#Why would he act so silly and melodramatic (other than the fact that he is?) Sure throw some alcohol into him lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cortexreaver · 1 year

Text

apparently i wrote this in november i assume i never posted it because 1. it was stupid 2. drafts temporarily ate it thus 3. i forgot. it's probably an unfinished list of half-formed thoughts i dont remember what most of it says anyway end preface start post:

in the approximate month since i first played it ive apparently spent around 218 hours blocking out the horrors with dragon age inquisition at the time of starting to write this post. so heres my review but not really these are just #thoughts about an 8-year-old video game. this got out of control i need it out of my drafts but at this point i dont want to just delete it. longest fucking post ive ever written anywhere under the cut

initial + overall thoughts: i had low expectations and when i started out and the character creator sliders were different and the combat was different and the skill trees were sideways and you couldnt manually distribute your attributes and everything was hd realistic shiny raytrace 4k particle physics like youve never seent hem before and so on and so forth my kneejerk reaction having just played dao: awakening was "this feels weird, i'm gonna hate this." and there were a lot of things i didn't like about it but there were things i thought i wouldn't like that i ended up enjoying. the former was mainly plot and lore stuff and some gameplay mechanics and the latter was individual writing of many characters and level design and, most surprisingly, crafting (i liked the masterwork material stuff)

THOUGHTS ON PLOT: as stated above i thought it was some silly shit but i'm gonna keep it vague because zeroing in on each point i had issues with or just thought was lame would make this post even longer than it's going to be. so like the thing is i thought the game before this one was also fucking stupid however da2 got a pass from me because, in addition to it being produced in a time frame far too narrow for what it was supposed to be, it's all SO melodramatic and half-baked and so many things go nightmarishly wrong for hawke and pals that it loops around to being fun. inquisition i assume is also supposed to be an emotional rollercoaster but nothing really hit for me like some parts of da2 did. obviously that in itself isn't a bad thing, and it could partly be a me problem. hold that thought and peruse two paragraphs of rambling that i don't want to cut out but would fit even worse if tacked them on the end of this section.

one big thing i noticed is that inquisition feels less concerned with your character's background and their personal journey over the course of the game. i realize i'm not alone in this sentiment but that's the consequence of playing a game 8 years late. at times it was hard to pin down exactly why my inquisitor felt so flat compared to to my wardens and hawkes, but—when it wasn't a majority of the voice lines being read in almost the exact same cadence—i think it had something to do with the fact that the game starts with its focus on introducing the first big universal threat rather than introducing you to your character. your background is a short paragraph on the character creation screen and it gets referenced a few times for light flavor and if/when people are being racist towards you (i played as an elf) (i have thoughts on how odd playing this game as a dalish elf felt but nothing that hasn't been said before by pretty much every other person who's played as an elf)

in contrast origins has its backgrounds that each set a distinct tone and serve as introductions to various aspects of the da universe as well as giving context for how your character became a grey warden while leaving enough blanks for you to feel in control of your character's personality; similarly, da2's entire first two acts detail how a guy with nothing but a magnetic personality and the power of These Hands* became so respected by the freak shits running the city he fled to from his plague-ridden homeland that they turned to him to resolve their nuclear slapfight. in inquisition you're a pariah for the first like five minutes and then everyone realizes your special hand makes you the only person capable of fixing everything and after passing out from the power of your own earthshattering swag you awake to find yourself effectively in charge of an organization devoted to being heroic. life hack i guess

*not to be confused with inquisition's The Hand

inquisition's main theme, i think, was the past; looking at the past and its inhabitants for what they really were, even when the truth challenges one's beliefs. it's a clash between the past and the present for control of the future. the inquisition unwaveringly pushes towards the future even if it means discarding the past; the main villain, literally one of the guys whose foolery and fuckery spawned the chantry's canticle about evil mages walking into god's house and trashing it, is a walking relic of the past and he clings to it even as he's losing, crying out for The Old Gods to save him as you strike the final blow. you wage war on his supporters, you find the cracks in his armor, you kill his lame ass dragon because that's the only way to ensure he's dead for real this time or some shit, you kill him, you kill the past. it's a fitting theme for a game that strays so far from its prequels in almost every aspect to have woven into it.

near the end i took a break to finally play origins' witch hunt dlc and realized that that was where the concepts of fade rifts and eluvians and morrigan having mysterious motives were first established which provided context for parts of inquisition that i previously thought had been pulled out of someone's ass. 99% my bad for assuming a dlc wouldn't contain seeds of main plot points given that inquisition's main villain is the jokester from da2's legacy dlc but arguably 1% not my bad because my assumption was based on the amount of shit from origins that either didn't matter later in the series or underwent changes so drastic they bordered on retcon.

i thought it was funny that the mage-templar conflict that was built up over the course of the first two games escalated off-screen to a war that you personally ended in main story mission 3 of 10 (11 counting the trespasser dlc) and then the chodester whose shit you kicked in in legacy shows up and yoinks the spotlight. sure legacy ends with the implication that you haven't seen the last of his funny ass but if i hadn't already spoiled his role in inquisition for myself i would've been like no way it's this guy again you are shitting me. there's another bigger villain after this one right? but no it's just him and his pet dragon and then your shiftiest companion who is definitely a mortal being steals morrigan's "i have...... plans. goodbye my friend" bit except with more of a lore dump because he physically can't shut the fuck up. also objectively funny that you can have your character become convinced that they have indeed been sent by god to build a paramilitary force so powerful it starts freaking people out. the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a cult is a good guy with a cult

OTHER WRITING THOUGHTS jesus fucking christ this post is long: i liked a lot of the writing on an individual character basis. i had warmed up to pretty much every companion i wasn't big on by the end of the game, i think because i took the time to chat with them when given the option to and did everyone's personal quests. they all have at least one moment where it becomes clear why they are the way they are, what experiences have shaped their values and worldview and personality. i did not like that the wardens were fully turned into another dumb asshole brigade which is another thing that started in legacy that i wouldn't have expected to continue in a main installment, in this case because iirc the wardens trying to summon a darkspawnimation whatever the fuck in legacy were just some fringe weirdos in the desert? maybe i'm remembering wrong. anyway yeah remember when the wardens were scapegoats in origins well this time they're bad for real* to fuckin uhhh make a point about how anyone can become corrupted or something idk you can still collect grey warden decorations for your nice guys inc. headquarters though and nobody gives a shit

*"what about the time those fereldan wardens tried to overthrow king arland in 7:5 storm" not my prablem

THOUGHTS ON LEVEL DESIGN AND VISUALS: uh i wasn't expecting this game to be so big for some reason and by the time i finished i was a little over it but initially i was pleasantly surprised that there was still more to see wherever i was and excited to explore it all. aside from one cave in the storm coast where my party would get stuck in a corner and some rare (completely optional) pure platforming that was placed in the game by devils to taunt completionist dickheads like me every area is laid out really well

#final editors note what is it about this series that makes people physically incapable of shutting the fuck up about it #ive never willingly had this much to say on paper about anything else ever genuinely unrecognizable behavior

1 note · View note

movedto-erodasghosts · 4 years

Text

the moment | timothée chalamet

moved blogs - @erodasghosts

practically a spinoff thing for perfidy by @peeterparkr and reading perfidy would help make this better. To read as a stand alone fic, just picture “Tom” as someone y/n used to like but he hurt her.

Description: where we get to see a little bit of y/n’s relationship with timmy

Word count: ~4,600

Warnings: none

A/N: the rain part is heavily inspired by chapter 8 of perfidy where y/n describes when she knew she loved timmy. Also heavily inspired by Nancy’s moodboard of dates with Timmy. I loved writing this so much, I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

---

“Okay, okay,” you rested your hands on the table, “tell the story again?”

Timmy let out a soft chuckle, “Really? Didn’t you save the video?”

“I just… need to hear you say it in person.” You smiled widely, “It’s too cute.”

He couldn’t help but smile with you. Something told him you just wanted to hear the story again just to tease him, no harm to come of it though. He couldn’t blame you, he had even teased himself about it and found it rather silly.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically. “So, I found this toad the other day, right? And it was missing a leg. So… I watched it for a bit before going back inside and going to bed.”

Timmy was a dramatic story teller, it was rather entertaining. The theatrics of it didn’t always come from the words he used to describe stories but the amount of time he spent telling it. To end it short would only leave people with questions. To draw it out longer would give people more to consider. He made stories last regardless, giving people opportunities for questions and any random thoughts. It seemed to be a way of letting everyone feel more involved so it wasn’t so one sided. He didn’t like to focus on himself too much, he was much too interested in everyone else.

“Oh, that’s it?” You raised a brow, “ It didn’t happen to be two in the morning? And you didn’t happen to cry because the toad was missing a leg?”

“Well,” Timmy pursed his lips as if to consider your words, “now that you mention it… I might’ve been a little tired when I found it, and possibly a small bit upset when I found it was missing a leg.”

“Small bit? Tim, you cried.” You brushed some hair behind your ear, “Like, actually cried. I saved the video!”

Quickly, you pulled out your phone to watch the video of a teary eyed Timotheé. Everything about the video was chaotic, it only made the story better.

“Okay, I— this is so bright— I just found this toad,” he held it to the camera, “I was like, ‘Oh! Neat! A little toad!’ But then, then I picked it up and…” He nearly choked on his words, the camera moving sloppily and never focusing on just one thing. “It only has three legs! Y/n, y/n it only has three legs. Are you seeing this?” He held it to the camera again, “Imagine how much harder traveling must be for him. The poor thing.”

“Do we have to finish watching this?” Timmy was grinning boyishly, “I mean, you’ve already seen it and I lived it.”

You gently hushed him before looking back to your phone screen, “Shh, shh, it’s getting to the best part.”

He gave a melodramatic frown to the toad before looking at the camera again, “I just, hmph… I had to show him to you, I love him so much. Okay, say goodbye to him, wish him the best.” He stroked it with his thumb, showing the camera one last time before setting it down and waving goodbye. “I know you’ll live a good life. I’ll miss you, visit anytime.” The camera turned back to Timmy who now had tears swelling, “Can you believe it? Such a darling boy… I hope he gets to be happy.” With a sniffle, he dried his eyes. “Okay, that’s all… you just had to see him. I’m sorry, it’s late and I’m crying…” he laughed and shook his head. “I hope he lives a happy life… well, goodnight… or morning?”

The video ended with Timmy lazily struggling to stop the recording, his eyes red and his hair a complete mess. You couldn’t help but hold the biggest smile and he did his best to hide behind his curls. His fingers curled into his palm, resting his hand on his chin and elbow on the table. Part of him was slightly embarrassed, only because the video was played in public. He couldn’t care less about the fact that you saw him practically breaking down over a toad, he only cared that strangers heard him breaking down over a toad.

“I think…” you began, “Well, you know how you asked me when I knew I loved you? I think that when I first saw that video… I just, I knew, you know?”

He held back a laugh, “Ah, that’s the moment, hmm?”

“Yes! Absolutely, one thousand times yes! It was just mind blowing,” you exaggerated with your hands. “I had never seen you like that before and, honestly, it just really pushed me to my realization.”

“It’s fair, really. I mean, had you sent a similar video I have no doubts that it would be the moment I knew I loved you.” He took a sip of his tea, keeping his eyes on you.

Timmy was playing along with your game, it was back and forth teasing. He couldn’t help but wonder, though, when had you fallen in love with him? He had asked before but you seemed to avoid the question and he didn’t push. Maybe you hadn’t yet, and that was okay. It did make him worry no matter how much he reminded himself it wasn’t like you would fall in love in the exact same moment as if your lives were a book. But still, at times his mind would wander.

“When was it?” He licked his lips and placed his cup back down.

“Hmm?” You fiddled with your pastry, avoiding eye contact.

He rephrased, “When was it you actually fell in love with me?”

Crumbs fell to your plate, it gave you something else to look at rather than him. He never intended to make you nervous, so he soon regretted ever asking. The thing was, there didn’t seem to be a defining moment yet. There were so many things about Timmy that made you stop and think about how amazing of a person he is. From his gentle words to his grand gestures. You could say that to him, but it didn’t sound real. If you were going to answer him you wanted it to be something more concrete.

Part of him craved an answer. He wanted you to take your time, for your relationship to take its time too. And Timmy wasn’t someone that needed constant validation but he couldn’t help himself at times. He knew you cared for him, that’s what mattered most. Really, he wasn’t sure why he was so insistent about knowing. Well, maybe…

He tried his hardest not to be the jealous type, and normally he wasn’t. He trusted you and the two of you were always able to openly talk about things, but… something about your relationship with Tom made him second guess himself. He couldn’t even figure out why, other than it was painfully obvious that Tom liked you and you couldn’t even see it. The issue was, Timmy knew that the “enemies” thing was an act, even if it was just one sided. He knew that you didn’t like Tom, at least not anymore, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you did.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted his own thoughts. “You don’t have to answer that.”

You awkwardly kept your eyes on the crumbs now scattered around your plate. If only he knew, and if only you could tell him.

“If you keep doing that you’ll hardly have any left.” He smoothly took the pastry from your hands and bit into it. “Hmm, it’s delicious.”

Letting out a small laugh you straighten your posture, “You’ve got a little filling on you.”

“Oh?” He sat it back on your plate, “Could you get it for me?”

You nodded, sitting on the edge of your chair to get closer. Slowly, you reached across and lightly wiped the filling off with your thumb. Timmy’s smile never seemed to fade away. He was always so warm and gentle, even in the toad video from two in the morning. It was like with him any moment could be put on pause to just sit back and admire it for what it was. With him it was like you could breathe. Like, even if it was temporary, the air around him wasn’t so stuffy and thick, but it was clear.

Your hand seemed to linger, not that he minded. He simply took your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to your palm before resting both of your hands on the table. His thumb faintly skimmed over your knuckles as he watched the wheels turning your head.

He tilted his head slightly, “Something on your mind?”

“I always have something on my mind, you know.” You timidly pulled your hand away to put your phone back in your bag, “We should probably get going so we can beat the rain.”

Tim cleared his throat and began gathering his things. “I wouldn’t mind getting stuck in it, sometimes the rain is nice to just step into.”

His words brought another tender smile to your face. Most people would be canceling the day’s plans because of a chance of rain later that evening, Timmy just pushed through and even hoped the rain may come earlier than planned. You liked the rain too and didn’t mind going out in it from time to time, it was relaxing in ways.

“I’d rather be home when it starts, I think.” You held his hand as you both started your way home.

He nodded, “I can understand that. But, would it be so bad if it started before then? It would be like a movie scene.”

The thought made you grin, he was right. One of the biggest clichés in the book and you nearly forgot. Part of you longed for a movie moment like that, you had them all the time with Timmy though. It was nice, you wouldn’t lie. At the same time, a huge part of you just wanted to smoothly make it home, no movie moment.

“I guess that part of it would be sweet. Almost like a frozen moment in time.” You moved closer to him, “I’d take any chance to be frozen in time with you.”

His lips curled into a smile at your cheesy words before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Maybe we’ll get the chance again.”

“Hmm, I wish. I’m not exactly dressed for a downpour though, especially not with my camera out,” you held it up.

Timmy took a quick glance, you were right. Your sneakers would be soaked within moments and your jacket wouldn’t keep you warm for long. Timmy wasn’t dressed much better though, having on sneakers as well, and jeans that would easily stick to him when wet. He could stand it though, it wasn’t a bother, and he would gladly help to keep you warm with his own body heat.

He recalled that you loved walks in the rain, no matter how soaking wet you may get. But lately something was off, he could tell. He kept brushing it off, chalking it up to overthinking. Of course you didn’t want to get caught in the rain that day, it would be freezing and your camera could get ruined. Normally, though, you still wouldn’t mind. It was like you were running from something.

“We can put the camera in your purse, it should help keep it dry. As for the rest, well,” he let your hand go before wrapping an arm around your waist, “I’ll help keep you warm as we make our way home.”

You chuckled, leaning into his side. “In that case, I look forward to the rain,” you half joked.

“See?” He smiled, “Simple solutions. I’m glad to be of assistance.”

Once again, he let go of you to give a dramatic bow. You laughed, watching as his hair fell in front of his face. He even tucked one foot behind the other, adding to the drama of it. He did what he could to make the relationship feel the same, to help you find the beauty in small moments like that again rather than pain.

“Ah, thank you for your kindness,” you gently bowed back towards him.

“Of course, of course. Anytime, you know.” He took your hand in his, gently swinging it as you continued the walk.

You walked in silence for a few moments, just taking in the busy sounds from around you. There were fewer people out that day, due to the expected rain, which gave plenty of new picture opportunities. You loved pictures full of life, whether it was crowds of people or a field of flowers. But, you loved pictures that seemed empty, or even more serene in a way, too. Overall, you just enjoyed taking pictures of life. From the most crazy and crowded moments to the most calm and seemingly boring moments.

“Let’s get a picture here really quick?” You stopped at a shop window, gently tugging Timmy’s sleeve to get his attention.

He stepped back and stood beside you, “Of course, it’s a nice opportunity.”

You held the camera up, ready for the picture. Timmy put one hand in his pocket, the other rested on the small of your back. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, freezing there for a moment as you took the picture. Instinctively his eyes shut too, allowing him to easily slip into his thoughts for a moment.

He loved that you took pictures of moments like this, he knew it meant a lot to you. To be able to hold a memory in such a way was incredible and it helped to better remember. It wasn’t just a picture, it was a memory. Even if it was only a memory of going for tea that morning, it was a memory. One he knew that you’d both find yourselves dwelling on.

You both seemed to find such pleasure in the smallest of things. The rain, tea, toads, anything. Unlike Tom, who seemed to have to make everything into some huge attention grabber for it to be even slightly memorable. Timmy couldn’t stand that, it was like it was a show for everyone else. Timmy didn’t need to prove to anyone that he loved you with grand schemes, what mattered to him was the little things that you shared between the two of you.

“Alright, got it,” you smiled.

His eyes opened back up, snapping himself out of his mind. “You’ve gotten a lot of good pictures today.”

“With most of them having you as the subject, I’d agree,” you grinned up at him.

“It’s your talent with photography that makes them so good,” he chuckled.

“Maybe, but you definitely add to it’s perfection.” You kissed his cheek, “Even if I know you cried about a frog at two in the morning.”

“A toad,” he corrected. “And what kind of monster wouldn’t cry about a toad at two in the morning?”

“It’s just a toad,” you began walking again with a small smile on your lips.

“Just a toad?” He joined your side again, “I don’t think so! He was special, not just like any other toad.”

You teased, “You’re actually defending a toad?”

“Maybe I am. You were attacking him.” He played along, lightly nudging your shoulder.

Your hands went into the air in a mock defense, “My greatest apologies for attacking him. I hope I didn’t offend too greatly?”

“Hmm,” he raised a brow and stroked his chin as if he was deeply thinking. “No, nothing you can’t make up for.”

“Make up for? In what way?” You were already grinning as you looked up at him.

His arm made its way back around your waist, his fingers landing on your hip. Your pace slowed a bit, only slightly, as you synced your steps.

“Dance with me when it rains,” he said simply. “It would make up for it a thousand times over.”

You chuckled, “I’d dance with you anytime, Tim.”

He inhaled, holding his breath for a moment before saying, “I know, but I’ll take every chance I get.”

“I would too, plus it’s a simple enough way to pay you back for the frog insult.”

“Toad.”

“Right,” you laughed, “toad.”

He hoped it would rain. Before he simply looked forward to the rain because he was expecting it anyway, now he was waiting for the rain as if he relied on it. He needed the chance to be with you closer, longer. He needed a reason for the day to be memorable for more than just tea. Timmy knew you’d adore that day for the rest of time, even if it ended in this very moment, but it was like he needed to be sure of it.

Lord, he was becoming Tom. Couldn’t the day be lovable enough as it was? It already was. There wasn’t a moment through the day with you where he didn’t seem to have butterflies in his stomach, other than moments like this where he couldn't help but think of Tom.

No. No more Tom. Timmy was still far from Tom. His gestures, like wanting to dance in the rain, was for just the two of you, not anyone else. Tom needed everyone else’s approval, Timmy was only focused about the happiness between the two of you.

“Guess you should get ready to dance,” you spoke up, quickly tucking your camera into your purse.

Timmy glanced at your movements before looking up to the sky, seeing how dark it had suddenly gotten. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw the rain approaching.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he held both of your hands and pulled you to a wider section of sidewalk.

He wasted no time, beginning to dance with you the moment a raindrop fell. You wouldn’t deny it, even though you were previously dreading the coming rain you were happy it was there now. You had forgotten how much you missed it. You missed that moment in time where it was truly like nothing else mattered. It was just you and Timmy, frozen in your own movie moment.

It was clear that the wheels in his head were finally taking a pause, he too was just enjoying that moment. Normally, Timmy wasn’t one to get lost in his thoughts so frequently. He spoke openly, sharing his thoughts so he could talk through them with someone. You understood, even admired it, but there was a part of you that wanted to hold certain things to yourself. There were some things you wanted to process on your own before even thinking about sharing with anyone else, and there were other things that you just wanted to ignore forever. Timmy knew this and he never wanted to make you feel pressured to talk but he just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to share, to just talk through your pain and memories. But, he respected it.

You wanted to share, truly, but you weren’t even sure where to begin, and, you didn’t even know if you actually could bring yourself to talk. Timmy swore that there were things between you and Tom that were unsettled that you needed to talk about, and maybe he was right, but you couldn’t see it. You felt like you were stuck in a spot that had no way out. It felt like you had no words to share, and, while no one was trying to make you feel that way, you felt pressured to talk. It felt like Timmy deserved more. Like he should have an explanation, like he should get to know his moment, the one where you knew you loved him.

You had no answers to offer anyone though, not even yourself. You didn’t know why people were expecting you to explain so much. Why did people need you to explain why you never liked Tom? Why it didn’t matter if Tom ever liked you or still did-- though you would assure people he didn’t-- because you were over him. Or were you even over that?

Tom was cruel. He was careless, inconsiderate. And, sure, you had a crush on him for a while, but that’s all it was. That’s all it could be. He hurt you, how could you possibly still like him? And, you loved Timmy so none of that even mattered anymore.

Timmy.

You knew you loved him, with or without that defining moment. Maybe this could be it. The rain, his fingers intertwined with yours as you danced and laughed. No, this wasn’t it. It couldn’t be, not when you had let your mind wander so far. So much for staying frozen in the moment.

Still, you danced with him and acted as if you were still focused on only that. His mind may have stopped for a break but it seemed yours had just kept going. He noticed, you were like an open book at times with him. But, you were both deciding to push it aside.

“When was the last time we even got to do this?” You laughed as he dramatically spun you.

He smiled, “Too long, I guess we’ve just been waiting for the rain.”

“I’m glad it’s finally here, even if I’m freezing cold.” You waddled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and continuing to sway inplace together.

“Hmm,” he rested his chin atop your head and curled his arms around you, “I did say I’d keep you warm.”

You closed your eyes, resting a cheek on his chest and breathing in. The metallic and earthy smell of him brought an instant peace. You could feel and hear his heart beating slowly, calmly. Heat was somehow radiating off of him still, even through his cold and wet clothing. It was nice, just his presence and being was calming and felt nice to be around. It was now that you were really being pulled into the movie moment, your mind now filled with nothing but thoughts of how being around Timmy was like going out after a storm.

It was like walking out, feeling the sun hit your skin as it was slowly beginning to warm everything up again after a downpour. Like inhaling that musty yet sweet smell of the ground as it was soaking up the rain, reclaiming it after it’s fall and working with it to help return to earth. The smell wasn’t just coming from the rain either, it was just how Timmy was, and you couldn’t get enough of it. It was the serenity after the storm that people so rarely talk about.

“Can’t we stay this way forever?” His words were muffled, mixing with the sounds of raindrops seemingly falling harder.

You were still slightly swaying together, earning looks from those rushing by you in a hurry to escape the rain. Neither of you could be bothered by it though, you were in your own world. Admittedly, it probably wasn’t such a good idea to be staying out in the cold rain. The two of you couldn’t care less in the moment, though you’d probably regret it later, because it was like you had only been standing there for a minute, but at the same time it was as if it had been an hour even if it was only about ten minutes.

The rain was coming down harder and harder, preventing you from being able to stay out much longer.

“I think it’s time to stop dancing,” you smiled, looking around for any form of shelter you could find. “Look, that shop has a shade we can use.”

Without hesitation you ran off, ready to get out of the downpour. You hadn’t noticed at first but he hadn’t followed, only a few steps away from where you were both standing just a second before. He was slowly making his way over, not seeming too focused on actually making it though.

“Timmy,” you called out, “what’re you doing? C’mon, it’s too heavy.”

And then you heard, music playing from someone’s balcony. It was gentle and steady, sounding almost like a recording but it was clear that it wasn’t. Timmy’s eyes were locked onto that balcony, right above the shop you were using for coverage. His shoulders were relaxed, his head slightly tilted as he listened. He was too focused on the music to care about how hard the rain was or how cool the air was turning. You were focused on watching him, slightly taken aback by his actions.

“Come see,” he beamed, “it’s so peaceful.”

You were grinning, watching as he smiled ear to ear, being so happy watching them. His gaze went back to them, eyes twinkling in the light shining from their apartment. His curls were dripping, messily scattered about and some sticking to his face. He looked like he was in a state of tranquility, completely free of all the worries he had been dealing with. It was soothing enough on its own just to see him so, it was like he was able to share with you how it made him feel simply through one look.

Taking your camera out, you took a picture of him as he looked up to the balcony, wanting to keep that moment with you forever because that was it. A few weeks ago when Timmy had asked you when you fell in love with him you gave some silly response, too anxious to think about it. He brought it up again earlier that day, and you still couldn’t give an answer. Now the answer was standing right infront of you, finally it was something worthy of sharing, not just something random and laughable.

You put the camera back in your back, quickly joining his side. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Doesn’t it?” He leaned into your shoulder, “The rain just adds to it all.”

“It does,” you agreed, wrapping around his arm. “But, we should go before we get sick.”

Timmy laughed as he slowly pulled himself out of his trance, “That sounds like a good idea.”

With looped arms you began your walk home once more, feeling somewhat more lifted by what had happened. All it took was that one moment, that moment of proof and reassurance. You were reminded of what a kind and gentle person Timmy was, not that you had ever forgotten. He did his best to enjoy life for what it was, cherishing every moment he could no matter how small. You tried your best to do the same but found yourself slipping at times, it was a reminder to enjoy things more. To take that step back and make yourself the main character of a story, even if it was temporary. Timmy helped you to do that.

He loved to see you so relaxed again, free from your mind. You were both too wrapped up in too many what-ifs and were worrying about things that were out of your control. The rain was what you needed, to help pull you back to earth. It was that moment, where he was able to put life on pause and you were able to come back into that serenity.

The awkward tension from the cafe was gone, truly gone, not just shoved aside. Timmy wasn’t craving to know the exact moment you knew you loved him because all that mattered to him was that you did. You didn’t feel like you owe anyone an explanation for anything anymore, whatever you had with Tom was in the past now and you knew Timmy’s moment. It really wasn’t a permanent solution, these feelings, at least the untouched one’s about Tom, would likely arise again. But, at least for that moment, you could go without confronting them.

#perfidy #timothee chalamet #tom holland #timothee x y/n #timothee chalamet x reader #perfidy inspired #my writing #timotheé chalamet #timotheé chalamet x reader #timmy chalamet #timmy chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timotheé chalamet x you

355 notes · View notes

mercy-thompson-fanfiction · 3 years

Text

OUTTAKES 3

This one bugs me because I swear I posted it, but I didn’t? TW: talk of miscarriage. I hate that word, but let’s not get into semantics. Just know there’s a trigger warning.

“Don’t say anything.” The Marrok warned. Leah and Porsche got along surprisingly well…about forty-percent of the time. It was higher than he would have expected, given who she was and the fact that Leah had really first spoken to her when she was in the middle of her teen angst phase.

So, right now.

Mercy’s daughter had come to stay for the foreseeable future. In the long-term, she’d likely be staying with Anna and Charles, but all of his grandchildren had a place in his home. Right now, that’s just where she’d chosen to stay.

The little fiery blur of almost-black hair had just slammed the door behind her as she entered and stormed straight down the far hall to her room. He couldn’t really blame her, the change in scenery and the reasons behind it were less than ideal.

Instead of waiting for Leah to make a remark in response, he left the room. Bran could navigate the worse of what a werewolf had to offer, but teenage girls were far tougher than they appeared. “Sugar, spice, and everything nice" would sooner be an ingredient list for things that go bump in the night than it would the nightmare that was female puberty.

“Porsche, open the door.” He heard the lock click closed instead. “Porsche, right now.”

“Porsche, right now.” He heard her mock from the other side. This was exactly why she was here. Porsche Hauptman was uncontrollable in more ways than one and it had become borderline dangerous, what with the may her mother attracted all the wrong things.

“Portia—“ “That’s not my name.” Her voice rose angrily.

“I own this house. I have a key.” The tone was final, unforgiving and, fortunately, she at least knew when she’d lost. The lock clicked again and Bran only gave her a few moments of peace to make it away from the door before he entered.

Porsche glared at him, another problem they’d been having. Bran personally suspected it had to do with her lineage, the reason she had to basically be taught her whole life to look away. It was just that she maybe had a little more fire in her than even Mercy did. She wasn’t scared enough to back down.

And she’d already gotten in trouble for it.

The nice thing about Aspen Creek, you couldn’t get away with that anymore. It was absolutely dire that she navigate a pack the way she was meant to, else she’d be in worse trouble. Adam’s pack was less dangerous, less volatile, and they’d babied her too much. Adam had protected her from too much, and it had given her less need to be careful.

“What happened?” Bran asked calmly.

“I broke the ledge on the whiteboard.” Oh, this was about school drama. Wonderful. The teenage social life.

It was news to him that she’d broken anything, but maybe someone had fielded the call—probably Leah actually, she had a way of doing that and honestly she was more likely to protect Porsche than maybe he would like to admit.

He waited for her to continue.

“Someone told me I was a freak—“

“Who?” Bran pressed. To his knowledge, her cousins weren’t being bullied and one of them was also a werewolf.

“You think I care to know anyone’s name here?” She spat out at him. “I’m not staying.”

“You are.” He said very plainly.

Porsche’s eyes narrowed at him, though both had become decidedly lighter. Unlike a real coyote, it seemed coy-wolves in the terms of shapeshifters and werewolves weren’t very normal looking. It left Porsche’s wolf with strange pigmentation and one blue eye—something that didn’t even remotely match her human skin.

This potential lack of control was the reason Adam had initially to send her to Montana, but at least Mercy had seen it for what it was and soon after her husband had, too. It wasn’t lack of control.

It was too much and Porsche had no fear of threatening the Marrok.

A decided problem.

“Believe it or not, I’m on your side.” He said cooly. “And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can go home.”

“Nicole.”

“Thank you.” He’d have a phone call with the school about it, if Leah hadn’t already sorted it.

Porsche didn’t respond, just sat there waiting for him to leave her to mope. She was so melodramatic these days, he wanted to laugh.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Don’t care. I have homework. I need to be alone.” She still made no effort to move towards her backpack to support her story.

He’d stop pushing. No one had made him gain their respect in a long time, not in the way a teenager did. Bran smiled in amusement when he did finally leave. Porsche loved him, he didn’t doubt it, and deep down she loved her family, too. She was just angry at the situation and one day she would realize why it came to be.

~~~

“You’re telling me that you talked back to the Marrok and lived?” Ben snorted. Porsche had just gotten finished telling her side of some silly story from her time in Aspen Creek while they sorted through newly gifted onesies to put away in drawers.

She nodded, a hint of a smile on her face.

“She was a menace.” Bran agreed, sitting across from them in a comfortable armchair. Fallon had thrown a baby shower and invited absolutely everyone, despite Porsche never having done the same for her. “But harmless, she would never have acted on it. She was never angry with me.” “Are you saying that you hope the baby is a girl so that you can watch me suffer in all the same ways you did?” Porsche teased, but despite all the grand story telling and the warmth of the atmosphere, Ben would see the tension in her posture.

The stress wasn’t healthy for her or the baby, and she was well aware. He knew, deep down, it was just her expressing her anxiety about miscarrying again. It’d already happened and both times she’d been distraught, despite the fact they really hadn’t been actively trying. It had gotten to the point where Ben had suggested birth control—just to keep it from hurting her again.

“They say karma is—“

“A bitch. I had you, after all.” Her mom joked with a grin on her face.

#mercy thompson fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

heyimviri · 3 years

Text

Track 16. Irrational

“Love is Exciting”

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING IN A/N⚠️: MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE

a/n: I’m not even gonna make an excuse this time, I was supposed to finish writing this 4 - 5 days ago, & I was honestly just putting off writing at every chance I got & I had a bit of a bad week. I had some nasty thoughs & even attempted offing myself. Then I also had some arguments with my dad about some stuff he’s done to hurt me, while also trying to help one of my closest friends stop harming themself. I don’t mean to vent, or to make anyone have sympathy for me, and I really do want to finish this series and continue writing for all of you. Thank you guys so much for not getting upset with the fact that I’m so inactive sometimes & thank you for supporting the series. Let me know what I should write next! Anyway, I know you’ve been waiting, so here’s the long awaited chapter 16. I’m going to try to write chap. 17 withing the next week. Also, slight manga spoilers?

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

“Y/N, baby, our brunch reservation is scheduled for 10:30. Could you please get out of bed now?” Yamagucci’s sweet tone was muffled by your door and the pillow over your head.

It had been two days since everyone went out all at once and right after, everyone’s schedule went back to normal. Everyone except for Akaashi. You had asked him if he wanted to go out yesterday, but he told you that he was going to be busy with work for the next few days, leaving you all by your lonesome. So, as mature as you held yourself to be, your childishness got the best of you and you flat out refused to go anywhere.

“Y/N, if you don’t get up, I’ll break your door down again. You have an twenty-five minutes to shower and you need to, because you smell like manure.”

“Tsukki! That’s so mean!”

“It’s true.”

“KAGEYAMA!”

The silence from your room broke Tsukishima’s calm demeanor once again and the one thing that finally got you up was the sound of wood & metal hitting your carpet. Scrambling out of your taco blanket, you rolled out onto the floor, landing next to your broken door.

“Dude... that was literally just fixed like... a month ago.” You dragged out a groan as Hinata began pulling you out of your room towards the bathroom.

“Y/N, sometimes you remind me of Bōkutō, you know that?” With his look of smug innocence, Hinata left you on the floor with one thought, and one thought only.

“HEY, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!”

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

“And they live.” A snarky remark left Kei’s mouth as soon as he found you dressed and ready outside of your room.

“Oh please, Kei. You can take your healthy, official relationship and go elsewhere.” You slumped into the couch, huffing and puffing while he stared at you in amusement.

“For someone who’s so built on independence and maturity, you sure do get all hung up over this boy. Not to mention it’s only because he has a life that you aren’t necessarily a part of yet.” Throwing his arm around your shoulder and sitting next to you, Tsukishima poked fun at your little act.

He knew you weren’t one to act this way and that you were purposely being dramatic, so he wasn’t upset or annoyed at it the way he used to be. Now he just finds it funny and wonders why you kept this melodramatic habit of yours.

“Let’s go, you parasite. We’re gonna be late if we don’t catch a taxi in the next five to ten minutes.” He tugged you up by your arm, while all five of you linked arms and somehow made it out the door. Lucky for all of you, a taxi was just down the street. Getting in, you all squished in the car and you sat on Kageyama’s lap, so you’d all fit in easier.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Once you guys got into the breakfast place, it felt like you forgot everything else in your life except for the food in front of you & the friends you had surrounding you. Out of habit, you snapped a picture of you food, posted it on Twitter, and got lost in the messages between you and Akaashi.

After Tsukishima pulled you away from your mindless scrolling, you guys conversed about your upcoming work schedule. Though the mood took a darastic turn when the topic of moving rolled around. It took your thoughts a while to catch up to the conversation, but when they finally did, the words came out of your mouth faster than you expected them to.

“Wait- Tadashi, you’re planning to move?!”

“Well...before we tried waking you up, we all agreed that it feels like the apartment is getting too small to have all of us living there. Tsukki and I were talking about moving and it just so happened that Hinata & Kags had the same idea. Plus, Tsukki, Hinata, and Kags are volleyball pros; so now that the scheduals are back up, they’re all going to start playing oversea games again, so no matter what, you’d still be mostly on your own.” He smiled at you sheepishly, averting his eyes and avoiding your gaze.

You glanced around the table, and it seemed like all of them had the same solem look on their faces. You always knew that you couldn’t all stay in the same apartment, moving on with your lives was something you had to do, but you didn’t expect to happen only after two years.

“I know you would have wanted to be in on the conversation, but it was just an ‘in the moment’ thing.” You knew Shōyō trying to make you feel better, but the comment only made you feel worse.

The table was silent and your stomach started to hurt. You couldn’t quite grasp why it was affecting you so harshly, it wasn’t like it wasn’t that big a deal. You guys weren’t losing contact, you weren’t going to stop being friends, you weren’t fighting, there was really nothing wrong, but it just hurt you.

“It’s okay...you don’t need to try to make me feel better. The feelings will pass before you know it. We can all browse the home catalogs together, and when the time comes, we can all pack together.” You gave them a smile from your happy facade, and though they knew it was fake, they all took it as it was, not wanting to push any further.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Three hours past faster than any of you expected it to, though the last thirty-minutes felt like eons. The drive home was as quiet as the table had been earlier. All of you held hands while walking the rest of the ten minutes home. it felt like someone had just died, but it felt silly to you, knowing that not much was really changing. They weren’t even leaving until next year. They would still be here until Christmas. They would still be here for New Years. They would still be here for Valentines day. They would be here at least until spring, so why did it feel like your world just ended?

You couldn’t shake your negative thoughts, even when you all entered your shared apartment. You kept scanning the room for each one of them, feeling like they would disappear if you took your eyes off them for too long. You knew you were attached to the point where it was unhealthy, but you didn’t know how not to be. Even if you had met all of them is highschool, it felt like you had known these people your whole life, and they were a part of your family. Family had been around for so long.

“Y/N...” Tadashi’s voice broke through the silence that filled your home. “Why don’t you and I watch a movie together or something? I want to spend time with you until you feel better, and if anyone else wants to join, they can.”

You tried to give him a happy espression, but your gloom flooded through your smile. So you lost your smile and just nodded instead. He nodded back and went off to the kitchen to make some popcorn and other snacks, leaving you to pick a movie on the app or site of your choosing.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Everyone ended up gathering on the couch to watch the movie, having nothing better to do, but you ended up falling asleep in Tsukishima’s lap halfway through the movie, allowing everyone to check the group chat without any suspicion.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

Track 15. | Track 17.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @officiallykuute @winunk @sayakaaaaaa @simplesammyx @anngelllla @elianetsantana @peteunderoos @tamaguchi-blog @sugawaterinyacup-blog

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#akaashi keiji #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #akaashi smau #akaashi x y/n #hq!! akaashi #hq!! fic #hq fics #haikyuu fic

18 notes · View notes

ablogthatishenceforthmine · 4 years

Text

The 100 7x10 Thoughts

- Sanctum storyline still not working. Just about everything in it was a wash. I just am so bored by Sheidheda as a villian. And it relies on characters just acting so stupid. Indra was stupid in how she dealt with him in 7x09, and she was stupid here again, challenging him to a fight. Madi was kinda stupid in not going for the kill.

- And don’t get me started on how utterly stupid the grounders are. I think there could be a point here in how people get stuck in their traditions and ways that they are able to sacrifice anything to keep them. And this was a society built on violence and a dictatorship. And I could see the show making a commentary on how difficult real, structural societal change is when the society is built on such a rotten foundation. But maybe they are not, and the only point of the grounder’s utter lack of braincells is to make the plot work. I just don’t give a fuck about the grounders, bc over and over again they have proved themselves to be mindless sheep. They are no different than the bardonians.

- I do like seeing Emori and Murphy be heroic, but it’s not enough to carry the storyline.

- I HATED miller’s line, replacing “fuck” for “flock.” It was just silly, and not something i could see Miller, of all people saying

- Soo, Echo was playing the Bardonians... Sigh. Disappointed but not surprised. It would have been a wayyyy more interesting choice to have her actually believe in the cause. This revenge thing... is just boring, and we’ve seen this storyline one too many times before. The grounders wanted revenge on Finn. Bellamy getting revenge on the grounders in season 3. Octavia killing Pike in revenge. Clarke considering killing Lexa in revenge in Season 3. Bellamy planning to and then deciding not to take revenge for Clarke (not really) murder. It is just nothing new or interesting to the show with this storyline. What would have been new was one of our main characters, one of our heroes, being won over by the villian and their cause... I guess we have character’s following Alie in season 3, but this would have been purely being psychologically won over and brainwashed, rather than done by controlling technology. It could have been such an interesting exploration of Echo’s character...instead we get this. And it is just kinda meh. And i’ve been really liking Echo’s character in previous episodes of this season, so it’s really disappointing for them to mess it up now. I also do not think that the actress who plays Echo has the skills to sell these moments like when she’s debating whether or not to commit genocide this episode, or when she found out Bellamy was killed in a prior episode. These moments are supposed to come off as heartbreaking, but in part because of the actor’s performance, they can across as over the top and melodramatic.

- Also didn’t like Hope’s character this episode, and her actions seem more plot-driven than character-driven. Although i do like that Diyoza’s dying wish is for Hope to do better and to not become like Diyoza herself.

- Clarke really needs to start doing things now. She has become such a boring and plot-oriented character this season

- I may be alone in this, but I did not like the Miller and Octavia hug. It just didn’t feel like it was earned. Miller justifiably had a lot of anger at Octavia last season, and they show didn’t develop that going away. Sure, we saw Octavia’s growth and redemption, but Miller didn’t. Miller has no reason to forgive or like Octavia. It just felt so forced, and like the plot needed them to get along, and wanted to get a cheap sweet moment. Like, Miller isn’t a well written and developed character, but this felt particularly underdeveloped.

- The best scene in the episode was the one between Gabriel and Bill. It was a nice philosophical debate about the best way to be and live. Each character’s viewpoints felt like it was grounded in already-established character traits and history. And it was nice to see Gabriel reflect on his past, and he seems to at least understand Bill’s point of view, even if he doesn’t agree with it. This scene shows why Bill, in only the short amount of time we’ve seen him, works so well as an antagonist, while Sheidheda doesn’t. Bill has beliefs, values, and a point of view, while Sheidheda has none of these. While I don’t agree with Bill, I feel like i understand him, and i don’t think his point of view is totally unreasonable or lacking in logic

- So Raven was the one to talk Echo out of genocide. I just... I get it, but it doesn’t work. Like, i get that Raven and Echo spent 6 years in space together and care about each other, but they’ve barely had any scenes, let alone significant scenes, together. It’s the classic problem of telling rather than showing. We haven’t seen much of Echo and Raven’s relationship, so by making this scene rest so much on their love for each other, it just falls flat. Despite not being in space with Echo, Clarke and Octavia’s relationship with Echo has been more developed than Raven’s relationship with Echo. Echo and Octavia have had some pretty significant scenes together. Echo and Clarke have had some pretty significant scenes together. Echo and Raven haven’t. So, it just feels wrong that Octavia and Clarke can’t talk Echo out of genocide, but that Raven can. LIKE I SAID, i get that Echo and Raven spent 6 years together. But knowing facts about characters doesn’t make you feel things about their relationship

- Also, I don’t think Bellamy would have ever, in any season, wanted anyone to commit genocide to avenge his death. I agree with Season 1-3 Bellamy might have done it himself, like we saw with Gina in season 3a. But there is a difference between being willing to commit genocide to avenge someone’s death and wanting someone to commit genocide to avenge your death. Bellamy, of any season, would never want someone to do that for him. For one thing, his self-worth is too low! Like Bellamy wouldn’t think his death is worth it. He also wouldn’t want people he cares about to care the burden and guilt of committing genocide.

61 notes · View notes

snowflake-of-destruction · 4 years

Text

Excerpt from a silly KH Pride Month Fic of Sora’s fellow Guardians of Light needing to explain the meaning of the holiday like a Christmas Special I may or may not finish:

The picture was cute; the usual fodder from Sora's trips to Corona, but still cute every time nonetheless. A selfie of Sora and Rapunzel, faces side by side, wearing matching beaming smiles and covered in seemingly random splotches of paint. The caption was a bit odd though. Rainbow Parade Day in Corona! #rainbows #parade.

Rapunzel had told Kairi at length about Corona's festivals, and Kairi didn't remember any Rainbow Parade Day. Though Kairi had to admit she sometimes lost track when her fellow Princess of Heart really got wound up on a subject she was excited about--not purposefully blocking her out, but...well, the older brunette talked so quickly and went off on so many tangents, sometimes it was just better to smile and nod along, trying to lose yourself in the excited twinkle in Rapunzel's eyes and the flowing, enthusiastic gestures of her psuedo-signing hands (and the twist of her lips and tiny flashes of tongue Kairi sometimes couldn't help tracking)rather than follow every word.

She scrolled down to the next picture. There was always a next picture. Sora never posted just one, especially when it came to celebrations or friends he had in common with his other Guardians of Light. Everything his eyes saw he wanted to share with his friends. It was one of his most beautiful qualities in Kairi’s eyes, and today it was going to be useful. The next post showed village square of the capital of Corona, strings of tiny rainbow flags flying between every tall post, and more flags stuck in or hanging off of everything from fruit stands to flower pots to in between slats of random barrels. The next several pictures in fact were different angles of the same thing, though it only took one for Kairi to realize she actually knew exactly what rainbow parade day was, though she would have never guessed it was celebrated in the Kingdom of Corona.

She flicked back up to the first photo. Sora and Rapunzel's messy polka dots both came in yellow, pink, and blue trios. The new context only made the picture even more heartwarming, and Kairi felt the small, fond smile that had settled on her face when she first started looking at Sora's Kingstagram grow even as a voice in her head told her that something wasn't quite right--though it seemed to be part born out of the wounded pride that she hadn't known about Rapunzel when she thought she had a pretty much perfect track record intuiting that type of thing about her friends, many times before they even admitted it to themselves much less publicly.

Rainbow Parade Day. Sweet. Kairi buried a flash of disappointment Sora hadn't invited her, though maybe the timing of the visit was just a coincidence. She hoped there was no deeper meaning than that. She and Sora were still in a slightly odd place. It would smooth itself out in time, and in the meantime it wasn't that awkward, but still, they had been apart for so long that not a moment should be lost now to hesitation and worry about how they were supposed to interact. There would always be love there, even if it had evolved and changed.

Speaking of love being love...She resumed scanning Sora’s Kingstagram until a comment from Donald on a shot of Rapunzel holding up a large wreath made of paper flowers of every shade and pouting at Maximus who looked about as affronted as a horse could made her pause. Sora's caption had been. "Someone tell Max that just this once being a cart horse is a noble job #RainbowParade #you should see our float." Donald's comment was "World order!!!" So, reading between the lines, Sora had brought "Rainbow Parade Day" as a new tradition for Corona, and, in true Sora fashion, he had told Donald his intentions before he went. Kairi wondered idly why, if the festival was Sora's idea brought from another world, he hadn't used the name Pride. She was trying to figure out how to phrase the question and work in a multi-layered wordplay about how she had always thought if anything Sora had a problem with too much Pride, not a lack of Pride...when she read past the first line or two of Sora's continuation of the thread and it shorted out every other thought in her head. "I'm not going to compromise world order.Rapunzel and I acted like Rainbow Parade Day was our idea. I'm not running around telling everyone I've seen them on other planets. Duh. Every world should celebrate colors. Rainbows are cool. #rainbows #color palettes #artists celebrating color"

Sora thought Pride was a celebration of rainbows and color palettes.

Trying to fathom what experience he could have had with Pride to leave him with that impression required Kairi setting her gummiphone down and staring at the wall of her living room for several minutes.

"Riku," Kairi yelled into the next room, voice echoing back perhaps a bit more melodramatically shaken than she had meant. "We have a situation."

#kingdom hearts #sora #kairi #rapunzel #fanfiction #snippets

3 notes · View notes

the-desolated-quill · 4 years

Text

Two Riders Were Approaching... - Watchmen blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. if you haven’t read this comic yet, you may want to before reading this review)

As we hurtle head long into the third act, Two Riders Were Approaching provides a story that comes the closest to a more quote/unquote ‘traditional’ comic book narrative. With nuclear tensions rising and World War Three imminent, Daniel and Rorschach must work together to deduce the identity of the ‘mask killer’ before it’s too late.

At the core of the issue is Dan and Rorschach’s relationship. Their partnership is something that has been talked about throughout the graphic novel, but this is the first time we actually get to see Nite Owl and Rorschach in action, and it’s legitimately fascinating to observe.

When I first read the graphic novel, one question kept bugging me throughout. Why the hell would Nite Owl want to work with someone like Rorschach? A violent, bigoted, right wing conspiracy nut. It can’t just be a marriage of convenience because Dan does express genuine affection toward Rorschach numerous times throughout Watchmen. Of course I was much younger at the time, so I didn’t understand all the nuances until now. See, what Alan Moore does such a good job with regarding the Nite Owl/Rorschach dynamic is using them to illustrate the flaws and dangers of centrist politics.

Now before I go any further, I just want to clarify one thing. I’m not necessarily saying there’s anything wrong with holding a centrist view. I myself identify as a centrist, albeit slightly left leaning. However there is always a risk when it comes to taking a centrist stance of becoming so neutral to the point of being complicit, maintaining the status quo even when it serves as a detriment to others because they don’t want to take sides. I can understand wanting to come across as fair and balanced, but fair and balanced doesn’t necessarily mean both sides of a debate have equal weight. There are some topics where there is no neutral stance you can possibly take. Do women deserve the vote? Should black people have rights as white people? Should gay people be allowed to get married? There’s only one correct answer to those questions. Trying to take a centrist view here wouldn’t be fair and balanced. It would be perpetuating a harmful system of discrimination and inequality. Both sides of an argument aren’t always equally valid. And yet, especially recently, we’re seeing a growing number of (usually white) centrists trying to take a neutral position from a moral or political standpoint. We’ve all seen those cringeworthy pictures of people posing with their Trump supporting friends wearing a MAGA cap, saying how politics shouldn’t affect a strong friendship. Donald Trump is a racist twat, and while not all Trump supporters are necessarily racist twats, they are complicit in his racist twattery, as are the people who claim to be liberal and yet still hang out with those guys, wringing their hands and asking why can’t everyone just get along.

In my opinion Nite Owl serves as the pinnacle of extreme centrism. He may not be as right wing as Rorschach, but he is complicit when it comes to his extreme methods and views because they’re superheroes and what they’re doing is for the supposed greater good. The scene in the bar hammers this point home very effectively. Rorschach of course used similar violent means of interrogation back in the first issue and you’d think now that Nite Owl is with him that he’d show a bit more restraint, but no. Rorschach is still just as violent as he was before and Nite Owl doesn’t stop him or resist in anyway, instead reassuring everyone around them that they’ll try and keep their interrogation brief. In fact it’s Rorschach that ends up restraining Nite Owl when he finds out about Hollis Mason’s murder and threatens to kill one of the Knot Tops.

Ah yes. Rorschach. Now he is the most interesting part of this issue for me. Presented as being sociopathic and intolerant throughout the entire novel, here we start to see another side to him. There’s obviously the moment I just mentioned where he stops Dan from committing murder, but there are other moments too. Near the beginning of the issue, we see the two of them going to Rorschach’s residence to pick up his spare uniform and journal (which is very bloody convenient, isn’t it? The spare uniform I could believe, but a spare journal too? He just happens to have a spare journal lying around in case he lost the other one. When does he have the time to copy his notes wholesale just in case he misplaces one copy? Doesn’t the guy sleep?) and they encounter Walter’s landlady who had been spreading misinformation accusing him of trying to sexually assault her. Rorschach, understandably, takes issue with this and starts to berate her, calling her a whore. She begs him not to say that in front of her kids because ‘they don’t know.’ The implication being they all have different fathers. At which point, in a rare moment of pity, Rorschach leaves her be. There’s clearly a strong parallel between his landlady and his mother and the reason he drops the argument is because he see’s one of her young boys crying in fear, which seems to remind him of his own unhappy childhood. He’s never going to be considered a good person any time soon, but considering the vile and atrocious things he’s done in past issues, this moment feels significant.

Another significant moment is in the Owlship with Dan. With the police hunting them, the two have to lay low for a while before continuing their investigations into the ‘mask killer,’ which leads to a lot of stress and arguing. Dan finally snaps and shouts at Rorschach, chastising him for his behaviour. You think you know what’s going to happen because we’ve become so familiar with the characters’ MO, but Rorschach surprises us yet again by instead apologising and shaking Dan’s hand, calling him a good friend.

This is why Rorschach is such a great character and why Watchmen is such a great book. This small, but touching moment adds some real humanity to his character. As horrid and extreme as he is, you can’t help but feel slightly sorry for Rorschach as you realise that throughout the story, his attempts to reach out to Dan have been in an effort to win back the trust of his best and only friend. It’s a tiny detail, but it helps elevate the character to something more three dimensional as opposed to just being a conservative strawman.

But now of course, it’s time for the big reveal. Turns out the ‘mask killer’ was Adrian Veidt, aka Ozymandias the whole time. I’m going to talk more about his character in the next issue, which focuses very heavily on him. For now I’ll just say that it’s a good twist that was expertly built up throughout the course of the graphic novel, however I do feel that Alan Moore fumbled it a bit toward the end. While Nite Owl is trying to break into Adrian’s computer, Rorschach delivers this very clunky monologue about Egyptian beliefs and practices, which ends up giving the game away too early. The reason why the reveal works is because Adrian has been used sparingly throughout the story. We know that his superhero alter ego has an Egyptian theme, but this is a background detail that doesn’t really register until now. It sounds silly to say, but at no point did I ever suspect that the mastermind behind ‘Pyramid Transnational’ (the company behind many of the suspicious goings on in Watchmen, along with Dimensional Developments) was the Egyptian themed superhero. But that’s because we’ve only been exposed to Ozymandias every now and then, just enough to keep him in the back of our minds, but not so often that it gives the game away. It’s a masterstroke, if you think about it. However, thanks to Rorschach’s clunky monologue, the reveal becomes really forced rather than having everything falling into place naturally. There’s no moment where the reader goes ‘oh duh! of course it’s Adrian!’ because the reveal is being telegraphed way too heavily. It’s a serious misstep in my view and I wish Moore trusted the reader a bit more rather than having to explain everything in a giant infodump.

However what I especially love about all this is how intentionally ridiculous it all is. We see Nite Owl and Rorschach talking and acting in a very melodramatic fashion. Someone is killing off superheroes in order to try and start World War Three and only they can save the day! Tra la laaaa! It’s once again all about the fantasy of power, until they learn that Ozymandias, one of their own, is the true villain, at which point the fantasy is broken and things get a lot more complicated from here on out. Not that it wasn’t complicated before, but this is the first time the characters themselves acknowledge it’s complicated, which again says a lot about them and their fantasies. Anyone less than a superhero is easy to deal with, but a superhero betraying them? Now that’s more serious.

Before his falling out with DC, Alan Moore had expressed interest in doing a Watchmen prequel about the Minutemen, which I would love to see. But after reading Two Riders Were Approaching, I would also love to see a prequel series about Rorschach and Nite Owl’s partnership in the sixties. It’s clear that we’ve only really scratched the surface of these characters as here we are, ten issues in, and there’s still so much to unpack and learn about them. It would have been nice to have seen them in their element and how it fell apart. We’ll probably never get to see it sadly (yes I know Before Watchmen exists. I’m talking about Alan Moore coming back to Watchmen), but at least this issue gives us a tantalising glimpse.

#two riders were approaching #watchmen #alan moore #dave gibbons #dc comics #review #spoilers

15 notes · View notes

bitchwhoreofastorm · 5 years

Note

can you write some Almalexia and Nerevar being pals?

Almalexia was expertly concealed in a bush of Golden Kanet when she happened to, intriguingly, see her husband wander by. What was intriguing about it wasn’t that he wandered by– though Nerevar didn’t have much of an interest in the Mournhold gardens, he was sometimes inclined to stroll through them. No, what was intriguing about this was that he was looking about himself anxiously, as if waiting for someone else to appear, someone he wasn’t meant to be seeing. So surreptitious about this mysterious rendezvous did he seem that Almalexia, merciful as always, refrained from making herself known to him, and simply focused on her task of weeding her garden.

‘Mercifully’. Truth is, she was more than curious to see who it was her husband was meeting in such nervous secrecy, and she had never been above some old-fashioned spying.

But the turns of fate were cruel that day, and as the minutes rolled past, nobody appeared to set Nerevar’s apparent fears at ease. Almalexia glanced up from her gardening now and then to see him still pacing beneath a Dorlom-tree in the shade of the towering palace walls, his hands buried in the cloak he’d wrapped around himself, his head swivelling this way and that. Time went on and whoever he had planned to meet evidently failed to appear. Their marriage had trapped them in a woeful intimacy, and so Almalexia knew him well enough to read the emotion in his posture even from a distance: anxiousness soon turned to irritation, his pacing footfalls growing heavy and the flowers near his feet falling to his wrath. But then, when his fury failed to conjure his would-be suitor, his posture turned to slouching despondency. Almalexia, halfway through wrenching a handful of Nirthfly stalks out of her Timsa-Come-By beds, looked up briefly from her work just in time to watch him fall dramatically against the side of the tree. She could just imagine the melodramatic sigh that accompanied that gesture.

It was too much for her sympathetic heart to bear. Dropping her trowel in the dirt, she stood, raised an arm into the air, and shouted: “Husband!”

Nerevar truly must not have seen her, for at the call he actually jumped into the air in alarm. “Almalexia?” he shouted back at her. “Were you spying on me?”

He was already walking over to her, crossing the broad grassy flat that separated the palace from the wide bands of flowers and trees that lined the outer wall. He said something else, or his mouth was moving as such, but the words were plucked away by the same crisp spring breeze that currently threatened to topple the bone-white mohawk standing tall on his head. Almalexia placed both hands on her hips, saying nothing, until he had come up to her and stood on the other side of the Kanet bush that had concealed her just before.

“What were you doing?” Almalexia asked.

“Nothing,” replied Nerevar. “Nothing at all. Were you here this whole time? Wait, were you hiding in the bushes?”

“I was weeding, not hiding.”

“But you were crouching– just down there? Really, Almalexia? That’s so childish.”

“Where, husband, do you think weeds grow from? The sky? Of course I was on the ground! My actions were innocent and explainable,” she narrowed her eyes at him, “Unlike some individuals who have been prowling my gardens of late.”

“So you were spying!”

“What were you doing, Nerevar?”

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Really.”

“Really! I was enjoying the spring breeze and new sunlight, that’s all.” But he wouldn’t look her in the face as he said this, and she caught his eyes once again scan the approach.

Almalexia frowned. “Were you waiting for someone?”

“No!” Nerevar answered too quickly. “No, of course I wasn’t.” To her surprise, then, his voice took on a hint of bitterness. “And even if I was waiting for someone, what would it matter? It would be half an hour since our agreed meeting-time, by now, so clearly they don’t want anything to do with me. There can be nothing duplicitous going on here, because my co-conspirator obviously does not care about me one whit, and has seen it fit to reject me, without even the bravery to say it to my face! So don’t fetching worry about any plots, Almalexia, because clearly it is impossible that anyone could ever desire to be– plot– with me, and I’m a fool for thinking otherwise!”

He had been waiting for a lover, Almalexia realised. And not only had he been waiting for a lover, but he’d been stood up.

Frustrated, Nerevar tugged at a dislodged lock of his own hair. “Forget it,” he grunted, “Vivec is right, I’m a high-minded idiot. Forget it. I–”

“Nerevar,” Almalexia interrupted him, speaking gently. “This is all hypothetical, yes?”

He glanced at her. “Yes, of course.”

“And you were truly doing nothing out here? Nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all, and nothing planned.”

“Wonderful!” She knelt, collected the trowel from beside her feet, and then offered it out to him. “Help me in my garden.”

He stared at the trowel, incredulously.

“I mean,” Almalexia said after a moment, “I would appreciate the help, Nerevar, if you have the time to spare.”

“I’m not much of a gardener, I’ll probably kill everything.”

“No you wont. It’s easy.” She shook the trowel at him. “Please?”

With a heavy sigh, Nerevar accepted the trowel. and stepped… through the Kanet bush. So he hadn’t been lying about his propensity for plant murder. “You are my Queen, and your bidding is my act.”

Biting back a cutting remark about the trampled bush– Nerevar was a very large man, and the Kanet didn’t stand a chance– Almalexia sunk to her knees by the patch of Timsa-Come-By she’d been weeding. It was a cool day, the dark soil spongy and damp beneath her knees, and though it was nearing noon everything remained jewelled with little drops of moisture that made the flowers glisten and the Nirthfly stalks hang their heavy heads. Soon Nerevar stooped down to the ground next to her, his cloak having been cast to the side, revealing some very nice attire beneath. Attire he seemed to have no issue getting dirt on, now that whoever they were meant to impress had scorned him.

“These are Nirthfly stalks,” Almalexia explained, pointing to the spindly yellow plants that shot up between the Timsa-Come-By. “Grab them by the base and pull. Some of them have deep roots, so use the trowel to dig them out if they stick.”

Nerevar obeyed her without question– a delightful rarity for the stubborn man– and started plucking out the weeds as instructed. He was actually quite deft, Almalexia noticed, and after observing the first few to make sure he didn’t mishandle her flowers she felt that she could return to her own work in relative safety. Beside weeding the Timsa-Come-By beds, the Kanet needed to be trimmed back so that those beds would actually be visible (although Nerevar’s 'shortcut’ had certainly knocked it down a peg). Leaving her husband to tackle the Nirthfly, Almalexia set herself to the task of snipping errant Kanet twigs with a pair of shears.

“So,” Nerevar said after a while, “Where did a Queen learn to garden?”

“Ald Sotha, in fact.” With a soft snip of shears a bunch of golden flowers fell to the ground. “Sotha Sil’s mother taught me.”

“As… part of your lessons? You studied magic there, didn’t you?”

“I did study magic there, but gardening wasn’t among my lessons. She…” Almalexia paused, leaning forwards into the bush to try and find the base of a branch, “… She claimed it was calming, that it would help soothe me. I was prone to fits of soul-sickness even as a child. She found me miserable over something silly and–”

There was a sharp rip of roots violently leaving soil, and a soft hiss, “Ah, crap.” Almalexia jerked out of the bush and saw Nerevar holding a whole Timsa-Come-By plant in the air.

“Forgive me,” Nerevar said, “There was a Nirthfly stalk in it, but their roots must have–”

“It’s fine,” Almalexia interrupted him quickly, moving to his side. “It’s okay, Nerevar, don’t worry.”

“I killed it! How is that okay?”

“It’s not dead, look, the roots are intact.” She wrapped an arm around his, leaning her head against his shoulder, and with her other hand gently eased the dislodged plant from his. “We’ll just put it back in the ground.”

“I told you I’d kill it,” Nerevar murmured, sullen.

“Hush. It’s one plant, Nerevar, and it’s not dead.”

“I should have foreseen this. I destroy everything that’s good!”

“It’s not destroyed, and you’re acting like a child! Be calm.”

Nerevar didn’t reply to that, but nor did he push her away, so Almalexia pressed close to him and rested the Timsa-Come-By on her lap. There was, indeed, a Nirthfly stalk tangled into its root-mass; she pinched off the stem and tossed it aside.

“At least I killed the ones I was meant to,” Nerevar said after a moment, trying to sound light-hearted.

“Yes, you’ve done well! Will you dig a hole for this one?”

Almalexia could practically feel his doubt, but nonetheless he leaned forwards and scooped out a hole in the ruined patch of dirt where the Timsa plant had been. Once he did Almalexia leaned in and returned it to the earth, carefully packing in soil around it so that it would stand.

“There,” said Almalexia, “All better.”

“It’s still going to die,” Nerevar said skeptically.

“No, it won’t. It will live, because all plants want to live.”

Almalexia sat back, then, and gestured at the garden around them. “Why do you think we have to weed gardens, husband? Why don’t the weeds know better than to grow amongst flowers?”

Nerevar stared at her. “Because they have no brains, I suppose.”

“That’s– well, no, they don’t, no.” She laughed. “That’s not my point, however. The weeds are like all plants. They want to live, they desire growth, and no matter where they land they will strive towards the light. A weed can’t simply choose not to grow. Even the most broken and torn plant will still struggle to live on.”

Nerevar was still staring at her; suddenly she felt embarrassed. “At least,” she continued, returning quickly to her pruning. “That’s what Alma Sotha told me. It’s just what I think about when gardening. Even the most broken plant in the darkest place will reach for the light. It’s… comforting, I suppose, to think about that.”

A long period of silence, and then she heard Nerevar laughing.

Her face flushed red. “What, husband! Don’t laugh at me, I’m being sincere.”

“I’m not laughing at you, it’s just–” Nerevar’s voice was clear and rich with amusement, “Sotha Sil said you try to give a moral lesson to every story you tell. And you’re giving a moral lesson to gardening. You’re a creature of habit, Almalexia!”

“He said that?”

“He also said you hate to be laughed at.”

“Well, he’s right! I have shears, husband. I will use them.”

“I don’t doubt that,” She heard a soft rip as Nerevar returned to his weeding. “Alma Sotha must have been very wise.”

“Yes, and kind. I said I was upset about something silly when she taught me to garden? Someone I loved was spending time with someone else, that’s what I was upset about. I was miserable because I felt rejected.” She paused. “Nerevar, I’m sorry that your friend didn’t come to meet you.”

“I told you I wasn’t–” he sighed. “… It’s fine. I wasn’t that interested in him regardless. The only injury here is to my pride.”

“So you were going to have an affair!”

“What? No! I mean– damn it, I thought we were having a moment here!”

This made Almalexia laugh again. “I’m kidding. I don’t care, Nerevar, you can have your affairs.”

“Well, it’s not exactly comfortable for me, that you know. You love morals in your stories, and what is the moral to the story of your husband taking lovers behind your back?”

A little snip of shears, and one of the trampled Kanet branches tumbled to the ground. “I don’t know,” Almalexia confessed. “Maybe there’s no moral to that story. Maybe it doesn’t have to be a story at all, and it’s best left unspoken.”

“Then let’s not speak of it.”

So they continued their gardening, enjoying the spring day, and didn’t mention the topic again.

#almalexia #nerevar #fic

40 notes · View notes

i-am-an-accidental-hipster · 5 years

Text

Anime and Animation Recommendations (Includes shows I would never recommend, please read the accompanying text)

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood: I feel like this is what would happen if the album Clockwork Angels by Rush was turned into anime, but the main character was replaced by two brothers who actually have a personality and an interesting backstory. Essentially, it is a mix of a compelling take on western philosophy from an eastern perspective, good character writing, and FANTASTIC art direction. Characters undergo meaningful development, it has no filler, and it avoids the problem of power creep fairly well. Adding to that its heavy use of Sakuga an minimalist animation, and it is one of my favorite anime of all time.

Mob Psycho 100: Criminally underrated. With a plot borrowed from a japanese web-comic maker who is surprisingly good at making comedy and relatable themes meld seamlessly, and animated by Studio Bones which is basically my favorite studio, this show is absolutely fantastic, to the point at which it competes with ol’ Fullmetal for my favorite anime. Like its sister anime One Punch Man, this show uses VERY heavy use of both Sakuga and minimalist styles of animation, switching between them in a way that is hardly noticeable but also really captures the feel of the situation; it even switches art styles regularly, and the animators are not afraid to try new things, making the show an absolute blast to watch. Despite its comedy focus, the main characters undergo extensive development, sometimes in the span of a single episode, and the combat sections are mesmerizing to look at.

One Punch Man: Really good show, slightly overrated, but mostly deserving of the attention it gets. As someone who was unemployed for a long time, this show really captures the difficulties of someone in that situation. The plot, such as it is, is pretty repetitive by it’s very nature, but it’s animated by Mad House studios, and is basically composed entirely of Sakuga with short spurts of minimalist animation to remind one of the original web comic (you may notice a theme in the anime I like), making it a blast to watch. Would recommend.

Hero Academia: The Naruto of our generation, and it’s easy to see why it’s so popular. The character designs and personalities are all memorable (such that you can actually remember all their names), and basically all of the main cast gets at least some screen time; as a result, it is really easy to remember basically everyone’s names. Because of the memorable character designs, it is no surprise that the fandom is bursting at the seams with shippers, but for the most part it’s non-toxic and results in a lot of pretty good fan art. And of course, as you guessed, it has Sakuga, and makes good use of it. Finally, as an aside, it has one of the best portrayals of a paragon archetype character I have seen in a long time, in the form of All Might. Would recommend, but I really don’t have to because it’s all over the place.

Guerren Lagann: Good animation, good character designs, stupid nonsensical plot. A really fun anime if you turn your brain completely off and just watch the GIANT ROBOT FIGHTS.

Kill la Kill: Good animation, but I can’t stand the character designs and the plot is so physically painful I couldn’t watch past the fourth episode (I only watched in the first place because some idiot on youtube said it had interesting themes, which it does not). Do not recommend.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The 08th MS Team: Good anime, but the fanservice is too much for me. Just as I was getting invested in the plot (a treatment of the Gundam war from the perspective of the grunts on the surface), BOOM NAKED BOOBS HERE. No seriously, it came out out of nowhere so suddenly it gave me a heart attack. Mixed feelings on this anime.

Death Note: Good anime. A little melodramatic. I love L, ‘cause he’s basically me but smarter. Would recommend.

Bleach: SO MUCH POTENTIAL WASTED. Season 1 was GREAT, season 2 was ok, and then I couldn’t get past the Bount arc. Would recommend for the sake of the first two seasons.

Attack on Titan: two words: CRIMINALLY OVERRATED. It’s basically edgy trash with little depth or nuance, and a plot that seems ripped from Starship Troopers.

Assassination Classroom: Really good, actually. Well animated, decent character designs, a little weak on character development. Korosensei is my spirit animal (I’m a teacher). Goodness gracious, he embodies everything I want to be in terms of being a teacher, except perhaps his obsession with big boobs. Would recommend.

Psycho-Pass: Very cerebral, very interesting, very mesmerizing, has complex themes. Only downsides are that it’s basically a torture porn during the entire first half of the first season, which means you don’t want to eat before you watch it, and really only the main two protagonists and the main villain have good character designs. Would recommend for those who don’t mind seeing a lot of mutilated bodies and who like complex themes.

Now for shows that look like anime:

Avatar the Last Airbender: No surprise, this is a really good show. Minimal filler, and what filler there is doesn’t feel like filler. Good action, excellent handling of complex themes, good magic system. The plot starts out okay and then ramps up significantly after the season one finale. Where this show really shines, though, is it’s characters, who are almost all memorable and have great voice acting. Better yet, almost all of them get character development. Also a good exploration of eastern philosophy. Would recommend to those three people who haven’t seen it yet.

Legend of Korra: Good action, good art direction, really good animation. Not sure I like most of the characters, though. to be honest, Varrick, Zhu Li, Bumi, and Bo Lin are the only protagonists who I like in this show, besides of course the returning caste from the previous show. Season two was pretty bad, but the plot was very strong for seasons 1, 3, and 4. Some things felt very shoehorned. Almost all the villains were so incredibly compelling that they almost made up for the bland protagonists, and each one represented an individual theme, which was a very nice touch. Kinda screwed up some of the lore and the magic system, though. Mixed feelings on this one.

Dragon Prince: Season 1 was good, introduced a really cool magic system, nice complex themes, and a diverse and likable cast. The down side was that it suffered from some... questionable choices in animation style. Season 2, on the other hand, is... just really, really, really good. It has a good chance of becoming the next Avatar the Last Airbender if it keeps this up. It explores the magic system in fascinating detail, the themes are developed with a depth that rivals that of Korra, the plot has thickened, and the characters have developed significantly in likability and relatability. I highly recommend this one.

Voltron Legedary Defender: Starts out really good with Sakuga all around, kick-ass action scenes, and a decent plot. Unfortunately the shippers infested the fandom to the point where they were actually influencing the direction of the show, and the plot suffered as a result. Over the course of eight season, the show slowly decayed into a hollow shell. Mixed feelings on this one.

Ben 10: Kinda overrated, but still good. A nice watch on day you just want to relax and watch well-animated fights, but don’t expect it to make much sense.

Generator Rex: Criminally underrated. I love all the characters, all the action is great (even if it doesn’t make sense sometimes), animation is pretty good throughout, and it actually has really good technobabble. Honestly, it is my favorite show out of all of the ones on the list, despite its problems, just because of the really cool aesthetic. The main character starts as an obnoxious stereotypical Cartoon Network Protagonist, and develops into my second-favorite depiction of a paragon archetype. All the villains are memorable (even the silly ones). The first season has the best stand-alones (with some absolutely hilarious comedy episodes, dark edgy episodes, and fascinating pieces of science fiction); the second season has a season finale so good it made me cry, and the third season has by far the most interesting plot. I have a recommended watch order if you want to watch it.

Samurai Jack: Minimalist, very stylized, has some kick-ass fight sequences. Each episode has it’s own plot with not much in terms of overlap, but even the minor characters are memorable. My favorite is the Scotsman, but that is really no surprise if you watch the show. The Yin Yang dynamic between Jack and Aku is really interesting in its own right. Would highly recommend.

Teen Titans: Starts out mediocre, quickly gets good by the end of the first season, then ramps up to amazing by whichever season had the Trigon arc. Characters are almost as instantly recognizable as those in Hero Academia, and each one gets character development. It also has some standalone episodes that are almost as good as the standalones in Generator Rex. YOU SHOULD WATCH THIS SHOW.

Young Justice: Very similar to Generator Rex in many way. Memorable characters with good character development, good sci-fi, good action, and a similar season structure. It’s having a new third season right now which, despite the drop in animation quality due to limited funds, still manages to be engaging (especially the Vandal Savage origin episode and the three-episode arc devoted to Cyborg’s origin). Would recommend.

Transformers Animated: Criminally underrated, largely because of its... different animation style which is more like the animation for Teen Titans than the original G1 series, and the fact that they changed a lot of the lore. It has surprisingly complex themes, the voice acting is spot-on, and they do a good job of handling power creep. Though many of the protagonists start out kind of unlikable, they get really good development as the series goes on. By season 3, every single character has become so likable that it becomes legitimately distressing when they get hurt, and they play it to good effect. To give you an idea, when my sister saw the season finale of this show, she had an enormous melt-down at the end when her favorite character died (not telling who). It took three days to calm her down (the only way to do so was to introduce her to the idea of fan-fiction. I HIGHLY recommend this show.

#fullmetal alchemsit brotherhood #anime #young justice #dragon prince #generator rex #my hero academia #mob psycho 100 #transformers #samurai jack

84 notes · View notes

tunesscribbles · 5 years

Text

Peter Maximoff x Male!Reader

Cross My Heart And Hope To Die

To say you didn't feel that good at the moment was a huge understatement. You were pretty sure your mood deserved to be called miserable. But at the same time you tried to convince yourself that you had absolutely no reason to feel the way you do and that the reasons you were being so upset were silly. Just angsty-teenager-stuffTM. It didn't take you long to realize that wasn't helpful. So you continued to walk around with an imaginary rain cloud above your head.

But hopefully that would change soon, because you were on your way to hang around with Peter, your best friend who didn't even bother showing up at school today. With his short attention span, you wouldn't be surprised if he just got distracted and simply forgot to go to school.

You wished you could forget about things that easily. School was stressing you out. There was just too much work in too little time and don't even get started on the teachers. Some of them probably aren't human, they are demons created to torture children, you swear!

Peter's mother let you inside and told you where to find Peter. He was in the basement, of course.

As soon as you arrived downstairs you let yourself fall face first onto his couch.

Peter looked up from his game of Pong to turn around and look at you.

„Why does the sofa get a more enthusiastic greeting than me?“, he asked with a mock hurt tone in his voice.

You grumbled a response into the piece of furniture.

„Sorry, I don't speak couch-mumbling fluently, what was that?“

Unwillingly you adjusted the position of your head. „I said it's because you abandoned me in school.“, you repeated and glared at him.

Peter rolled his eyes. „Someone sure is a drama-queen today!“

You were about to reply something, but you kind of lost your motivation halfway through and instead just turned away from him.

It didn't take Peter as long as you might think to notice that you weren't just being melodramatic. He actually knew the second you stepped inside the basement without greeting him that something was wrong. The somewhat teasing comments were to test out the waters.

Did something happen in school that made his best friend feel so miserable? Damn, he should've gone today! He hated it when you were so upset. He just wanted happy [Name] back. He wanted your sarcastic remarks, stupid jokes and even your complaining about the teachers and other students. He also wanted a lot of other things, but he didn't allow himself to think about that.

Faster than a person could blink he sat down next to you on the couch.

„Alright [Nickname], spill!“, he commanded.

„Don't wanna.“, you replied as you pushed yourself up to sit upright.

„Then stop crying and play Ping-Pong with me!“, he said and was already stood next to the ping pong table. He tossed you the other bat. You catched it and joined him.

„But no super speed, Speedy Gonzales!“, you said.

„What? Where's the fun with that?“, he exclaimed.

„The fun's that I actually have a chance.“, you smiled and sent the ball going.

„Pfft, as if. I am the master of ping pong!“, he proclaimed with a smug grin on his face. You rolled your eyes. „Yeah, sure whatever.“

After you played for like two and a half minutes he started complaining.

„You're too slow!“

„Tell me something I don't know!“

„I got an idea! How about me make teams?“, he suggested while balancing the ball on his bat.

„We are two people, Peter. If you don't plan on kidnapping some strangers and make them play with us, there are no teams.“ You made quotation marks with your fingers when you said 'teams'.

„Kidnapping? That's illegal, you know? No, I was thinking more like you and me against myself.“

„So basically you want to show off your speed and skills...again“, you said dryly.

He acted like he was thinking about it. „Maybe a little bit.“, he eventually said with a shrug.

„If you want to impress me, you'll have to try a little harder than that.“, you teased.

In the blink of an eye he stood merely a feet away from you. „Did you have something in mind?“, he asked and leaned towards you ever so slightly. He locked eyes with you and neither of you said anything for a moment or two.

You really wanted to reach out and close the gap between you two, but didn't. You couldn't, you weren't allowed to. What would your parents say? What would all the others say? Would they treat you differently? Assuredly. But most importantly, how would Peter react? If he would want this at least half as much as you do, then fuck everyone else's opinion!

You felt something like courage flow through your veins but only for a moment.

Suddenly you cracked up laughing, throwing Peter off guard.

„What's so funny?“, he asked completely confused. You were laughing so hard you had to sit down on the floor and couldn't answer.

Peter eyed you with slight suspicion. Even though you were laughing, something seemed off.

Once you calmed down somewhat you noticed Peter sitting next to you. He was eating a twinkie.

„Sorry, I-“, you chuckled a bit more, „I just thought of something hilarious!“

„And what would that be?“, he asked, trying to sound casual.

You sighed before you said: „My self-esteem.“ You looked at the ceiling, trying to avoid eye-contact.

Peter started to look slightly concerned. „Seriously, who rained on your parade today?“

„Life.“, you replied calmly and smiled melancholy.

He quirked an eyebrow at you. „Did you suddenly get high or something?“

The atmosphere in the basement had changed drastically into something heavier. You let your smile drop. „No, I...I don't know.“ You paused for another moment.

You were surprised about the fact that Peter didn't seem to have moved in a while. You risked to shoot a look over to him. He looked partly still confused and partly worried, like he wanted to help but really didn't know how. It was kind of heartbreaking.

„It's just- I always feel so busy but at the end of the day, I get nothing done. What if that doesn't change? What if I waste my whole life doing nothing?“

„Nah, you got me!“, Peter said with a grin. He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer. „The next time you feel like you get nothing done just tell me, I'll keep you busy!“ He playfully winked at you. You gratefully smiled at him but then started to chuckle again.

„What now?“, he groaned.

„You just made that sound extremely ambiguous!“

He seemed to notice too and smirked. „Well, how ambiguous do you want it to be?“, he asked you while wiggling his eyebrows.

„Oh, very!“, you replied laughing.

„Okay.“, he said. Then he quickly pushed himself even more into your personal space and pressed his lips on yours. The kiss didn't last long, it was just a peck.

You stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. You blinked once, twice and you could feel your face getting warmer.

„Ha, you're blushing! I win!“, he exclaimed but it didn't cover up his nervousness.

„Oh, shut up, you're blushing too!“ You playfully pushed his face away.

He laughed but then got a little bit more serious. „So do you like..uh..y'know...I think I kinda,uhm...“, he spluttered awkwardly. You simply gave him your widest grin.

„For someone as fast as you, you're pretty darn slow!“

It didn't need saying, not immediately. For now it was enough that you both just knew. In the future you'd both make sure the other knows exactly how loved they are, be it through gestures or words.

(Sequel)

#reader insert #peter maximoff #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff x male reader #male!reader insert #xmen x reader #fluff #hurt comfort #kinda #evan peters #petester mcspeedster #the scribbles

37 notes · View notes

pluckyredhead · 6 years

Text

Daredevil 101: Playing to the Camera, Part 1

Okay, I know we just got started on Bendis, but we’re taking a quick break for something more lighthearted before everything is terrible for a full decade. “Playing to the Camera” ran from #20-25 of Volume 2 (between “Wake Up” and the rest of the Bendis run), was written by Bob Gale and drawn by David Ross, and is basically, well, legal farce. (HEY SHOW WRITERS: I know you finished Season 3 already but I would strongly suggest throwing everything out and starting from scratch with the words “legal farce” in huge letters on your vision boards.)

The adventure starts with a wealthy philanthropist named Samuel Griggs coming to Matt with an...unexpected request:

I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS, even those giant awful 90s suits.

So why does Griggs want to sue ol’ Hornhead? Well:

Basically, Daredevil and some ninjas smashed up Griggs’ greenhouse and booked it, leaving him to clean up the (expensive) mess. He can afford to do so, of course, but he doesn’t think it’s right that superheroes can cause widespread property damage with impunity, so he’s decided to sue Daredevil to establish a precedent that will stop this behavior.

Matt and Foggy tell him they’ll think about it, and then talk it over. Matt insists that the incident Griggs described never happened, but that Griggs is telling the truth, or at least believes he is - which means there’s either a Daredevil imposter out there, or someone’s playing with either Griggs’ or Matt’s memory. Anyway, Matt, of course, wants to take the case.

Foggy is like “OH MY GOD NO THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA AND ALSO FRAUD.” Matt argues that if they take the case, they can both find the imposter Daredevil and control the narrative, whereas a less scrupulous lawyer might dig into secrets about Daredevil that they don’t want getting out. Foggy’s like “Well, it’s still a terrible idea, but I’m Foggy Nelson so if you say MATT YES I say Foggy also yes.”

So they take the case! It is, unsurprisingly, a complete disaster.

For starters, the minute Nelson & Murdock sign on, Griggs goes straight to the press, turning the case into a media circus.

Oh, and there’s zero physical evidence for the incident having actually occurred. Good for Daredevil; not so good for Nelson & Murdock.

Meanwhile, there’s the issue of subpoenaing a masked vigilante. Matt and Foggy’s plucky new employee Elaine gets creative:

CALLED. THE EFF. OUT. What I love about this, besides Elaine’s sheer, hilarious chutzpah, is that Matt’s like “Omg this was the most belligerent, melodramatic way to do this possible, I HAVE NEVER BEEN PROUDER.”

Unfortunately for Elaine, the people of New York love Daredevil and aren’t thrilled that he’s being sued. In fact, a mob gathers when Elaine attempts to serve DD:

Jimmy Olsen over there lights the subpoena on fire and, well, that’s that. Matt’s surveying the scene from a nearby roof (in costume, of course), but he recognizes that showing up might cause violence to break out, so he stays clear.

Soon after, Daredevil’s old enemy the Jester is released from prison. He promptly hits a bank...

...but he doesn’t seem to be robbing it? He’s just kind of...pranking people?

Anyway, Daredevil gives chase, and the Jester hits him with the best prank of all:

Oh Elaine, always thinking outside the box! (Matt is less pleased about her hiring the Jester than he was about her calling him out publicly.)

Anyway, the Jester makes a good point in that last panel: now that Matt’s been served, he needs legal representation. Foggy agrees:

I’m not sure whose apartment that is but I’m so charmed by these two marrieds making coffee and watching TV together.

Matt finally settles on a nobody lawyer named Kate Vinokur:

Kate, I like you, but what is that skirt. Please don’t. On the other hand, that office is amazing.

Kate’s got integrity, and she doesn’t ask Matt his secret identity, so he’s confident he’s made the right choice. But he’s still going to Foggy for overall strategy:

Okay, this is clearly the same apartment as before but now instead of Foggy making coffee for Matt, Matt is making cocktails for Foggy. Are we sure they’re not actually married?

(Also they’re talking about the case, whatever.)

Meanwhile, Griggs offers a settlement in exchange for a public apology, which of course Matt is not going to give him, because he didn’t actually do the thing he’s being sued for:

GOD, SHUT UP, GRIGGS

Anyway, not only is this bad for Daredevil, it makes Matt and Foggy look like amateurs who can’t control their client. They’re tempted to drop him, but that would hurt their reputations too, so they just read him the riot act. Meanwhile Daredevil “borrows” $100,000 from Tony and T’Challa (fellas, you’re not getting that money back) and holds his own press conference so that Kate can announce that he is making the donation because the children deserve it without it being held hostage to a lawsuit, but that he is not apologizing because he denies the charges, SO THERE.

Oh, also somewhere in there Kate reminds him to be in court for jury selection and they take the opportunity to flirt:

SUB MATT CONFIRMED also this is CUTE.

Across town, Team N&M works on filling in the missing pieces of their case:

When you regularly read comics from the 40s-60s, a comic from 2001 doesn’t usually feel “old.” Like, this is about when I started reading comics, so it pretty much feels contemporary to me, like it could have come out a couple years ago. And then I run into lines like “If he was at home, why would he call from his cellphone?” and I realize that this comic is 17 years old and the world is extraordinarily different now.

P.S. I see Elaine’s brought her best mullet and several-sizes-too-small tank top to the office today!

Matt investigates. Turns out Griggs wasn’t at home - he was with his mistress:

The mistress won’t testify against Griggs because she cares about him, but now Matt knows that despite Griggs’ continued insistence that Daredevil trashed his greenhouse, it definitely never happened. He and Foggy confront Griggs with the tenuous nature of their case:

There’s no physical evidence one way or the other, and even if Griggs’ mistress won’t testify, the very fact that he has a mistress might come out and sway the jury against him. If Griggs won’t let it go - and he won’t - then they need to find a witness who can back him up.

Suddenly, a janitor named Bradlee comes out of the woodwork to corroborate Griggs’ story...and weirdly enough, he uses the same language Griggs did. Like, exactly. Matt theorizes that they’re getting that language from the same place:

Foggy’s so good at his job. Bless. <3

It turns out Griggs saw his therapist, Arnold Quaid, between talking to Matt and Foggy and Bradlee coming forward. Matt suits up and heads over to confront Quaid, who he’s pretty sure is the mastermind behind all of this:

GASP! IT’S THE MATADOR! He’s reformed, sort of, and implanting false memories in people...just because he can, really?

Anyway, Matt is NOT ABOUT THIS, so he drags Eloganto over to Griggs’ office to end this farce once and for all:

Neither Eloganto nor Griggs have any idea what Matt’s talking about. Neither one has ever seen the other before, and Eloganto insists that he is not Quaid and has no idea why Matt’s dragged him off the streets for this confrontation.

A very confused and embarrassed Matt is forced to retreat...and unsurprisingly, Kate is not happy with him. He insists that the rabbit hole just goes deeper than they thought, which she’s pretty skeptical about, until...

DUN DUN DUN!

What will happen at the trial? Find out next time on Daredevil 101! Spoiler: it’s EXTREMELY SILLY.

#daredevil #daredevil 101

46 notes · View notes

azulaahai · 6 years

Note

A prompt for you! Jon and Sansa are in an arranged marriage and Sansa finds out that Jon has been leaving WF to visit the brothel in Wintertown a few times. What she doesn't know is that he's there because he's making sure that the Wildling women who now work there aren't being mistreated as he feels responsible for them.

Hey, thanks so much for the prompt, sorry it took a while - this became longer than planned, and pretty melodramatic lmao but anyway - hope you like it! :)

Also put this on AO3

* * *

I: SANSA

Those songs Sansa loved always ended when the war in them did, when the giant was slain and the castle retaken. She’d never heard a song that spoke of how the giant never stopped haunting your nightmares, or how the castle for evermore held ghosts. Her search for guidance in them was therefor fruitless, and more than in a long while, Sansa missed her mother - her soothing words and clever advice.

Lady Catelyn had always known what measures to take, though Sansa was certain her mother would not be too glad at her eldest daughter’s situation had she lived to see it.

Sansa would like to think her marriage was not an unhappy one. She was fond of Jon and he of her, and there was a mutual respect, a quiet understanding that stopped the silence that filled most of their time together from becoming uncomfortable.

But there was silence, aye - too much of it. In addition, Sansa had been getting the feeling that her husband was hiding something from her lately - it was subtle, and had she confronted him about it, he’d surely have denied it. But he’d seemed so distant of late. Were they still so broken, had the scars not healed, was it still the war that haunted him?

Perhaps her husband was just burnt out to exhaustion by the workload. The wildling settlements in the Gift kept them all busy. Sansa knew Jon was preoccupied with his duties - by the gods, did she now know the weight of a crown - but he appeared even more burdened lately, stumbling into bed just an hour or two before dawn, and spending more and more of his waking time away from her.

So when the news came, Sansa wasn’t as surprised as she might have been, but the revelation still hit her like a punch.

“Are you certain?” she asked aloud. The lady before her curtsied and nodded, looking up at Sansa with glittering, intelligent eyes. She was newly married to a lesser lord sworn to house Stark, and likely eager to gain the queen’s trust by being the first one to bring her the news - no matter how disturbing those news were.

“Positive, your grace. My husband saw him, in broad daylight, stepping out of the establishment, as if he didn’t care who saw.” The lady blushed, and though Sansa knew her embarrassment was likely for show, she admired the girl’s acting abilities. She’d fit in King’s Landing. “I’m so very sorry to have to tell you this, your grace. But I thought you ought to know.” Sansa lowered her eyes, having to gather herself before responding with the proper regality.

“I appreciate you coming to me with this.” She wasn’t sure she truly did. Sometimes naïve innocence was to prefer over knowledge and a broken heart. “I shall handle this matter in private. I must ask for you to speak of it no more, not to anyone at all, do you understand me?” The girl once more curtsied gracefully.

“Of course, your grace. You can count on my discretion.” Sansa wouldn’t at all count on that, but there wasn’t much to be done since she wasn’t about to bribe or scare the girl to silence. Besides, if the things she spoke of were true and Jon continued with this behaviour … there would be no stopping the rumours, then.

She dismissed the girl, and when the chamber door closed and Sansa was alone at last, she closed her eyes, trying to keep the feelings of betrayal and grief that threatened to overwhelm her at bay by analysing the situation as rationally as she could manage.

So.

Her husband had - allegedly, Sansa reminded herself - been visiting a brothel in Wintertown.

Sansa could hear how naïve it sounded even as she thought it, but the only thing she could think was - not Jon. Jon would never. Jon, her sweet Jon, who’s first words to her after their wedding in the godswood had been that Ghost was her wolf now as much as his (which was so adorable and silly that Sansa never failed to smile when she thought about it), who knew exactly what it meant to grow up a bastard - would that man start visiting a brothel without explanation?

The thought calmed her. No, he would not. It could not be true. She would not believe it.

Not until she saw it with her own two eyes, Sansa thought, a plan beginning to form in her head.

* * *

To Sansa’s fright, an opportunity to put the plan to work presented itself the very next day. Jon was taking his mid-day meal with her and their friends, for once not eating alone in his solar whilst continuing to work. Though he was there in the flesh, his mind seemed to be far away somewhere, and it pinched Sansa’s heart to see him so distant.

“Jon?” she asked gently, placing a hand on his arm. Her husband blinked at her, startled.

“Forgive me, my love.” His love, now - was she? “I was thinking of something else.” Sansa managed a smile.

“I just asked if you’d like to take a ride this afternoon? It’s been a while since we rode out together.” She wasn’t a very fond rider, but she treasured the little explorations of the northern woods Jon took her out on. (Or used to take her out on.)

The moment she uttered the words, her certainty about Jon not being involved began to fade. His face became stern, closed - by the gods, he was hiding something from her.

“I can’t this afternoon. I have business in Wintertown.” Sansa’s heart sank.

“Perhaps I could accompany you there”, Sansa said smoothly, hating the pleading streak in her voice but unable to stop herself. She had to know. Had to find out.

“I’m afraid my business would only bore you”, Jon said, making Sam - who was seated at his other side - look up from his meal with a surprised look upon his face. Jon wasn’t usually so dismissive about Sansa’s role in the rule of the North, both of them careful to put up a united front even in matters where they disagreed. Sansa’s cheeks heated from embarrassment and anger. Anger was good, she thought - made it easier to push other feelings aside and focus on her goal.

To find out the truth.

* * *

“We should not be here, your grace”, Brienne said nervously, looking around with a hand on the hilt of her sword. “It is a bad part of town.”

“We’ll go back to the castle soon”, Sansa assured her, trying to hide the fact that she too felt a little nervous. “And don’t call me your grace”, she added in a whisper. “I’m Salys now, remember?” Brienne scowled, but nodded.

They walked down the street, Sansa keeping her head down and hoping the black hood she wore covered most of her features. A northerner recognising their queen now could quickly become awkward - and potentially dangerous.

Embarrassed, but lost, she had to stop and ask for directions, not looking into the eyes of the woman who with a grin pointed down the street. Brienne followed as Sansa hurried down the street, feeling like quite the spy as she spotted the sign marking the brothel - she stopped by a street-corner a few houses away, the allyway before her deserted.

As good a place as any, she thought, nodding to Brienne as she took a few steps forward before she stopped, attempting to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

Now, they could only wait.

* * *

They had been there for an hour or so, repeatedly been mistaken for women of the street (which was rather ironic, considering why they were here) and been soaked through by the gentle spring rain that had begun falling, and Sansa was just about to give up and ask Brienne to take her back home, when the street’s atmosphere suddenly shifted to one of delighted shock - the very air seemed to quake with the gossip that was to come.

For stepping out from the brothel - in broad daylight, just as the lady had claimed, walking towards his horse without even attempting to conceal his identity - was none other than the king in the North himself.

* * *

II: JON

Sansa hadn’t come down for supper that evening.

He’d been told his wife had a headache and was resting, but Gilly had refused to look him in the eyes as she said it, making Jon rather puzzled. His confusion only increased when he, after a rather awkward dinner during which no one seemed very talkative, found the door to his and Sansa’s shared bedchamber locked.

He knocked.

No reply.

“Uhm, Sansa?” he called out gently. Perhaps she was asleep. Had she locked the door by accident? “My love?” Still no reply, but now he heard movement on the other side of the door. He knocked again, irrational worry - never far from him since the war - making him tense. Silly visions of southern assassins or wild beasts having broken in flashed before his eyes.

“Sansa? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Jon”, she answered him, at last. “Just … you can sleep in your old chambers tonight.” Something about her tone was off. What in all the seven hells was going on?

“Of course I can, if you need me to”, he replied. “Do you need me to send for Sam?”

“No. I am well. Just leave me be.” Still, he hesitated. Her voice was strangely muffled, sounding almost as if she’d been weeping. Something was wrong.

“Sansa”, he said, frustrated. “What’s the matter?”

No answer.

“Would you open the door, love?” he tried again.

To his surprise, she did so.

Jon wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the sight that greeted him. Sansa was still dressed in her dark-blue gown, her hair hanging loosely, messily. Her eyes were reddened from crying, making Jon’s heart ache, but that wasn’t what took him by surprise - it was the rage in them.

Sansa was furious.

“What…” Jon began, but Sansa stopped him by abruptly stepping aside, a rather hostile invite for him to enter. He did, and she shut the door behind him a little harder than necessary.

“Sansa. What is going on?” He was getting desperate.

“You tell me”, Sansa replied in a low voice. Remembering her curtesies, even when she was so obviously enraged. “You tell me what in all the seven hells” - Jon was startled to hear her curse - Sansa never cursed - “you were doing at the Wintertown brothel.”

Stupified, Jon stared at her. There were several things he could not believe about the situation - the fact that Sansa had just used the word ‘brothel’, the fact she’d even found out, the fact she’d been crying over him - and most importanly, how big a fool he’d been.

* * *

III: SANSA

He looked absolutely mortified at her words, and for a second Sansa’s heart broke all over again. It was true, then, and he wasn’t even going to explain himself, it seemed.

But then he spoke, startled, rushing through the words so quickly Sansa could barely keep up.

”Sansa, love, no – that’s not at all what – I don’t think you realise -”

”Do you deny it?” she asked quietly, hating her voice for breaking. ”I saw you, with my own eyes, stepping out of that brothel. I dare you to look me in the eyes and deny it.”

”Sansa”, he said, again grasping for words. ”I don’t deny being at that brothel, no -”

”Then go. I don’t want you here.” She turned away from him in a vain attempt to save face and gather herself without his eyes drilling into hers.

”Sansa”, he said again. ”Sansa. That brothel – there are wildling women working there.”

“I don’t want to know”, she snarled.

“That’s – not like that! I just – I learned they’d been coming to Wintertown and that some of them had turned to the brothels …” Jon looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I – I don’t want to shock you, my love -” Sansa rolled her eyes. Once, a million years ago, she might have objected to him speaking of such matters to her, but she was a woman grown, wed and bed, war-torn and strong.

She could hear of a brothel. Aspecially one it seemed her husband frequented.

“- but several wildling women has started working on that brothel,” Jon continued, still rambling, “and – I wanted to make sure that they were looked after, is all. That the brothel keep didn’t see it as an opportunity to take advantage of the wildlings being new to town.”

Finally, he stopped for a breath, looking up at her with sadness in his eyes.

“I didn’t – I’d never touch anyone, of course.” He lowered his voice, straightening his back. “No one but you.”

“Jon”, she said. “I’m not a fool, nor am I nearly as frail as you clearly think me. If you …” She looked down at the floor, the words stuck in her throat. “I – there’s no need to make up stories for me. If you’d … I mean, if you’ve ever …” She trailed off again. By the gods, they were hopeless at this, weren’t they? “I’d just want to know.” It came out nearly a whisper.

“Sansa”, he pleaded. “I swear to you. I … There’s only you.”

Then - in a voice so low Sansa barely heard, softly - he said the three words Sansa’d been waiting to hear. Three words they’d been tiptoeing around - ‘my love’, he called her, ‘lovely’ sometimes, but at no point during their marriage had he uttered those three words aloud -

- three words that changed everything.

* * *

IV: BRIENNE

“You’re going to Wintertown, your grace? Again?” Brienne asked, glancing down the table at Jon, who had looked particularly infatuated with his wife this morning, smiling sheepishly towards Sansa more than once as they broke their fast. Sansa, too, seemed more chipper than usual, returning Jon’s smiles with almost girlish giggles.

Brienne was glad of it, of course - they must have worked out the issues of yesterday - though she still found it hard to forgive so grave an insult to lady Sansa as the one Jon had inflicted upon her yesterday. There must be something I don’t know, otherwise they wouldn’t be so upbeat.

“Yes”, queen Sansa replied to her question, eyes glittering. Then, in a lower voice - “But you needn’t come with me, this time. I am accompanying Jon on a supervision of the working conditions of wildlings in Wintertown.”

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #jon x sansa #jonsafic #my fic #asks #prompts #amymel86

92 notes · View notes

mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Forget Me Not Chapter 11 ~Uncertainty and Mortality~

Claire could barely see through tears rapidly welling up in her eyes. She prayed they wouldn't fall, afraid to show the world she was affected by some measly string of words contrived to deliberately hurt her.

If I had a face like yours, my parents would die of shock too.

With trembling hands, she folded the offensive note that was left on top of her schoolbooks and slipped it in her skirt pocket. This was not the first time it happened, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. Hell would have to freeze a thousand times over before she showed them how upset she was. Straightening her spine and swallowing a golf ball-sized lump in her throat, she sat down and focused on the class that was about to commence. Her herculean effort to hold back the tears was tested further when she overheard a sniggering group taunting her in whispers. They jeered in hurtful undertones, with words that were so wounding that often times she wished she had died with her parents.

Stubbornness prevented her from crying though, afraid Jamie would notice and come swooping in to save the day. That's what he always did. He was a fixer and a caretaker, and she couldn't let him muscle in and assert himself as her repairman. No, I can't have that. Of course, he would still clock something was up, but without the evidence of tears, the subject was easier dropped.

I don't need fixing. If other people have a problem with me, it was my cross to bear. The Frasers have done more than enough, and I don't need them fighting my battles.

..........

She should be used to this by now. They're only words, and words can't hurt her unless she allowed it. You aren't those words. You aren't the shouts and names. You aren't the awful things spat at you like flavourless gum. Get a grip, Beauchamp!

Leaning back on her chair as she stared into the laptop screen, Claire let out a massive sigh of relief. There had been no nasty messages waiting for her in the Facebook inbox neither was there any hints of disapproval in the comments' box when Jamie announced on Social Media that they were together. The picture he posted of them spoke volumes of his possessiveness - they were locked in an embrace, while she looked straight to the camera, with his forehead pressed against her jawline, face slightly turned, revealing only an eye and an upturned mouth that said, My Girl. Although he posted their relationship status a few days ago, the congratulatory comments kept coming, and Claire had been holding her breath waiting for some smart ass remark. But there were none, much to her surprise.

Respite from the vile messages she received almost regularly, didn't detract her from feeling slightly apprehensive at the thought of Jamie bringing Annalise to Lallybroch. Even when pangs of jealousy sliced through her insides mercilessly, her conscience couldn't bear the idea of his ex-girlfriend being left alone in her condition. Compared to Annalise, she had been fortunate to have been raised by a loving family, and she couldn't deny her wish to not be alone when she was given the death sentence, cancer. It was a big ask, but Claire thought it was a plea of a dying, desperate woman.

Jamie had wanted her say in the matter, but they both knew the answer already. Brian and Ellen had raised them to always do the right thing and to never shirk from responsibility, and that had been drummed into their upbringing so incessantly that sometimes little sacrifices were made.

Her thoughts drifted back once again to Annalise. Although they had the same tragic start to childhood, the similarities didn't end there. According to Jamie, Annalise had always felt she was an outsider and never really fitted in. The fact that she had no one around her at her lowest point in life substantiated that story. Maybe Jamie is drawn to women he thinks need saving and protecting? I'm in a good place in life now, and perhaps I would lose that appeal once he realised I don't need safeguarding. Shaking herself, she pushed those thoughts away, reprimanding herself for being melodramatic, a trait that seemed to be trending in her emotions lately.

Claire had just finished going through the menu plans for the grand re-opening of The Fraser Manor Inn when Willie's car screeched to a stop outside the house on the gravelled driveway. He had agreed to take her to Lallybroch after running errands. Declining to go with him earlier to the airport to pick up Jamie and Annalise, she had opted to see them in Lallybroch instead later in the day. I need to go through the food stock and beverage inventory for the restaurant. The excuse had sounded lame to her ears, but deep down, she knew she was delaying the inevitable - meeting Jamie's ex-girlfriend. What am I anxious about? Jamie is a solid guy...as solid as solid go and how often had he said he loves me? Yeah, a round of applause Beauchamp, for daring to exercise rational thinking.

Annoyed with herself, she stuffed her laptop and phone in her satchel, before taking a quick glance over of her reflection in the hallway mirror. She was wearing a creamy sweater over a white shirt, tight black jeans and weathered heavy Wellington boots - ideal for the cold and blustery day. A few times, prior, she had considered changing her outfit, perhaps with an afterthought of making an effort for Jamie or show-offing to Annalise. But in the end, practicality won the day when the weather proved to be too cold for a dress.

Once outside, she ran to Willie's waiting car and flung the door open. Clumsily she threw her satchel in before plopping into the passenger seat. "Hey, you...God, it's bloody freezing! Thank you for giving me a lift." Shivering, she rubbed her hands together for warmth before offering them to Willie to rub in his bigger ones and blow his breath into, an old habit they have shared from the past.

Instead of taking her hands, Willie started the car and pulled out of the driveaway. "Place them under yer thighs. They'll warm up quicker there," he grunted as he turned the heater up a notch, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Oh," she shrugged, arching an eyebrow. "Grumpy much?" She wanted so much to know what he thought of Annalise but instead settled back on her seat and waited. Willie had not been himself lately, and she had put it down to the build-up of the re-opening of the hotel.

Letting out a huge sigh, he reached out to squeeze her hand. "I haven't had much sleep."

"I hope it's just lack of sleep, Willie. You've been acting really weird on me these past few days, and I don't like it. One minute you want to talk to me and the next minute you're avoiding me." Claire had been noticing recently, how he flinches a lot every time she was near and wondered what she had done wrong. "I hope it has nothing to do with my new deodorant." She slapped her knee and laughed as she realised she had spoken her thoughts out loud.

Willie didn't laugh. "Would it bother ye?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Would it bother me what?" she asked, confusion swarming her brain.

"If I avoided ye," he replied, hitting the blinker before he turned right on the road.

"Of course, it would bother me, you silly goose," she said as she rummaged into her satchel, to take out a granola bar.

"Why?"

"Because I love you." She took a bite and offered her snack to Willie with an outstretched hand.

He shook his head at the offering, sparing her only a quick glance. "Ditto."

"Ditto, what the fuck is that?" she asked in a muffled voice, chewing vigorously and glaring at him. Claire knew what the word meant, but this weird Willie vibe thing was beginning to annoy her. He usually would have said I love you back.

Willie ignored the question. "Any unpleasant messages lately?"

"None of your business," she snapped, shoving her bag at her feet.

"I guess I deserved that." This time he laughed, probably an effort to lighten the heavy mood he created. "Now who's grumpy?"

"I'm not grumpy, I'm just annoyed at you. You know what...you really ought to get a life. Maybe it would improve your morose mood...like go on a date, meet a girl....that sort of thing." Claire sat back thoughtfully, processing her internal RAM before continuing. "God, I can't remember a time when you had a girlfriend. I know you did because I can remember a girl vaguely, but that must have been ages ago." She glanced at his profile and saw his throat bob up and down.

"That's hospitality industry for ye...nae time for romance." He slowed down the car as he approached a smaller road leading to Lallybroch.

"Utter shite and you know that! How about Geillis?" Claire said without missing a beat, her eyes lighting up. "She's single, available and she'll understand the long hours working in a hotel,"

"Nah, she's a nice lass but too brash for my taste." He pressed the inside of his cheek with his tongue in an attempt to suppress a burst of laughter.

Claire snorted out loud. She had to agree with Willie on this one that her friend is too cocksure for her own good. "You do know we have some new staff employed in the hotel. Surely, there's bound to be one that meets your discerning taste. But either way, go out there and find your special someone. You deserve that."

He didn't answer, and Claire left it at that, driving in silence for a while. She had been quite sure there was an attraction between Geillis and Willie from the moment they met, but today she wasn't in the mood to play matchmaker nor pry more into Willie's love life. Not for now, at least. There were other pressing matters such as Annalise and her own new relationship with Jamie.

As they pulled up at Lallybroch's driveway, Willie gave her a wink as he glanced at her. "Hey, I'll probably take yer advice and go out on a date, if that makes ye happy and me less dour."

"Good for you, you owe it to yourself. But...umm..." She went silent for a moment thinking Willie hadn't mentioned Jamie nor Annalise. "Willie...what do you think of Annalise? I don't mean to sound like a jealous nag, but I want to know from a man's perspective...do you find her pretty?"

Willie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating his answer earnestly. "Honestly...what did you call it again? Aye, my discerning taste. My discerning taste thinks ye are prettier."

"Of course, you'll say that. Why did I even bother asking?" She pulled the satchel from her feet and hitched it over on her shoulder. "You coming in?"

"Aye, but I need to make a few phone calls. Ye go ahead and save a scone for me." Before she could get out of the car, he stopped her. "Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"I love ye."

Claire smiled. "Ditto."

Walking up to the house, she couldn't help but think how much Willie, looked like Jamie when he said I love you.

..........

She was about to open the entrance door when it was unceremoniously flung opened, and Jamie grabbed her wrist. She let out a squeak as he dragged her inside, slinging his forearm against her arse to draw her up onto her toes. Smiling and without saying a word, he walked her back towards the wall of the hallway, his beautiful soul-sucking blue looking intently into her eyes. Tangling a hand in Claire's hair, he tongued her lips open, laughing softly when she gasped, before sinking them both to a kiss. Slowly, Jamie moulded their bodies together against the wall, his lips travelling along her jawline before nuzzling her ear. "Hmm, I was expecting my girlfriend to meet me at the airport this morning. I wonder what kept her away?" He pulled back an inch to tuck her hair behind her ear. "So what's happening inside that pretty head of yers?"

Whatever doubts and worries she had, they had all dissipated. "Oh, this and that," she breathed, as she did a mental replay of their Facetime boogie from the other night, sending a kerfuffle of hormones ricochetting in her belly. "Sorry I couldn't be there to see you. I have been busy with work, you know... menus and stuff, and sourcing new vendors for some of the new dishes. Did you know there's a convention booked already a week after the re-opening?" she whispered, running her palms on his abdomen. It wasn't a lie; nevertheless, it was a good excuse, giving her enough time to sort out her thoughts before meeting Annalise.

"I guess I have loads of catching up to do, aye?" he laughed, but the laughter quickly faded away as he searched her face. As if reading her thoughts, which was eerily most of the time, he lifted her chin with his index finger to look into her eyes. "Sassenach, ye have nothing to worry about Annalise, I hope ye know that." He ran his fingers along the seams of her mouth before brushing his lips against hers. "Christ, all I could think about is ye while I was in Paris to a point I was incapable of doing what I was supposed to do. I ken she was my girlfriend, and I can't change that...I can't change the past. I have to believe that sometimes things happen for a reason and that maybe, she was put into our paths so that we can help her. I'm not going to lie...I did care for her, but I didn't love her like the way I do ye. Ye have to trust that."

Claire gave a sharp exhale. There was no more avoiding the subject. "I know, Jamie and that's what I love most about you...you're kind and compassionate that way. See...this relationship thing...I'm already sucking at it. I didn't even know that meeting you at the airport is a boyfriend-girlfriend thing."

Unable to subdue his grin, Jamie caught her full lower lip between his teeth and tugged. "Let's see...ye can make it up for me later, perhaps? In our house? I ken your place is more comfortable, but I don't think I want Geillis hearing all the sounds that you make when I make love to ye."

Her heart started to sprint. "Oh! Our house is it? And you know, you do talk a lot of rubbish...I hardly make any sounds," she giggled.

"Aye, it's our house, and aye, ye do make a lot of sounds. Plenty of adorable sounds, like this..." With a wink, he gave her a look of debauchery, sliding one arm beneath her arse to boost her up and one free hand palming her breast. He chuckled under his breath when she let out a moan. "...and I haven't even started yet."

Her gulp was audible as crimson climbed up her throat, and not really wanting to, she gently pushed him away. "Jamie put me down now. Ma and da can walk in on us any minute." She could hear voices in the kitchen and teacups clacking on saucers. "Let's go meet your other bird, huh?" Best get it over and done with.

Smiling, he allowed his head to collapse on the crook of her neck, heavily breathing in her scent. "Aye...can't be helped. Missed ye so bad, Sassenach," he murmured huskily, lightly fisting his hand on the wall above Claire's head. Pressing his lips against her forehead, he half-heartedly stood upright, not quite ready to let her go yet. "Right, are we good?"

She nodded and took his hand as Jamie guided her towards the staircase. "So what did ma and da say? Have they met Annalise?"

"Aye, they've met over breakfast. Ye ken what they're like, the house is open to anybody and everybody. I haven't really spoken to them yet as I was too preoccupied looking out the window waiting for ye to arrive," he said in an amused tone.

"Why are we heading upstairs? I thought she was in the kitchen," she asked, looking towards the kitchen they passed.

"She was exhausted earlier and needed to lie down. She must be awake now, but I dinna ken which room she took. Ma did say to take her pick of the empty rooms."

"She's probably in Geillis' room," Claire mumbled, pulling her hand away from Jamie's to smooth back her hair.

"Hey..." Halfway up the stairs, he turned to face her, reaching out to gently rubbed the pad of his thumb on her cheeks. "...just saying, ok? If there's anything troubling ye, anything at all, ye ken ye can talk to me, aye? We're together now, and ye best get used to it, really fast." He leaned forward to rub his nose against hers. "It's a boyfriend-girlfriend thing, ye ken... in case ye didn't get the memo." He winked, before taking her hand once again in his and pulling her up the stairs.

"Yeah, got it!" she replied but stopped on her tracks when they reached the landing. Further down the hallway, she saw her books neatly stacked outside her old room, and on top of the pile was her dreamcatcher which use to hang above her bed. It was a gift from her uncle Lamb's friend. "Oh, I guess she's not taking the guest room."

Jamie squeezed her shoulders, obviously surprised as her. "Och, sorry Sassenach, I didnae realised. Dinna fash, I'll tell her to use the other room, and I'll put back the books on your shelves..."

Claire grabbed his arm. "No, Jamie, it's alright. I have a place of my own now, and really, it's silly to keep a room here when I don't really need it. She can have it."

"Are ye sure? It shouldn't take a few minutes and.."

"Positive," she reaffirmed, making her way to her old room. At the doorway, she squared her shoulder and gently knocked on the door, almost forgetting Jamie was stood behind her.

"Come in," a light, melodic voice with French accent answered.

Nudging the door, she let herself in to come face to face with Jamie's ex, sat on her old dressing table. Grudgingly Claire had to admit to herself, Annalise was breathtakingly beautiful, and the lack of hair didn't diminish that beauty. In fact, it enhanced her big cornflower blue eyes and delicately shaped eyebrows. With the sunlight streaming from the window behind her, she looked like an angel, dressed in her... what? Claire's eyes widened when she realised, Annalise was wearing her green wrap-around dress. "Oh, hi...I'm Claire," she said warmly as she stepped forward to shake her hand.

Instead of taking her hand, Annalise stood up and gave her a tight hug and Claire couldn't help but notice, Jamie's ex was wearing the same perfume as her. "So lovely to finally meet you, Claire. I have been so much looking forward to this," she gushed, her voice so soft, it reminded her of a child's. Returning to her chair, she gestured towards the bed. "Please, take a seat." Pausing, she smiled sweetly. "I only realised recently that you and Jamie are together. I would have never guessed as he spoke so fondly and so much of you that he gave me an impression you were siblings. Well, congratulations are in order...both of you make a perfect couple."

Jamie coughed a thank you , and Claire, instead of sitting down, glanced around her old room, noticing some visible changes had taken place already. Her poster of the world map was taken down for one. "Thank you. I see you've made yourself at home, and that dress looks lovely on you."

"Oh..." Annalise looked down, her expression changing into mortification. "I'm so sorry, Claire. I was making room in the wardrobe, and I saw this hanging. It's so pretty that I had to try it on. I'll take it off now..."

"No, it's alright, really. Keep it, it's yours. The dress becomes you, and I haven't worn it in ages. I will take the rest of my things now, so you have more room. The sooner you're settled, the better." Claire knew she was rambling, but she felt she needed to move.

"There's no rush, Claire but if you must I can help you..." Annalise's voice trailed off as Claire dismissed her suggestion with a wave of a hand, picking up the rest of the things to place in an empty box that was already there. Shrugging her delicate shoulders, Annalise turned her attention to Jamie. "Jamie, is it tomorrow you're taking me to see the doctor?"

"Och aye...we need to sort out yer papers at the NHS and register ye as a resident," Jamie started, one hand massaging the back of his neck.

Claire suddenly felt sorry for him being in such an awkward situation that she mentally admonished herself for pointing out the dress Annalise was wearing.

"I'll take her." It was Willie standing at the door, both his hands resting on the doorjamb. They haven't heard him walking on the creaky floorboards that they were all surprised to see him stood there. "Jamie, ye're needed in the kitchen to sort out your department in the Pattiserrie, and Murtagh needs to go over the dessert menu for a la carte with ye."

"Weel, I can do all those things tomorrow and take Annalise..."

"I'm going to drop off some papers to Ned Gowan tomorrow, and it's on the way to the Doctor's," Willie explained as a matter of factly. Turning his attention to Annalise, he smiled. "Prepare yer documents, passport and doctors' diagnosis for tomorrow. We'll need every scrap of those papers to register ye here." With that, Willie didn't wait for a reply and simply offered a perfunctory nod and turned on his heels and left.

"What the hell...hang on a minute. Ye can't just..." Jamie was already out the door following his older brother, leaving the two women to stare at each other in bewilderment.

"What just happened?" Annalise whispered, her one hand on her mouth.

"Brothers...that's what happened," Claire replied, shrugging her shoulders as she resumed gathering the last of her knick-knacks strewn in her old room. "Both stubborn as a bull, ye ken..." she explained in her best Scottish mimick.

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

0 notes

sun-summoning · 7 years

Note

SasuSaku 5 or 23? Or both if you so please ;)

5 one night stand and falling pregnant au + canon!verse

sakura misses sasuke now more than ever. she’s used to waiting for him, for longing, but she thinks that he was cruel to have shared that one night with her when he returned to the village so briefly.

he’s gone now, so sakura teaches herself how to be alone all over again.

ii.

everyone worries about her. everyone always worries about her. you’re working too hard, you’re working too often, maybe consider taking a break. but she’s fine. there are people to heal, children to save, innovations to make, people to train, antidotes to concoct–

she remembers sasuke leaving again and then planning. writing funding proposals, creating new techniques, reworking the medical ninja training process, healing everyone, healing everyone, but never really healing herself. sakura is hard-working by nature but eventually it occurs to her that maybe she’s been working a little too hard because somehow she’s twenty and she doesn’t really know where the time went.

she’s also sick. sakura doesn’t get sick. she thinks it’s just the nature of a healer, but she hasn’t gotten sick in years and so the constant nausea confuses her.

sakura doesn’t consider pregnancy until she throws up one more time and in the middle of shizune holding her hair back and wiping the sweat from her forehead, the other woman asks if that might be the case.

“what?” sakura replies, utterly dumbfounded.

shizune seems to take sakura’s confusion as a sign that pregnancy isn’t an option here, and while she muses on how this flu of hers has gone on a little too long, sakura begins to understand.

iii.

sakura goes on a leave. she pulls her name from the mission roster and quits her role at the hospital. she tells her parents she’s going to take an apprenticeship with a poisons master in wind country and tells naruto and ino she just needs a change of scenery. kakashi takes her bullshit with a grain of salt but lets her go and when she stops to see tsunade and shizune, they quiz her on prenatal care knowledge she’s had since she was thirteen.

sakura is pregnant with sasuke’s child and she doesn’t really know what to do about it, but she does know that konoha is not the place for her right now. not when she doesn’t know what to do.

her parents will pry and people will gossip and naruto will tell sasuke in an instant.

she’s very fortunate that people all over the world feel indebted to her. as such, it’s not that hard for sakura to find places to stay along her road to understanding. it’s a week here and a few days there and eventually she sees a wealthy older couple whose granddaughter sakura healed many years ago and after reminiscing and a brief discussion of her “condition,” they offer sakura a small cabin of theirs in the south, which sakura agrees too a little too eagerly.

in her mind she has a few options:

option one, she tells sasuke immediately. maybe he marries her. maybe they raise this child together.

option two, she does this alone. she goes back with her tail between her legs and admits to her parents that this happened and then she carries this baby to term and has it and continues on as always sans the major lifestyle changes that usually come along with motherhood. naruto would tell sasuke, kakashi would tell sasuke, but sakura knows how sasuke thinks. he would take the fact that she didn’t tell him herself as a message in itself: we don’t want you in our lives. and if sakura knows the man he’s become, he would respect that.

option three, she disappears. she does this alone but she as sakura haruno dies in this cabin and it becomes a new woman and a new baby forever. this option is so melodramatic though, she thinks. in times of peace, this feels like a silly thought.

she knows what she needs to do, but she can’t bring herself to contact sasuke. she’s being selfish, she thinks, keeping this from him, but how can she not be?

sakura curls into her new bed and rubs her belly.

nobody wants to be rejected.

iv.

one day she’s washing her clothes in the stream nearby when across the water, she feels someone approaching. she has no weapon on her, but she’s a weapon herself and she isn’t afraid. sakura shifts so she might stand and when she looks up, she sees sasuke.

her hands clench around the garments in her grip. “sasuke-kun,” she whispers.

sasuke crosses the stream, carefully manoeuvring over the slippery rocks. “sakura,” he greets when he stands before her.

“what are you doing here?”

“kakashi asked me to check on you.”

sakura raises an eyebrow. “since when do you listen to the hokage’s orders?”

but sasuke winces when he remembers that as well because once upon a time, he ignored the hokage’s orders and so sakura got kidnapped.

“you know when,” he mutters.

sasuke reaches for the items in her arms, probably intending to hold them for her in some silly act of chivalry, but sakura pulls them closer. they dampen her clothes but his presence makes her painfully aware of her growing body.

“let me help you,” he insists.

“i’m fine,” she replies. she smiles at him, hoping that it will cease his pushing, and eventually it does. sakura begins walking back to the cabin and sasuke follows. “but really – what are you doing here?”

“kakashi asked me to check on you,” he repeats.

“why?”

sasuke shrugs. “he was worried. said you left in a hurry and it was suspicious.” he cocks his head and stares down at her. “is there something you’re hiding, sakura?”

sakura laughs and ignores the question.

they reach the cabin and sakura goes inside. sasuke lingers by the door though, looking wary and unsure.

“stay with me,” sakura requests.

“for a bit,” he decides.

he stays with her for a little over a week and it feels so perfect and domestic that sakura hates it.

she’s fairly good at keeping her secret. she wears baggier clothes, hides behind furniture, turns her body in particular ways. it isn’t until one night when sasuke finally kisses her, his trembling fingers sliding over her hips, that he feels like something is different.

he takes a step back to look at her and sakura makes no effort to hide any longer.

“you’re…”

“i’m pregnant.”

vi.

he won’t leave her side. can’t, won’t, never ever will. if sasuke is upset about her omission, he certainly doesn’t show it. he touches her and rubs her belly and sometimes she thinks he’s smiling down at her, at them.

sasuke is on a mission though and this quiet bliss in the woods cannot last.

“come with me,” he asks.

and sakura would follow him anywhere, so she does.

they marry in a quiet ceremony and sasuke drags her to one uchiha stronghold in particular soon after. when they spend the night there, sasuke pulls out a ring and slips it on her finger.

vii.

sasuke looks so startled the first time he feels the baby kick. his eyes are wide with his wonder and his lips are slightly parted. he leans in a little bit closer, presses his hand against her a bit firmer, as if begging their baby to show him how strong she is one more time.

viii.

she assumes sasuke must have told kakashi in his latest report because soon a fragment of katsuyu appears to sakura with an angry letter from her mother. sakura grimaces because she’d left a scroll and a vial of blood and told her mother that this was only ever to be used for emergencies.

she asks him why and he asks her the same question.

“what do you mean?”

“why did you leave konoha?” sasuke questions. “no. that’s not what i care about. why didn’t you come to me? why didn’t you tell me right away?”

“sasuke-kun–”

“you were five-months pregnant when i found out myself. you didn’t even really tell me.”

“i don’t know!” sakura shouts. she rubs her baby bump because it’s silly but she thinks it gives her strength. “i was–i was scared! you just…” she bites her lip. “you left, sasuke-kun. i felt silly because i thought maybe you wanted to be with me and then–then…then you just left again. and it hurt. and i was scared so i ran away so i wouldn’t have to tell anyone what happened.” sakura takes a deep breath and has to sit down because her feet are hurting and the stress isn’t helping all the other aches in her body. “i was worried you would think that it was a mistake. that…you wouldn’t want us.”

sasuke sits beside her. his hand falls into her lap and he twines his fingers through hers.

“i was afraid,” he whispers. “that night–that morning. when i woke up and i saw you…” he laughs but he sounds terribly sad. “i realized how important you are to me and,” he shrugs, “it frightened me.”

“it’s okay to be scared.”

sasuke squeezes her hand and although it hurts, sakura does nothing to pull away. “i can’t lose you,” he admits. “not you.”

he’s shaking, so sakura uses her free hand to turn his head to face her. she looks at him warmly, lovingly, and she leans in to kiss him.

“i love you, sasuke-kun,” she murmurs against his lips.

he returns the sentiment and she smiles.

ix.

sakura intended to give birth in konoha, but nothing ever seems to work the way she wants it because they’re midway through their journey when her water breaks.

sakura begins to curse and begins to panic a little bit, because she knows where they are and they’re in the middle of nowhere. she runs through the options in her head and honestly, squatting in a field will probably be what she has to do because again, they’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.

she still has time, but in that moment she feels like it’s only enough time to pick the right spot for squatting.

sasuke shakes his head though and takes her hand.

“you’re not squatting in a field, you idiot.”

“fuck you!”

“come on,” he says, helping her along. “i know a medic in this area.”

he’s patient and he’s gentle and he looks like he’s contemplating summoning his susanoo to help support her in this moment. sakura doesn’t ask questions, too busy thinking about what’s to come.

sasuke guides her forward and sakura knows she’ll follow him anywhere.

#10cent-city #fic #sasusaku

225 notes · View notes

fantisci · 7 years

Text

A “Story of Seasons” gripe to break the silence...

I don’t generally look for my Story of Seasons (formerly Harvest Moon) games to be feminist breakthroughs, but for some reason the most recent Trio of Towns is really getting on my nerves in regard to stereotypes and sexism.

The HM/SoS games have always had some outdated ideas, from the good old “any woman over the age of 25 who is unmarried has been left on the shelf, will forever be alone and has generally Failed at Life” being one, the much more disturbing (and weirdly prevalent) “if you smile at / look at / talk to a man like that, he’ll get the wrong idea” (thanks, Harvest Moon, just what I needed in my farming simulation games: the oblique threat of sexual assault along with victim blaming. Great). However, a lot can be neutralised by the fact that you’re pretty much free to project a personality onto your character, even though your potential responses are so limited that they’ll generally be A Good Guy / A Nice Girl unless you want to see your relationship values plummet.

So why is Trio so determined to make my character - a young woman who defied her family in order to go it alone, restoring a long-abandoned farm and turning it into a successful business venture - lose absolutely all of her competence, maturity and common sense in some of the love events?

Rest under the cut for spoiler, grumbling and dashboard-protecting purposes...

EDIT: Added a bit more to this on the heels of a really good message from a kind Anon.

Let’s have a look at the three Love Events that you can do for the main bachelors - the ones you can see before having to “confess” and therefore commit to their relationship path:

Ludus:

Ludus is the worst offender for this. I know it plays into his “big brother of the town” thing, but it’s hugely annoying when your farmer’s IQ nosedives every time a love event is triggered. Before I played the game, he was the candidate I thought I’d start out with...but who wants to be lectured by a romantic partner every minute of the day?

Event 1: Oh no! My door won’t open! Months of building and farmwork did not prepare me to fix a broken hinge! Manly Ludus will have to fix it for me! (Note: you are actually given the option to kick the door or try to fix it, only to be told that you are too weak or too incompetent to do it yourself. And remember that Ludus requires you assistance every time something substantial is built on the farm).

Event 2: Oh no! Kitty is stuck on a cliff! I must rescue it...but lookie, I’m too cute and clumsy to avoid falling off the ledge! Manly Ludus will have to rescue me, and then lecture me about doing stupid stuff like this. And of course, the cat was fine all along, so now I look like an idiot.

Event 3: I’m watching Ludus build a chair, and it ends with me being given the aforementioned “you’re going to lead me astray when you say things like that!” speech.

EDIT: Out of curiosity, I loaded my old save (pre-commitment with any bachelor) and had a look at Ludus’ confession, where he admits that he was out of line in Event 3 and apologises. Which is nice, but doesn’t eliminate the weird bossy-older-sibling vibe.

Ford:

Event 1: Oh no! Doctor Ford hasn’t eaten! I must fulfil my feminine duty and make him something immediately, because it’s too hard for him to walk the ten metres to the restaurant he always eats at! (This is harmless in itself, since everybody feeds everybody else in this game, but Ford’s “I’m too weak to walk to the restaurant three doors down from me in this tiny town” is pretty ridiculous, and it certainly adds to the pattern of stereotypically “feminine” roles).

Event 2: Oh no! I’ve passed out from exhaustion and get lectured on taking care of myself! Then I need to hold the doctor’s hand in order to fall asleep. (I quite liked how this one tied in with the stamina mechanic, but was really irritated that it triggered as I was heading to the restaurant!)

Event 3: Don’t drink the coffee. Other than that, nothing to see here!

Hinata:

Event 1: Oh no! Hinata warned me that ghost story night could be scary and that I better go home, but silly li’l me just had stay and listen! Now I’m too frightened to go home alone, and big, manly Hinata has to comfort me and escort me back to the farm!

This is the only event of Hinata’s that annoyed me, but it was the event that drew my attention to the fact that my player character was being given uber-”feminine” weaknesses. Look, everyone has their weaknesses, but if you maintain that the character is a blank slate, at least let the player assign that weakness to them instead of assuming “woman=scared of ghosts” and railroad me into it. Notably, there isn’t any player choice in this event - it’s one big cutscene. And Hinata looks like he’s twelve years old, so I don’t think he’ll be much use if Freddy Krueger pops up. Who would you back in a fight - the baby-face merchant/actor, or the farmer who does manual labour for a living?

EDIT: As Anon mentioned, Hinata, like Wayne, has a “GASP! FARMING IS TOO TOUGH FOR SUCH A CUTE GIRL!” thing at the start.

Wayne:

Wayne’s events are actually pretty nice - he respects your character’s job as a farmer, plays pranks with the kids in his town while reminding them not to take it too far, and goes stargazing with you. Once you’re an item, he fetches a loudhailer to announce how much he loves you to the world - including his fangirls, who he gently warns to back off. A nice change of pace after your character’s “I’m jealous because you’re a flirt” reaction in Raeger’s Flower Events in the game before. I ended up choosing Wayne in my first save file because he didn’t seem hell-bent on making my character look like she had the common sense and ability of a toddler.

EDIT: As pointed out to me by an Anon, Wayne’s lines BEFORE building a relationship with you aren’t exactly hallmarks of equal opportunity. Wayne “respects” women in an old-fashioned, chivalrous way...which isn’t really respect at all, as it focuses on calling them pretty, “protecting” them from the realities of the world, and being charming and gracious while making no promises. Initially, his attitude is one of “what do you mean, a pretty li’l thing like you doers a tough job like farmwork?” His flower events see him improve in this respect - the first one is when he visits you at your farm and comments on how happy and skilled you are at your work. Even if you don’t romance him, his green flower line is that he never thought men and women could be friends, but you’ve made him reconsider. Nonetheless, his initial views definitely reflect a certain stay-in-your-ivory-tower mindset. I’d forgotten this rather salient fact since it’s been a while since I started the game.

Yuzuki:

Like Wayne, Yuzuki’s pretty sweet - there’s a silly “GASP! A LADY’S STOMACH CANNOT POSSIBLY BE HEARD TO RUMBLE WITH HUNGER!” reaction in his first event, and there’s another event that makes it clear that you player character is ridiculously superstitious (again - fairly stereotypical “girly” trait), but you help him out with his job and fetch help when he’s in trouble, so there’s more give-and-take in your relationship with him, which makes you main character look competent instead of needing to be constantly protected from her own clumsiness.

Honorary mention: Woofio

Another game, another bizarre romance choice for the female PC while the male equivalent gets yet-another pretty girl.

All of this would be totally understandable if the male PC was equally dorky and awkward. If he tripped over his own feet, or needed to be rescued from falling into rivers and ponds, or generally had some traits that gave him canon weaknesses, all of the above would be more or less acceptable. But nope - his love events involve bailing out the bachelorettes whenever they screw up, or helping them with the jobs they’ve been doing for years, or generally working through their issues with them - in short, being the competent party. There are a couple of incidents in Siluka and Kasumi’s events where you’re suspected of doing something questionable, but the bachelorette always sticks up for you and you are vindicated. Also: shout out to Komari, whose dad, Ginjiro, demands that she be more “ladylike” and scolds her for being too “boyish” with the customers, all while Ginjiro himself acts as the most histrionic and melodramatic person in the town.

Whew! And now that I’ve vented, I feel better. I love the HM/SoS games, and there’s a lot to like in Trio - a single mother who has explicitly broken up with her partner (rather than the usual approach of “he’s dead or we never mention him”), marriages where the couple clearly adore each other (including one highly successful arranged marriage) and the broad variety of personalities. It’s just that it really struck me that my character was constantly getting so-called “girly” behaviours foisted on her, and as the player I wasn’t getting a say in how she expressed herself.

#Story of seasons #trio of towns #video games #sos:tot

6 notes · View notes