am here. You have nothing to fear, my rose.”

I wore a watery smile, “You have no idea how thankful I am for you. I actually have something to ask of you.”

The Gerudo woman sat back and nodded for me to continue.

“The senior admirals want me on their committee when they review possible candidates – to replace Uncle. I understand if you’re too busy, but if I could ask you to be present during these interviews…” I trailed off, unsure of myself.

“Of course, Zelda,” she said easily. “There aren’t many that know that old man as I do. However, I would trust your judgement regardless.”

“I appreciate that,” I smiled, though it quickly dissipated. “I’m sure you could tell from Gerudo Town, but the admirals are split.”

This make her harden. “You are not wrong. It’s been frustrating. All these months of my people dying and all we are told is how Hylian troops are positioned at the border. It feels more that they’re trying to contain us than defend us.”

“I realize that,” I frowned. “There’s nothing but in-fighting. Half feel like we should wait until the rebels attack us or head directly into a conflict no one understands. Last night, while you were arriving I suppose, they came to a partial agreement.”

“An agreement being…?”

“Being that if we can get Gerudo officials to allow the Hylian military within the walls, we can offer added protection on both sides. This would enable us to deliver more supplies of greater quantities,” I quickly added, “And I’m able organize a force of trained women, so your laws aren’t violated.”

She grew quiet in her thoughts. I almost thought I lost her until she nodded, “Yes, I can get behind that. The latter part would sway the rest of my peers easier. How quick can this happen?”

“I would have to discuss timeframes tonight, but I can surmise next week? Time would be needed in garnering relief and a sufficient team to carry this out,” I felt a wave of satisfaction.

“I could only ask for sooner, Zelda. That city holds a great deal in the hearts of my people.”

“As for I. That’s the home of a very cherished friend of mine.”

We shared a smile until Urbosa’s face upturned.

“Your men, they are…” her face scrunched and she rolled her hand, “What is the Hylian word? Men are very… emotional, no?”

I stifled my laughter, “At times they lack the ability to manage.” My hands smoothed out my skirt, “Sometimes I wonder if some have any emotion at all.”

At that, she raised a brow, “I wonder where that is coming from?”

“It comes from nowhere in particular,” I smiled politely. “Let us entertain the court together.”

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