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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 22: Zombie (Voracious)

Day 22: Zombie Title: Voracious Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: Noncon, necrophilia (cause zombie), predator/prey, biting, marking, blood play, yandere Note: Thank you so much to @thewheezingwyvern who is always down to help me without batting an eye when I go “so, zombie plague...what are some good symptoms? And yes, the zombie is going to fuck you.” Also, for the love of everything that is unholy, please mind the warnings. Do not read the fic and come to me to tell me how disgusting it was. Trust me, I know. :)

Kinktober Masterlist

The country of Japan is dead. Or at least close enough that the distinction doesn’t matter.

Several months ago, an aggressive virus leaked from a quirk research facility and spread through the population like wildfire. Nobody was informed about what was going on, and nobody was warned when the virus first began to hit the cities. Officials kept it as quiet as possible, hoping to contain the spread before it got out of control. And before anyone knew how big of a mistake they had made.

But it was far too late for any sort of containment. The virus already spread fast in a lab environment, and it was even faster as it tore through an unprepared population.

The first sign of contracting the virus is tiredness and body aches. The infected simply thought they caught a minor illness, and they continued their business as usual, expecting it to go away on its own. But as the virus continues to spread through their body, the tissues start to die and they develop intense fevers and headaches. By the time the infection makes its way to the brain, confusion and outright delirium has begun to occur.

The infected are wild by this point, feral to the point of attacking, biting, and eating the uninfected. The ones who were bitten and survived had the site of their wound swell and turn agonizing to the touch, and they would suffer the same progression as the other infected.

The final stage is always the same though. Once the black rot of plague starts appearing on your skin and spreading like the branches of a tree, it’s too late.

The worst part is that the infected still have use of their quirks, and the devastation has been immense. Super powered heroes and villains with their minds rotting and decaying from infection, losing the ability to distinguish friend from foe. In some areas, the casualties were even worse from fighting than they were from the virus itself.

Somehow, you have managed to keep yourself alive and stay away from the worst in-fighting and the areas with the highest concentration of infected. Still though, it is a surprise to you. You’re simply a quirkless nobody with no way to defend yourself.

You have seen so many better, stronger people die right in front of you, leaving you forced to continue on alone.

You sigh as you scavenge through an old building that was once a store, looking for more supplies. Yours are dangerously low, and your dry mouth and grumbling stomach tells you that you need to find something quickly, before you become too weak to continue on.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear the banging of items hitting the ground from deeper within the store. It might be survivors, or it might be the infected. The thought briefly occurs to you that you need to check to make sure, but you quickly shake it away.

Survivors or not, you didn’t come this far by being careless. But as you inch quietly towards the exit, you see a flash of red eyes from within the darkness as something emerges.

No, not something. Someone.

One of the infected.

It’s clear that he’s in the late stages of infection, the black rot spreading out through his body, but most notably his left leg which he drags limply. He’s wearing what are essentially black rags that flow out from behind him, leaving his chest bare so that you can see more of the black spiderwebs of rot twining outwards.

His eyes zoom in on you, narrowing slightly as you stand there frozen in fear. Neither of you moves for what feels like hours, but is really mere seconds. You break out of your trance first, turning on your heel and running for the door. The infected pursues you instantly, jumping over a table rather than running around it to save time. The move is a sign of intelligence that instantly fills you with dread. By this stage, the infected are usually too confused and delirious to remember such things.

You make it to the door with him hot on your heels. You’ve always considered yourself a fast runner, especially lately, but this is an entirely different story. He’s fast, too fast. The infected are not supposed to be like this, especially not with a bad leg. But yet he is quickly catching up to you as you dart through streets you know so well.

You realize that your only chance is to lose him somehow, as you’re never going to be able to outrun him. Your breath is coming in harsh pants already, a stitch burning in your side as you make a sharp, desperate right turn into an alleyway.

An alleyway with a dead end.

This area was clear just a week ago, but now it looks like an infected hero or villain used their quirk to collapse both buildings in the area, causing massive chunks of cement and debris to block the road out. There is no way to climb over the rubble and no handholds or stairs to use to climb up the buildings. You’re completely trapped.

You whirl around quickly, hoping to get out before the infected catches up with you. But you’re too late. He’s already standing at the entrance of the alley, staring you down with heated red eyes. A sharp burst of awareness fills you as you realize exactly who this is. The leader of the League of Villains, Shigaraki Tomura, whose whereabouts have been speculated on for weeks along with the rest of his villain group.

No wonder he’s so fast and so dangerous. The infected retain some level of awareness and ability from the time before, and Shigaraki was one of the most deadly villains in the country.

And if the way he’s acting towards you is any indication, he still is.

You take a step back. He takes a step forward. Another step back. Another step forward. You scan through your chances of getting out of this alive and uninfected, but your mind comes up with nothing.

Your back hits a wall abruptly, and in your split second distraction, the infected is on you. You’re pulled roughly to the ground, hands barely breaking your fall as you land on your front. This is it, you think to yourself, I’m about to be eaten. All this time of running away, of watching people you care about die, all for nothing.

You can’t stop yourself from trembling as you try to brace for the pain of being devoured. But instead, he leans down and buries his face into your neck, sniffing the skin deeply as he pushes your body further onto the ground. His hips are bucking against the curve of your ass, and with dawning horror, you realize exactly what the hard bulge in his pants is.

He grabs your pants and you watch as decay overtakes them and dissolves them into ash. He decays your shirt and bra next, leaving you bare from the waist up and shivering from the cold of his body pressed against you. You’re too scared to move, too scared to do anything.

But when he reaches for your panties, that’s when your paralysis finally breaks and fear takes over. You try to lift yourself up from the ground to run, only to hear a snarl as teeth sink into the flesh of your neck.

You go limp with a choked sob, losing any and all desire to try and get away. It’s all over now. That one single moment has doomed you to infection and madness. The pain of the bite is nothing compared to the despair you feel.

He lets out a pleased hum at your sudden obedience, pulling your panties aside as you feel something cold and hard prodding at your entrance. You barely have time to comprehend what’s happening before your pussy is filled with one sharp thrust of the creature’s hips. The infected aren’t supposed to do this, aren’t supposed to have these urges, you think wildly to yourself. This can’t be happening, it’s not possible.. But it is happening. You’re being taken by this creature like a wild animal in a back alley.

And then he is moving, hips slapping against your ass as his throbbing length pounds into you. There is no gentleness, no precision, just deep, feral thrusts that have you unwillingly clenching. He’s thicker than you’re used to, and the pain of your muscles stretching around him causes you to whine from the back of your throat.

This shouldn’t feel good. You should be horrified, disgusted. You should be fighting tooth and nail to get away, even though it’s hopeless since you’re already infected. But the cold of his cock pressing against your warm walls has your head spinning from the contrast.

He hits a soft, spongy spot inside of you, and you let out a squeal as your stomach tightens. The teeth are removed from your neck, only to bite down in another spot on the other side. He ruthlessly breaks skin, causing blood to run down your front and drip onto the pavement below.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, everything so overly sensitive as his cock forces your walls to stretch open even further as he gets rougher. The hands gripping your hips feel warmer than they were before, fingers digging hard enough into your skin to create bruises. The grunts and groans leaving his throat are positively lewd, and he takes his mouth away only to bite down in between your shoulder blades.

Your scream echoes through the alley as the teeth penetrate flesh, his tongue lapping at the bite and taking deep swallows of your blood. You try to imagine yourself somewhere else, anywhere else so that you don’t think of the pressure building up inside of you and the pain from the throbbing bites now decorating you.

Your nails dig hard into the cement below you as you try to ground yourself and ignore what’s happening, but Shigaraki doesn’t seem to appreciate that at all. He smacks his hand hard against your ass, keeping his pinky raised delicately off your skin in a way that has you worried about his level of awareness.

Now that your attention is firmly back on him, he bites the back of your neck, and you can’t stop the howl that leaves your throat when you feel your skin break, or the orgasm that wracks your body as you feel blood trail down the column of your neck and down in between your breasts.

Tears run down your face as humiliation burns through you, the shame of cumming around this infected villain’s cock almost too much to bear. Almost worse than the fact that you’ll soon be just like him.

“M-m-m - “

Your eyes widen as you glance behind you, seeing the infected concentrating hard as he tries to get words out. He’s stopped thrusting, as if he’s trying to focus entirely on whatever he wants to say. As he opens his mouth, you see his teeth stained with your blood and the sight shoots straight to your core.

“M-m-mine,” he finally manages to stutter out, “mine.” He forces your head down onto the pavement as he begins to ruthlessly pound into you. The infected don’t speak, they’re not supposed to speak -

“Mine,” he snarls, almost as if he heard your thoughts and is trying to prove you wrong.

You’re oversensitive and wet from your previous orgasm, allowing him to fuck you deeply, hitting your cervix with every thrust. You can feel your pussy dripping your juices all over his cock, and the wet squelching noises that fill the alleyway has you shaking with embarrassment.

“Mine, mine mine,” he chants as he bites again and again, each time pausing long enough to take gulps of your blood. Your head is spinning, lightheadedness from blood loss overtaking you. The ground below you has puddles of your own blood where it drips down, and you briefly think that maybe you really will be eaten right here and now instead of being infected and left to wander.

His hand comes in between your bodies to stroke tight circles against your swollen clit as he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Mine,” he whispers darkly. “Why else would I stumble across the cure for the plague if you weren’t meant to be mine?”

Cure for the plague? That’s not possible, there’s no cure for the plague, and you’re completely quirkless -

He bites down one last time, sinking his teeth into the back of your neck and holding you there like a dog refusing to let go of a bone. You realize why immediately when he groans into your heated skin, warmth spreading through your core as he shoots hot ropes of cum directly against your cervix. The pain of his teeth buried into your flesh has you thrown over the edge as well, legs trembling and eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He removes his teeth from your neck once he’s emptied himself inside of you, letting you go as you collapse onto the ground. You roll over enough to meet his eyes, seeing sharp intelligence and contemplation. The black rot is quickly disappearing, color returning to his skin. Within no time at all, you can no longer tell he was ever infected.

“How - I don’t - I’m quirkless - “

“No, you’re not.” He states it matter of factly, as if it was already known. “You have a quirk, it just didn’t have a purpose until the plague. Your blood carries the cure.”

You consider everything that happened, realizing that the more blood he drank, the more human he seemed. The faster the infection was being cured. He snorts at the look of disbelief and then understanding on your face. “With you on my side, I can remake society exactly the way that I want.”

“I am not on your fucking side! You’re a villain who just - “ You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, but Shigaraki has no issues doing it for you.

“A villain who just fucked you and got you off? Such a dirty girl, getting off around infected cock.”

Your face heats up and you instantly glance away, drawing another chuckle from his throat. “I won’t help you,” you say stubbornly, ignoring his previous words.

“Who said I was giving you a choice?” His fingers dig into your arm as he pulls you off the ground. “You belong to me now, and I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you. Just think about the power I have now. I control who stays infected and who gets cured. No more hero society.” His voice has taken on an excited, almost manic tone as he considers the possibilities.

“Are you - are you going to let them do what you just did?” You whisper quietly, a single tear running down your face at being used the same way by other people.

He instantly scowls at you. “Of course not.”

You perk up just a bit, until you hear his next words.

“I’ll let you be a blood bag, but for everything else - you’re mine. And I don’t like to share.” He begins to drag you back the way that you came, walking with purpose.

“Now come along. We have so much work to do.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main

#kinktober 2020 #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere mha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #bnha kinktober #mha kinktober #tw: noncon #tw: necro #tw: blood play

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

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Alright, chapter 133 of SnK!

I’ve got a few things I want to talk about here.

One of the things that always strikes me about Levi as a character, indeed, one of his defining character traits, is his coolness under pressure. His calm demeanor, no matter the circumstances. One of the interesting things to go into is WHY Levi is like this.

We see it particularly exemplified in this chapter, I think, and there’s a few examples. For one, they’ve all just lost Hange as their friend and Commander, and this loss particularly impacts and affects Levi, since he was closer with Hange than any of them. But rather than allowing his grief to consume and paralyze him, Levi immediately begins trying to contribute when Armin says he wants to go over the plan, bringing up Hange’s theory about Zeke and how killing him might stop the Rumbling, etc... Then Eren transports them to Paths, and everyone reacts with shock and awe, except Levi, who’s expression is duly unimpressed and unsurprised. We see this from Levi throughout the series, of course. Situations that present themselves, new and frightening circumstances which throw everyone for a loop and send people into panic, Levi reacts to with calm collectedness, a distinct LACK of surprise or fear. He really does stand in sharp contrast with everyone else in this situation. Everyone there is a seasoned war veteran, at this point, they’ve all been through and seen some truly horrific things. But they still react with a kind of frantic uncertainty here. They then begin to plead with Eren, Armin and the rest trying to convince him through any means possible, to stop the Rumbling. They try to bargain with him, show him empathy, make promises, etc... They make their desperation obvious by saying whatever they think will appeal to Eren. Levi is the only one who, I think, is fully honest here. He tells Eren that if he stops now, he’ll let him off with JUST an ass-kicking. Levi doesn’t try to placate Eren, or show him sympathy, or empathy, he doesn’t try to be gentle or handle Eren with kid gloves. He tells him flat out he’s going to beat his ass for what he’s done, but he’ll show him some leniency for stopping by not killing him outright. The thing is, I think Levi’s known from the start of this whole disaster that talking to Eren wasn’t going to work. Everyone else was holding out hope that if they could just speak with Eren, he would stop, that they could convince him through words. But like I talked about in my last post, Levi is someone who’s just seen and experienced too much of life’s brutality and unfairness to blind himself to bleak reality. When the 104th goes running off after Eren appears to them, to try and reach him, Levi just sits down in the sand and has that resigned expression once more, and his expression continues to show a total lack of surprise when Eren puts the 104th back where they started, before they could ever even get close. Levi isn’t surprised, or even dismayed, I don’t think, at Eren’s refusal to talk, because I think he always knew he wouldn’t be willing to. That he wouldn’t be interested in hearing anyone’s pleas or promises. I think Levi always knew Eren was hellbent on this course of action, and it was more or less hopeless, trying to appeal to him. And once again, I have to restate, I think it’s because Levi’s just experienced too much hardship in his life to cling to false hopes. He’s world-weary and in many ways a realist, someone not given to delusion or fancy.

I feel like Levi probably glimpsed this uncompromising, hellish bent in Eren back in Liberio, his mercenary compulsion to follow through on whatever plan he had, which is why Levi was so disgusted by him on the airship back then. He saw a lack of mercy in Eren, and it reminded him of the brutes Levi grew up with in the Underground. Not just a willingness, but a desire to take from others to satisfy himself. It’s why, when they’re all transported back to the plane, while everyone else looks horrified and in shock at Eren’s refusal to talk, Levi looks as unflustered as ever, and states with a matter of fact tone that negotiations are over, before asking Armin what it is they do now. None of this is surprising to Levi.

Levi’s look of despair throughout this final arc continues to strike me as his resignation in the ugliness of humanity and the useless, pointless suffering they inflict on one another. He’s depressed, and disappointed, because everything happening around them is only a confirmation of all the worst things Levi saw and experienced, growing up.

All this ties into another point I want to discuss, which is Levi’s relationship with Jean, actually. I’ve found the relationship between the two of them really interesting since way back in the Uprising arc, when Jean was the most vocal in condemning Levi for his violence, declaring with certainty that he would never kill another person. Jean is disabused of his moralistic superiority not long after that, when he learns first hand the consequences of sticking to ones morals uncompromisingly, nearly losing his life, and forcing Armin to take a life for him. And it’s Jean who we see, again and again from that point on in the series, grappling with and coming to terms with this difficult lesson. We see Jean’s respect for Levi, and his understanding towards Levi, grow greatly, after this incident, and Jean himself having to grow, to change and accept that sacrifices are inevitable if one wishes to protect the things and people they care about. That sometimes even one’s own comfort and moral convictions are necessary sacrifices to achieve those things.

Levi tells everyone that he’ll take care of Zeke, but admits that he’ll need all of their help to get the job done. I feel like this is Levi, once again, asking if all of them are ready and willing to get their hands dirty, just like he did before they raided the Cavern underneath the Church on the Reiss property. He knows he can’t do this job by himself (which is just further testament to Levi’s strength of character, an ability to admit to weakness), but he wants to make sure everyone else is alright with plunging in to a situation in which they’re going to be forced to kill. Jean is the first to answer, telling Levi and all of them that he’s not going to let the sacrifices they’ve already made, the people they’ve killed in order to get where they are, be in vain, and that he’ll do whatever it takes to stop the Rumbling. This shows incredible character growth on Jean’s part. He went from someone who claimed that he would, under no circumstances, take another human life, to someone who declares that he’ll do whatever it takes in order to stop the Rumbling, to achieve a greater good. And I think this growth on Jean’s part ties directly into his relationship with and the influence of Levi. Levi never judged Jean for being uncomfortable with killing, never criticized or scolded him for it. He even told Jean that he couldn’t say, one way or the other whether Jean’s beliefs were right or wrong. That Levi himself didn’t know the answer to that. He never tried to convince Jean of anything. He just told him the truth. That his failure to kill had put the lives of his comrades in danger, including his own, and that it also caused Armin to have to bear the burden of killing another, one which should have been Jean’s own to bear. All of that is absolutely true. And it was really through this lack of judgment on Levi’s part that, I think, Jean was able to grow and expand his own views on killing, and adjust and allow for there to be circumstances in his world view which would justify taking another life. He wasn’t forced by anyone to change his views. He changed them based on experience and through Levi explaining to him that there is no definitive right or wrong answer to be found, and through Levi’s simply being honest with him. He was telling Jean that it comes down to what one is willing to sacrifice in order to protect the things and people they value. And Jean learned about himself that he’s willing and able to sacrifice more than he ever realized.

But it’s still a struggle, and something all of them, even at this point in the story, continue to battle themselves over. We see Connie struggling in particular this chapter, looking anguished over what he had to do back at the port. It’s only Levi who accepts that brutal reality of kill or be killed with a calm understanding, and I think this is probably because, unlike the rest of them, who all had peaceful, probably relatively easy and happy childhoods, without any exposure to violence or real cruelty, Levi, I think it can be safely assumed, probably took his first life while he was still a boy. And doubtless, that was due to desperate circumstances. Levi’s life has been one filled with uncertainty. Growing up in extreme poverty, he never could have known with any certainty where his next meal would come from, or when. Never knew with any certainty whether he could find proper shelter for the night, or a safe place to sleep. Never knew with any certainty whether he would be assaulted, or robbed, or if someone would attempt to take his life. Levi’s life has been one of desperation and a true, unforgiving struggle to simply survive. And so while all of his comrades have seen and experienced the horrors of war with him, none of them can know with the same level of understanding that true kind of desperation of simply trying to live day to day, that kind of awful and overwhelming uncertainty and fear of not knowing if you’ll be alive from one day to the next. It’s those kinds of experiences in life that really separate Levi from the rest of his comrades, and in a lot of ways, isolate him from them. It’s why the extremity of their circumstances and the desperation of their situation in this final arc continually shocks and overwhelms them, but Levi regards it all with his usual, if deeply saddened, calm.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #jean krischtein #snk 133 #meta #thoughts

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years

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Charity's Book Gets The Kenny Stamp of Approval (for whatever that's worth)

Charity: Thanks for the great review (and yes, do work it into an Amazon one, heh)! I'm so glad to hear that the sensor descriptions are engaging and free of "boring" stereotypes -- it KILLED me to write them, because I have so little sensory awareness. That was probably the hardest thing I had to write, since I had to come up with sights, sounds, smells, examples of full-body awareness that I have never experienced in my life. I learned a LOT while writing this book. I really loved discovering certain processes that go along with the functions -- like the whole "thought experiment" angle of TiNe users. That made me understand my INTP brother SO MUCH MORE. It always drove me nuts that he would come up with these vague, hypothetical speculations to counter another person's argument with, but now I know he is just following thought experiments. Writing about the inner workings of mechanics was also a lot of fun, but it drove home how much I do NOT use Ti. LOL I also sneakily went more 'internal' with the introverted profiles, to try and depict a richer inner world, compared with the more fast-paced energy of the extroverted profiles. So all in all, it's my Grand Accomplishment (so far) and the fact that I did it, while battling chronic depression during a pandemic makes me feel even prouder of it. Thanks for making my day by liking it!

OP: Dear Charity,

From the moment I read that paragraph of the Si dom waxing poetically about that wooden bench I knew it was gonna be gold.

I remember proofreading someone's manuscript a few years back & thinking to myself that the dominant function really comes out very clear in first-person accounts, but I guess I did't have the practical thinking or net of social contacts to turn this insight into such an useful project.

It's written in such a way that it'll likely appeal to the sort of ppl who don't normally do well with definitions & abstract distinctions & click better with the personal stories, but I think even experienced ppl who've been into the topic for a while will benefit just from how it conveys a very good, direct sense of inner experience & a glimpse of whats actually going on in other ppls heads.

I also appreciate that you didn't scrub the writeups of potentially controversial opinions of vulgarity.

Back when I first got into mbti I spent some time mulling over INTP vs. INFP, whereas if this book had been my first source that would never have happened / I would have known right away that I'm definitely not any sort of high Fi user.

A particularly useful distinction here is that while Fi sorts/ponders/analyzes impressions as building blocks for ethics or identity, these 'atomic' like/dislike impressions are not the product of any thinking or reasoning (one presumes that they come straight from the midbrain) - that is obviously very different to how Ti works.

I particularly appreciated the explacations about why inferior Se leads to being Like That (RIP my sister who has that exact "she needs to know how it looks like in advance" problem & my ex who suffered from the apparently universal Ni dom problem of Misplacing The Housekeys All The Time)

And on a level of personal curiosity I was particularly delighted that you found 1 author of each type & asked them about their process, leaving the reader to speculate about which bits might be down to each function after contrasting & comparing.

At this point mentioning that it's blissfully free of Boring Sensor Description Syndrome is almost besides the point. It's a pretty recomendable "Babys First Mbti book", as the first person stuff makes ppl very likely to come away with a correct typing with which to engage with any further material they might read.

...I realize also that I should probably rework this into an amazon review later.

Greetings,

Kendrix

#my book #submission #16 kinds of crazy

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spockandawe · 4 years

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ALSO! New webnovel rec, because I am incapable of reading the quality fanfiction my dear friend harvests and brings back home to feed our family, but am apparently perfectly capable of reading whole novels’ worth of possibly-garbage looking for something edible.

And this wasn’t garbage! I’ve been craving books that scratch the same itch as svsss basically since I finished svsss, but haven’t had much luck tracking down good stuff. Transmigration books aren’t that hard to find, or ones where the transmigrator enters a villain’s body, but I’m really a sucker for that stallion-novel-(straight)-sex-drive-turns-into-single-target-(gay)-sexuality, and finding someone who can execute that in a cute+funny way, but still with moving moments and serious emotional depth... it’s harder. And I do want something distinct from svsss. So in general, I’m still/always on the lookout, but this is the first real success I’ve found, and I like it a lot.

It’s called How To Survive As A Villain, and the premise is that a current-day mild-mannered young ceo type.... gets terminal cancer, and eventually, kills himself. Towards the end, he was reading a webnovel about a stallion novel protagonist who had been a prince, until his kingdom was attacked, his family was killed, and he was captured by the emperor of the attacking kingdom. From there, he endures lots of hardship and torture, falls in love with the emperor’s little sister, eventually escapes and returns to his kingdom, comes back up north with an army, kills the emperor, etc. Eventually he collects a huge-ass harem and unites all the kingdoms under his rule.

WELL, that emperor... is who the main character (Xiao Yu’an) becomes. And the original emperor had been young, new to the throne, hedonistic, openly gay, and..... predatory doesn’t exactly feel like the right word, but it’s not WRONG, and saying No to the emperor is a terrible idea. He’s got a whole wing of gay concubines, some of whom are much more willing to be there than others. Xiao Yu’an is not interested in using the harem in the same way as the original goods, but they’re there, and his tastes are well known, so he’s a little bit stuck with them.

The stallion novel male lead (Yan Heqing) is imprisoned, and is busy suffering away. Xiao Yu’an is a genuinely good egg, and tries to act in as much good faith as possible with everyone around him, which includes trying to do decently by Yan Heqing. However... the northern kingdom is kind of responsible for crushing the southern kingdom and the deaths of Yan Heqing’s whole family, and he is not willing to put that behind him. First notable point of compare and contrast with svsss: Yan Heqing is NOT willing to forgive mistreatment in the same way that Luo Binghe is, and... I love the svsss plot, but this kind of determined resentment was also very tasty.

And the first point of general plot divergence that I hadn’t expected! Yan Heqing tries to kill Xiao Yu’an, and Xiao Yu’an is like STOP STOP STOP, I’M NOT THE EMPEROR, I’M REALLY NOT. And Yan Heqing does not want to believe that, but Xiao Yu’an stops his guards from bursting in on this attempted murder, and is finally like ‘whatever!!!! I already died once, I don’t care anymore!! Screw it, I’m going to bed!!!!!!!!!!’

So that is the turning point for the Yan Heqing to start catching Feelings, and it seems for a while like things will be able to progress happily. But everyone knows that Yan Heqing is the imprisoned prince of an enemy country, and a lot of powerful people are VERY eager to beat him down and/or just eliminate him, and eventually, it becomes clear that he can’t stay, and Xiao Yu’an takes back the intimacy between them (’instead of calling me by name, you should call me ‘your majesty’.’) and sends him back to his home, and settles in to try to take care of his kingdom.

But the book plot presses on, and their kingdom is destined to be defeated in the end. And it was surprisingly sad to read, because a lot of good people try really hard to make things work. And in the end, Xiao Yu’an goes to surrender himself to the approaching army. And oh my god, the MISUNDERSTANDINGS in this book. I do sometimes get impatient with misunderstandings as a plot point, because ‘just! talk!!!!!!!!’ but this book has done a LOVELY job with continually adding new inputs that change the situation without allowing them to sort things out. Both of them think the other one despises him (Xiao Yu’an: of course he hates the ruler of the nation that crushed his home) (Yan Heqing: of course he hates the leader of the army in the process of crushing his home) and Xiao Yu’an eventually makes his escape to a quiet mountain town to live a quiet mountain life while thinking that if Yan Heqing sees him again, he’s definitely going to be killed horribly :’)

The translation isn’t done yet, and I’m wrestling with whether or not I’m desperate enough for mtl or not. The main character is really funny at times, and makes jokes about marxism and management and things that I doubt the mtl has any hope of translating well, but also........... the two leads have just been reunited after a long separation, there is a LOT of heartsickness and pining, fresh misunderstandings, and SO MUCH HEARTSICKNESS! The novelupdates summary was like ‘A takes care of B, and then B takes care of A’, and I’m so impatient for Yan Heqing to start taking care of and protecting Xiao Yu’an. He wants to dote on him so BADLY, and was COMPLETELY rattled the first time he realized he’d been reunited with Xiao Yu’an again.

And also........ I love mxtx, don’t love the way that she is like ‘yeah, only the two leads are gay, everyone else is str8, except for moshang’, and this book is DEFINITELY not doing that same thing. There are pair of EXCELLENT girlfriends who just got married, and I am definitely shaming the boys for not being even a FRACTION as competent as these ladies are. There’s another side couple that genuinely made me gasp with how sweet they are. And the main character is oblivious when it comes to his own self (though it is established in that in his previous life, he was never able to pin down his own sexuality), but he’s so supportive of everyone else. He falls into very sqq-esque traps of ‘oh, this girl is for the male lead, and nobody else’ and misses the way she’s clearly pining for a lady, but once he does catch a clue, he’s so good!

About half the book is done, and there are some INTERESTING dangling plot threads that I have to assume will come up again, but I have no idea in what capacity. At this point in the original canon, the main character’s First True Love had died, and he kinda fell apart and threw himself into harem-building shenanigans, but we’re past that point in the story now and while the PLOT-plot is moving in approximately the same direction, the emotional plot is completely different. And Yan Heqing has... pretty much made his smooching intentions clear, though we still have to see Xiao Yu’an is going to stop to process that, or if he’s still going to be stuck in panic mode that Yan Heqing wants to torture him. He’s got valid reasons for those worries, even outside just ‘ummm, i read the book’, but Yan Heqing is DESPERATELY devoted now, and I need the translator to translate more, right away, blease, I’m desperate ;u;

#how to survive as a villain #i don't want to *just* compare it to svsss #because it's a very different beast in the end #but i arrived here because of svsss cravings #which makes it a very convenient way to talk about the book #and it goes down so smooth and easy #i love it a lot #suicide mention/

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starship-imzadi · 3 years

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S5 E12 Violations

This opening immediately brings to mind the "repressed memories" craze in psychology in the 1980's and 1990's. The "fad" has since become regarded as incredibly harmful and dangerous as human memory can be quite malleable and undependable. A lot of people were treated to believe they had repressed memories of horrible abuse and sexual trauma in their childhoods, made horrible accusations, for events that never actually happened. Not only do these fabrication create real trauma and ruin relationships, they also delegitimize the actual trauma and abuse others have suffered and very much remembered from their childhoods.

Now, that isn't quite applicable to this episode, but this episode has some heavy moments and perhaps the worst abuse, out of all the abuse, Troi suffers through the series, and I want to address it the best I can.

"father, you know you're not supposed to probe someone's memory unless they've given you permission."

A.k.a. you have to get consent

"you are right, but sometimes with a beautiful woman I cannot help myself."

Red flag?! But not the red flag we're looking for. (Still: not appropriate) Beverly's laugh doesn't seem like acceptance to me, rather it's the socially acceptable way for women to cope with remarks that certain men think are flattering but are actually creepy. In a post #metoo world my hope is that as a society this is understood better than when this episode aired. I'm sure for many women it's just as evident as it ever was.

To be clear, this memory reading isn't sexual. What it is, is intimate. For whatever reason no other type of telepathy in Star Trek is depicted as a high form of intimacy, except for the now forgotten telepathic link that Troi and Riker have (which was formed because of the closeness of their relationship). But, to have access to someone's mind would be an incredible vulnerability, the sharing of one's mind a great intimacy, and the invasion of one's mind a great violation. A strong analogy for these is sexuality.

I want to make this distinction because there are violations and intimacies that are not sexual, and I think allowing for a broader analogy makes this a stronger story.

This conversation between Geordi and Data about memory feels like exposition to explain the concept to the audience. But, it seems to misrepresent some of the finer points, like how human recall and triggering recall actually works, how neurological structure and age factors in, how trauma effects memory, or in fact how humans encode specific memory or general concepts (like remembering the layout of your childhood home.)

"perhaps you would like to resurrect solve memories"

Is Beverly flirting with Picard? Or just teasing him

This scene with Troi brushing her hair and drinking hot chocolate is.... incredibly frustrating. Because of the "on again off again" or complete neglect of the story between Troi and Riker's relationship. Why have we never seen this part of their relationship before? Where does it fit it? I've seen people question at which point the memory becomes manipulated, wondering if Riker would ever force himself on Troi...which I would categorically say: no he would not.

"imzadi we can't, not when we're serving on the same ship"

"have you stopped thinking about us, just answer that" "I can't stop thinking about you"

They're clearly on the Enterprise, and Riker has a beard, and it could feasibly be somewhere in the past three and a half seasons. As the audience we are not privy to the original memory free of Jev's manipulations.

"Do you know what she was doing when this happened?" Riker's voice is so gentle.

Beverly's little smile as she walks in and sees Riker talking to Troi is exactly how I feel. "I miss you. Please don't stay away too long." Is so sweet and a bit heartbreaking.

Now, we see an apparent memory of Riker's. Troi's memory seemed to be hazy and pink like an old romance filter might be in black and white, but Riker's memory is distorted and stretched, and both have distorted and slowed audio. By contrast, Keiko's memory had no visual or audio distortion at all. Riker's apparent memory is feasible like Troi's.

Troi's assault is what almost everyone focuses on, because the "violation" of the episode is seen as an analogy to rape and because this element is inexplicably used again in the film Nemesis. However, I would like to point out that the two memories shown up until this point are both memories of vulnerability. The memory with Troi isn't just about sex, it's about the intimacy she has with Riker, a relationship they both want but don't feel like they're allowed to have. Riker's memory is of vulnerability of those under his command, as he has to actively make a choice that will kill a crew member to save the rest of the ship. His crew is ultimately his responsibility, their lives are in his hands, and he has to carry the responsibility of their deaths under his command.

Now we see Beverly's apparent memory. Her's is also a clear instance of vulnerability: seeing her dead husband's body. This memory is most likely of the three we see to have some reality to it. We do know that her husband died and Picard was the one to tell her and Wesley of his death. (It's mentioned in the pilot episode and in "The Bonding")

Rethinking the search parameters is incredibly clever on Geordi's part and he deserves more credit for it. It's almost... intellectually refreshing to see rather than a simple solution, and I applaud the writer who wrote this bit.

If Riker wasn't still in a coma he would be right by Troi's side.

"I'm remembering something from a few years ago" so, it is a memory, they're all actual memories, up until a point. "It's not Will, sombody's taken his place." when the person in her memory is hurting her the face isn't initially shown, we can't see who it is. But, before when the memory was safe and positive, we could see Will's face.

(the background soundtrack is a little too much and the whole sequence of Troi in pain makes me really uncomfortable.) And Worf and Picard.... don't react except Picard, very conservatively, places a comforting hand on her shoulder. Which fits with his decorum and all things considered is really, really sweet.

"A perverse source of pleasure perhaps. A need to exercise control over another." Even though Troi's memory was romantic or sexual in nature and through Jev's manipulation has the strongest direct parallel to literal sexual assault, rape is ultimately about power, the assertion of power, domination without consent. It is in direct opposition to intimacy, sexual or non sexual. intimacy is vulnerability plus trust and safety, regardless of what that vulnerability is.

I just realized the Ullian coats remind me of paper snow flakes.

I've seen some people confused that after everything that has happened why Jev would jeopardize himself by going to Troi. He seems to honestly like Troi, in whatever way he can, but at the same time is not in control of his impulses and desires, and whatever he likes about her is warped into his sick desire to overpower her. It's fantastic to see Troi fight back; Jev talks about how fragile she is, and it's important that we see that she is in fact NOT how he sees her.

"this form of rape" here is the first time the word is specifically used BUT I want to reiterate that Troi, Riker, and Beverly have all been subjected to this trauma.

It's good, and nice to know, that they will be getting counseling and help to process through what has happened. It's not always but on occasion TNG acknowledges that its characters have suffered with potential long term ramifications.

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sippingchai · 4 years

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Hanging By A Moment

A/N: So, ladies and gentleman. I am back from the dead to participate in @thefanficfaerie‘s 3500 follower celebration. This is new territory for me, so please forgive me if it’s not 100%. This one shot is inspired by “Hanging By A Moment” by Lifehouse. There’s a bit of bookstore/coffee shop, modern day au rolled into one.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes AU x Reader, fluff & longing

Summary: There’s a lot to unravel about Bucky Barnes, Steve’s new hire and long time friend. It was only a matter of time.

Word Count: 2.3K

“Forgetting all I'm lacking Completely incomplete I'll take your invitation You take all of me”

Spring

The crate weighs heavy in your hands, filled to the brim with old books that have plenty of life left to give. Some of them were well-loved. Dog-earred pages and notes scribbled into the margins for the next owner to stumble upon. Others are almost like new, crisp and shiny waiting for someone to pick them up and give them the attention they deserve. The clock above the double doors strikes 9 and you take the opportunity to flip the switch on the wall with your elbow, illuminating the Open sign.

Wanda hurries past you, rushing up the wooden staircase to the second level that overlooks the lobby. Spring comes fruitfully this year and the warm weather is more than welcome. Cover to Third Street Books is not by any means large, but being in the heart of downtown means a reasonable amount of people visit the dainty little shop.

One of the shelves sits half stocked after Wanda’s efforts, books neatly sitting on the bottom shelf waiting for more reinforcements. Balancing the crate against your hip, you prop one of the doors open, slipping the stopper in place with your foot. What you don’t expect when you turn around is a solid mass to run into you, knocking you off balance and sending the crate and its contents tumbling down.

“Watch it!”

“Shit!”

You both exclaim.

Jolted by the impact of your ass on the pavement, you’re stunned by the pair of hands that reach down to help you. Annoyance surges through your system and you shake off the help.

“Easy there. Just trying to help. You came outta nowhere.” The stranger remarks defensively, backing off slightly as you regain your balance. Ignoring him, you crouch down for the books picking them off from the cement to place them on the shelves.

“Look, I’m really sorry.” He apologizes, kneeling across from you to pick up the discarded books.

You intend to tell him off, let him know you don’t need his help but when you finally get a good look at him the ability to speak disappears. The sincerity in his eyes speaks volumes when he gives you an apologetic smile. They strike you the most, blue and bright in contrast with the rugged beard that adorns his face.

“It’s...it’s fine. It happens.” You manage to calm down until someone interjects.

“You getting into trouble already, Bucky?” Steve from the neighboring cafe yells from his door, grin splitting his face.

“Looks like it, pal.” Bucky smiles fondly.

“Wait, you know each other?” You ask, perplexed by the conversation as Steve starts to make his way towards the two of you.

“Steve and I go way back.” Bucky nods.

“He’s also the new guy I told you about.” Steve mentions casually and suddenly it all clicks.

The “new guy” was someone Steve was ecstatic over. A childhood friend that he hadn’t seen since he left for university with Bucky staying behind in their hometown.

“He’s been through a lot.” You recall Steve saying, lost in his own thought when he stopped by during a lull in the afternoon one day. “You could say he’s starting over.”

To say you were intrigued was an understatement, yet the story of his mystery friend wasn’t Steve’s to tell.

“You’re already telling people about me?” Bucky groans while he places the last of the books on the shelf. Steve He stands, smoothing the front of the shirt before offering a hand to you again. This time you take it. He helps hoist you up, and before you realize it, you’re face to face with him.

“You sure you’re okay?” He checks again. The warmth of his hand disappears, a small part of you disappointed it’s gone so fast.

“Nothing a little ice can’t help with.” You admit, assessing how sore your hip really is.

“Jesus, Bucky. You break her?” Steve ribs on him, dragging Bucky towards the cafe while he yells over his shoulder. “I’ll bring back some ice.” They both disappear through the door, Bucky taking one one last look over his shoulder catching your gaze.

“What the hell was that all about?” Wanda laughs as she stands from the door. Her full crate sits, unbothered, on top of the shelf.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” She smirks.

The rest of that week goes by without a hitch. Between new inventory coming in and a steady stream of online book orders, you and Wanda manage to keep busy.

“Do we want to keep Best Sellers where they are or swap them with New Arrivals?” Wanda stands between the two displays. She absently winds a strand of hair between her fingers while she weighs the pro’s and con’s of each.

You stand beside her, lips pursed while you do your own assessment.

“Just keep them where they are. No sense in moving them if we don’t need to.”

“...but I feel like we should switch it up after all the Spring cleaning we did.” Wanda bounces on the balls of her feet. She’s itching to make it happen.

“Look, I won’t stop you if -” Before you finish your statement, the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts you.

Bucky stands at the entrance, two hot drinks in hand. He looks tense while he stands there, taking in the shop in all its glory before his eyes finally meet yours.

“Afternoon ladies.” He speaks softly. His long chestnut hair is pulled up into a bun and the white apron he’s wearing is a stark contrast to the black shirt and jeans that adorns him. It’s quite a look, you think. A good look.

“So you’re the one that likes to run into women.” Wanda starts. Unbeknownst to Bucky, Wanda’s poker face is immaculate. It takes everything in you to contain your laughter.

“That was an accident.” He’s caught off guard.

“I’m joking.” She smiles in an instant. “Come in, we won’t bite.” She gestures towards him.

He makes his approach, cautiously eyeing Wanda as he walks across the hardwood.

“Steve told me you’re regulars.” He starts. “And that I should remember your orders.”

“Oh did he?” You laugh. His eyes meet yours and you can feel the warmth blossom in your chest again. He nods.

“Told me I should get used to it.” He lifts one of the cups, reading off white chocolate mocha and Wanda reaches for it. She thanks him in the process before taking a sip, indulging in the chocolatey goodness.

“Well, Steve’s right.” Wanda remarks while glancing pointedly between the two of you. “Anyways, I have work to do. Thanks for bringing this over.” She ascends the staircase and into the cozy office, closing the door behind her.

“So, I guess this is yours.” He laments softly as he hands you your drink.

“You guessed right.” You smile. The aroma of lavender and bergamot hits your nostrils. “I don’t know if he mentioned it, but you can just put this on our tab.”

“These are on the house.” Bucky admits. “A peace offering for the other day.” He shifts in his spot, reaching to rub the back of his neck. His nervousness is endearing.

“That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” He nods, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his apron.

“I guess we’ll be seeing you around then?” There’s a hopefulness in your voice that you’re not sure if he picks up on or not. He does.

“Yeah. Yeah, you will.”

Summer

That’s how the rest of Spring goes leading up into the Summer. Bucky dropping by twice a week to personally deliver both your and Wanda’s drinks, now iced instead of hot. Sometimes, it’s busy enough that he just leaves them behind the counter. Other times, it’s slow enough and he’s able to chat for a couple minutes before heading back. That awkward tension in the air begins to melt away and you look forward to seeing him. He doesn’t talk at all about what brought him to your neck of the woods, and you don’t bother to ask.

You do know that Bucky lives with Steve for the time being until he’s able to save enough for his own place. He lived with his sister in the midwest temporarily prior to his move here. Before that, he’d lived in Brooklyn his entire life. Rebecca’s the only family he has left and he calls to check on her often. He’s a fan of blueberry pancakes and other little tidbits that you can’t help but grow fond of.

The Summer Reads display you’re working on remains unfinished, unable to concentrate when the heat is getting to you. Every window and door is open, but the fact is that that 100+ year old brick building doesn’t have AC and you start to suffer come the end of May. From that point, it only gets worse.

Wanda is persistent. Always has been and always will be. It’s what you love about your best friend and business partner, yet hate just as much.

“If I have to see you two fawn over each other again I’m going to throw up.” She complains, disgust in her voice.

“Wanda, please.” You protest, trying to keep your mind of Bucky. It’s not that you don’t have any feelings for him, on the contrary. You don’t know if he’s ready for that yet.

“I just don’t get why you don’t go for it, babe. It’s just...obvious there’s something there.” She reiterates, adding books on the shelves in front of you. You stand there for a moment, mulling over her words. She’s not wrong and you know it.

Friday evening rolls around and as you start to close up for the evening, the bell from the front door chiming loud.

“We’re just about to clo - Bucky?” You look up from the register to see him making his way towards the counter. “What are you doing here?”

His gaze is intense, bright eyes taking your features in and he takes a deep breath.

“What are you doing after this?” He asks and there’s something in his voice you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Uh, Wanda and I were just gonna head to dinner.”

“No, we’re not.” She yells from upstairs, darting from the office to lean over the railing. “You can take her instead.”

Both of you respond.

“Wanda!”

“I want to.”

You return your attention to him. A swarm of emotions bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out for the longest time, doll.” Bucky chuckles. He braces his elbows on the edge of the counter and takes the opportunity to lean in closer to you. His beard gone and his clean shaven face in perfect view. “Whattya say?”

You can’t help but laugh, really.

“Where are we going?”

You find yourselves tucked away in a corner booth at the Lorenzo’s Diner across the street. It’s nearly empty and the smell of grease and soda permeates in the air but that doesn’t matter to either one of you.

“In short, I did a lot of things I regret.” He reflects as the two of you finish your meals. It’s a lot to soak in, you’ll admit. Knowing that he used to be a member of a gang back in Brooklyn, ex-member that is.

“Wow.” Is the only response you can muster up. Bucky sighs and leans back against the booth.

“I get it.” He utters. “If this isn’t something you’re into.” He points back and forth between the two of you.

“Bucky, no. It’s not that.” You reassure him, pausing for a moment. “You just...you just told me you used to be in a gang. That’s a lot of information to process.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sighs, frown set deep on his face.

“Hey, now.” You soothe, reaching across the table to take his hand into both of yours. “Look, you’re not that person anymore, right?”

“No.” Bucky whispers. “I’m not. That’s not who I am now.”

“I believe you. And that’s what matters, Buck. Here. Now.” Your voice trembles and your resolve disappears. “This moment between us is what matters. The ones moving forward.” You squeeze his hand.

He takes a long, deep breath and that warm smile you’re now familiar with spreads across his face. It’s contagious and you can feel your own starting to unfurl. He leans forward, gently pulling you toward him and his lips meet yours. His free hand cups the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek and you find yourself lost in his embrace. It’s soft and sweet and ends a little too quickly for your liking when he rests his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your forehead when he whispers thank you, and he pulls you in again.

The Following Spring

Bucky paces around the living room, a few boxes scattered about waiting to be unearthed. It had been less than a week since the two of you moved in together, opting for a place close to the heart of downtown and to work. He shuffles a few of the boxes to the other side of the living room, assessing their place before moving them back to where they originally were. The books you’ve gotten around to unpacking rest on the coffee table but you abandon them to tend to Bucky’s apparent distress.

“You’re going to wear a hole into the carpet.” You chuckle, walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “She knows we literally just moved in. It’s not gonna look perfect.”

“I haven’t seen my sister in over a year.” He twists in your grasp and you’re greeted with a kiss to the forehead. The shadow of a beard tickles your skin.

“I know. It’s gonna be okay.”

He studies you for a moment, full of warmth and adoration unlike anything you’ve seen before.

“What is it, Buck?” You question.

“It’s been...a very long time since I’ve felt a sense of normal.” His gaze never leaves yours, cradling your face in his hands. “Thank you for everything, Doll. For taking all of me.”

“Always.”

#bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fluff #oh god #i'm gonna aljsdfljsf

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gingerpeachtae · 5 years

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Concentric [17]

masterlist

Words: 9.5k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: some violence

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: HERE IT IS! Thank you all for your patience! Engoy! 💙

This far into the depths of the earth there was no warmth; only cold dampness and the distinct scent of a deep cavern. The female was shivering and crying as she approached the male, who was chained to the chilled, rocky ground. Tears streaked down her cheeks and dripped off her chin as the male struggled against his restraints, jingling the metal, and snarled at her. The links that were cuffed to the male’s wrists were long enough that he was able to stand, but he couldn’t raise his arms higher than his waistline.

It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. As the female advanced toward him, the male continued trying to yank the chains out of the floor. Trying to raise his hands so he could choke her until she begged.

Begged for air. For mercy. Forgiveness.

And he would show her none.

“You think this will solve anything?” The male spat at her before laughing madly. “You can’t kill me… you can’t kill what I am!”

The female drew in a shaky breath and weakly smiled as she took in the sight before her. She swept her gaze over the slope of the male’s nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips. All features she had tenderly touched and kissed over the years. Familiar features. But what hadn’t always been there was the anger boiling behind his garnet eyes… at least, it had never been directed toward her. Not until now. And although the rage in his eyes made her want to flinch away, she forced herself to meet his glare. To imprint it all into her memory.

She raised her hand to gently caress the male’s face one last time as more tears escaped from her eyes.

“I’m not going to kill you. I can’t. As much as I hate you… I still love you too much.” The female lowered her hand to the male’s chest, resting her palm right over his heart as she gazed into his red eyes. “I’m going to seal you away, so the world doesn’t have to suffer under your influence.”

Then, she began to push into the male’s chest, making him groan and contort his face in pain. Blood cascaded out from his chest, coating his body and painting the floor a deep crimson. But the female continued to push in. Past the skin, meat, and bone. All the way until her delicate hand was wrapped around his still beating heart.

The male yelled at her as she gripped the muscle, cursing her existence and all she stood for. Ignoring his cutting words, she instead began whispering an incantation. The room began glowing a warm gold as she reached the peak of the spell. When she was finished, the brilliant light dimmed and faded until the room was cold, damp, and dark once more.

“There still needs to be balance…” The female murmured to herself before forcefully removing her hand from the cavity of the male’s chest.

In her hand was not his heart, though, but rather an obsidian crystal that pulsed and expelled wisps of black smoke. At the extraction of the object, the male collapsed to his knees and released a shuddering breath.

“How… how dare you?” He tremulously growled and violently jerked his restraints.

The female just slowly back away, tears still flowing down her cheeks. She cradled the ebony crystal against her chest as the male began to grow more and more unruly.

He thrashed against the chains. Screamed. Cursed. Gouged at the spot where his bondages were bolted to the floor, cracking and breaking his nails.

With irregular breaths and crazed eyes, he met the female’s gaze once more. “Release me. Right. Now.”

She held back a sob and shook her head at the male, who began screaming and tearing at his chains yet again.

“I love you…” she whispered faintly. “But this is for the best.”

And then she turned and ran, leaving the person she both loved and despised behind forever as his screams echoed off the cavern walls.

“How much longer is she going to be like this hyung?”

The voice was murky and distant.

“I don’t know…” You heard another voice answer, and it was just as far away as the first.

“Her body is weaker than ours so it’s probably just taking her a bit longer, okay?” A third voice swam into your head through the darkness.

The first replied, “But it’s been two days.”

You knew that voice…

Where did you know that voice from?

“I know… just… just give her time. She’ll come back to us soon Tae.”

Tae…

A handsome face with sharp, blue eyes and a boxy smile flashed in your memory.

TaeTae… Taehyung.

Through the obscuring blackness that overtook your senses, you heard footsteps approach. They sounded dull and weighted, almost like they were in slow motion.

“Have you seen Kook?”

Cook? Is there a chef on the loose?

Someone sighed next to you. “He’s um, letting out his anger again.”

“For Exia’s sake, Kook’s going to kill him before we can get any information.”

No, not ‘cook’… Kook… Kookie…

Burgundy hair. Peridot eyes. Rough exterior. Gentle hands. Playful soul.

Jungkook.

The black started lessening and your senses sharpened.

The world slowly began to become clear.

You could hear the leaves and the birds and the bugs.

Could feel the sunlight warming your skin.

The wind whispering against your face.

A hand clasping your own.

A thumb softly moving across your knuckles.

“Jin hyung went to keep an eye on him.”

Was that Hobi’s voice?

You slowly inhaled through your nose as your eyelids fluttered open.

Squinting through the sunlight that contrasted so immensely with the darkness you had been floating in, you registered a combination of treetops, clouds, and a blue sky above you.

Letting out a miniscule groan at the bright light attacking your retinas, you realized you were resting on your back. A blanket was spread over your body and another was bunched underneath your head as a makeshift pillow.

The hand holding yours tightened as the sound of sleepy distress left your mouth. “Little scorja…?”

Rolling your head to the side, you let your gaze meet a pair of hopeful, blue eyes and you blinked slowly before whispering, “Hey, TaeTae.”

While he gasped at your response, you sent him a tender, but weak smile, and let your eyes drift down to where your hand was being held by his. Shifting your hand in his grasp, you gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Then, with a strangled grunt, you tried to raise your body so you were sitting up. Unsurprisingly, your body creaked and groaned in protest; not used to movement after lying sill for so long. Noticing your struggle, Tae was quick to aid you with a hand on your back.

You grimaced as your entire body ached. Fucking hell, I’m sore.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

After you managed to sit up with the Tae’s help, you turned your stiff neck to the side to see Namjoon showing off his dimples with warm, yellow eyes.

“Hi, Joo-wait I died!?” You tried to shriek out your sentence, but your voice came out broken and cracked from misuse.

You started coughing because of how utterly dry your throat was, moaning in between the forceful expulsions of air due to how they jerked your sore muscles. While Tae cursed and let go of your hand to scramble to find his canteen, Namjoon’s eyes widened and he held his hands up.

“No, no, no! Oh my goddess, that was really poor choice of wording. I just meant like ‘Yay! You’re conscious again,” Namjoon quickly explained as he winced at himself.

You felt your shoulders drop in relief and Tae returned and held the opening of the canteen to your lips. He gradually tipped it up so cool water flowed into your mouth. After a couple seconds of guzzling the heavenly liquid, you raised your hand to tell him to stop.

While you swallowed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, you realized something.

“How am I able to understand you guys if I’ve been unconscious? And how am I speaking your language right now?” You looked back to the leader of the kiela and tilted your head in confusion.

Namjoon proceeded to tell you that since they weren’t sure when you would wake up, they had been placing the yellow language petal in your mouth every morning. They hadn’t wanted you to wake up and not be able to communicate immediately, so they basically force-fed you the magic petal the past two days. You nodded in understanding at him then made grabby hands at the canteen in Tae’s grasp. The blue-eyed Saeni chuckled deeply and handed you the object as your eyes wandered to take in your surroundings.

A little to your right, Mingi was sitting in the shade quietly watching you. His hazel eyes lit up and he gave you a nod when you turned to him. You tipped the canteen toward him with a tiny grin and continued to sweep the area with your eyes. As you twisted around, all you saw was the mass of trees and the beautiful temple, but as you rotated all the way to look behind you, and unexpected sight greeted you.

Sitting on the ground with his hands bracing his weight behind him was the kiela’s spy. When your eyes met his light brown orbs, he smiled brightly and waved, but quickly returned his attention to the person fast asleep in his lap. His hand kept alternating between gently tracing patterns on the Saeni’s arm and brushing his mint hair out of his face.

Seeing what your eyes were fondly glued to, Namjoon softly said, “You know, you did almost die though…”

His comment made your body stiffen and you took a deep breath while turning back to face the yellow-eyed male as he described how Yoongi had made it to you just as you were on the edge between life and death. You had just lost so much blood and Tae hadn’t been able to stop the bleeding. Not with how large and deep the cut was to your thigh. Not with how the draikensu’s knife had gone entirely through your forearm.

Yoongi was already tired and drained from fighting after conjuring the shield, so he didn’t have much juice left in him. Though, somehow, he was able to stop the bleeding and mend some of your flesh before he had passed out form exhaustion.

Memories of your flayed skin and a puncturing blade burned behind your eyes. You shuddered and glanced to your leg and arm to see them wrapped tightly with bandages.

The leader of the kiela nodded at the wrappings and said that after a couple hours of involuntary sleep, Yoongi had woken and immediately worked on healing more of you until he collapsed yet again. Then he did it again a few hours later. And he continued to do that until he was sure you wouldn’t die or lose a limb.

“They’re still not fully healed, since Yoongi hasn’t been able to recharge completely, but there won’t be any permanent damage.”

You tenderly touched the bandages on your arm and nodded before going to take another sip of water. Though as you began to tip the canteen back you froze as you remembered why you had gotten these wounds in the first place. The canteen in your hand was slowly lowered to your lap while your pulse sped up, and you looked between Tae and Namjoon.

“Where’s Jimin?” You asked them shakily, fear beginning to ebb and flow within you. “Why isn’t he here? Is he… did he…?”

Tae quickly wrapped his arms around you and crushed you into a hug, and the action only made more dread blossom in your heart. Your throat tightened as tears began to leak down your cheeks, and all you could think of was how limp Jimin had looked after he fell. How lifeless. Tae pulled you closer and began murmuring sweet nothings to try to calm you down.

Choking back your sobs as your body trembled, you did your best to compose yourself but failed. “He… he’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Huh?” Tae leaned away slightly so he could look at you with confused, furrowed brows. “Chim hyung isn’t dead.”

Your jaw dropped and it seemed like your entire self paused for a moment; needing time to reset after hearing him.

“W-What?” You hiccupped through your tears and shock.

Before Tae could answer, Namjoon spoke up. “He just broke his leg badly, oh and a few ribs too, and had a nasty concussi-”

Mingi suddenly coughed loudly and gave Namjoon a pointed look before finishing for the leader. “But he’s perfectly fine and alive, thanks to you.”

He’s alive. He’s alive. Oh my fucking goddess, he’s alive.

The Saeni holding you leaned back in and gave your cheek a comforting peck then he smoothed some of your hair away from your wet face while you sniffled and rubbed your eyes.

“Well, where the hell is he? I wanna see him.”

Namjoon grimaced slightly and looked away from you. “He, uh, blames himself for what happened to you and is taking it pretty hard.” The male sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Every time he’s seen you or saw how tolling it’s been on Yoongi to heal you, he feels even worse. So, he’s been staying away, basically isolating himself from everyone with the exception of Jiae and Chungha.”

You released a long breath and hung your head as you absorbed Namjoon’s words.

Of course, he has to blame himself for something that isn’t his fault. That’s such a Jimin thing to do.

“Alright, well… that’s just fucking fantastic. And Jungkook? Where is he?”

Tae scooted back from you a bit and held your hands but looked down as he gave you an answer. “After you passed out, Kook kind of… lost it. I didn’t see a lot of it because I was so focused on you, but he punched the draikensu that hurt you until he was unconscious and… and then he went around and finished the rest. But the way he did it… I’ve never seen him like that before.”

You saw Mingi shake his head out of the corner of your eye. “It was like he turned into something else. Went berserk. It was a bit terrifying honestly.”

The guard hesitated to continue but you gave him a nod. So, he went on to describe how after the few remaining draikensu had been wiped out by his blades, he had returned to the only one still breathing: the one who had hurt you. Jungkook had stalked up to the unconscious male with blood-soaked hands and furious eyes. Mingi, Jin, and Namjoon had to step in and restrain the maknae from killing the draikensu. They understood Jungkook’s desperation to end the male’s life… but they needed him alive for questioning. After wrestling with the enraged youngest member for several minutes, the three of them managed to bring Jungkook to the other side of the temple. There, Jungkook had punched the temple’s stone exterior and begun yelling at them to let him see. When they didn’t, he had collapsed to the ground and fisted his burgundy hair in his hands. He had gone completely silent besides the sounds of his strained, labored breaths, and had stayed that way until Tae came around and informed everyone that you were in a somewhat stable condition.

Then, similar to Jimin, every time Jungkook saw you he would get upset… only his anger wasn’t directed at himself. It was at the draikensu who had maimed you. Whenever the anger, stress, and worry from the situation built up within him, he would go release it by essentially beating the shit out of the draikensu they were now holding captive.

And, apparently, that’s what he was doing at this very moment.

You deeply inhaled and looked into Namjoon’s concerned yellow eyes. “Let me see him. Please.”

You limped your way through the temple halls, using one hand to brace yourself against the stony walls as you did so. The Saeni had all offered to help walk you to the room they were keeping the draikensu locked up in, but you declined. You wanted to go alone. Plus, your leg wasn’t too bad. Yeah, it still hurt, but it was manageable. And it was leagues better than it had been the last time you were conscious.

Damn, Yoongi really is amazing… I need to remember to thank him when he’s awake later.

Fortunately, the pathway to the room wasn’t blocked by any tree roots or honeysuckle vines, so you didn’t have to strain your body and climb around anything. Yet, regardless of the seemingly easy path, your breaths were still labored as you made your way through the innards of the temple. It annoyed you. Feeling weak, that is.

But, hey, it beats being a lifeless corpse, so I’ll take it.

While you shuffled through the hallways, you enjoyed the floral scent that permeated the stuffiness of the ancient structure. And as you continued placing one foot slowly in front of the other, you watched the specks of dust float in the patches of sunlight that filtered through the many cracks and windows.

After making your way down several halls, you rounded a corner and paused your steps for a millisecond when you saw Jin sitting down with his back against the wall. His forearms were resting on his knees as his raven-haired head leaned back against the stone behind him. His dark eyes had been closed when you first turned the corner, but they opened and shifted to you as you started making your way over. Once he registered who you were, he shot to his feet and jogged down the hallway to pull you into a short hug.

Giggling, you returned the gesture and wrapped your arms around him briefly. “Hey there, Papa Jin.”

“It’s really good to see you up and about, little scorja. You had us super worried.”

You smiled at him as you stepped back, careful not to place too much weight on your still-healing leg.

You nudged him with your uninjured arm and cocked a brow teasingly. “What are you doing out here, hmm? I thought you’re supposed to be watching Kookie?”

Jin’s expression darkened and he let out a sigh. “Didn’t want to watch. It’s not a pretty sight, so I’m just listening to make sure he doesn’t go too far.” He tapped his ear, making his small silver hoop shake.

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just gave him a tiny nod in understanding.

“I’m assuming you’re here to see him, yeah?”

You nodded again and looked past him down the hallway.

“Are you sure you want to see him right now? Like I said, it’s not exactly a pretty sight.”

You brought your eyes back to the male before you and affirmed that you did.

I want to see him. I need to see him… and he needs to know that I’m okay and awake.

Jin pursed his lips in thought for a few heartbeats then raised his hand to your shoulder. “Alright, little scorja¸ I’ll head back to give you two some privacy. Just make sure Kook doesn’t kill the bastard.” He gave your shoulder a light squeeze then stepped around you and walked down the hall, around the corner, and out of sight.

You inhaled slowly then released all the air in your lungs in one, strong huff as you began moving toward your destination. Toward Jungkook.

You reached the end of the hallway and turned left, your eyes now aimed at the opening at the end of the new hall. As your limping steps neared the doorway, you started hearing grunts of exertion and the thumping of knuckles hitting meaty skin. And they only increased in volume as you advanced further.

Finally, you arrived at the opening and the sounds of ragged breaths, moans, and pain were loud and clear. Steeling yourself, you placed a hand on the corner and peeked inside the room.

The smell of iron hit you and rapidly replaced the soft, honeysuckle scent of the temple. In the corner of the room, Jungkook crouched over the draikensu, who’s wrists and ankles were bound with rope. One hand was twisted in the male’s ripped shirt at the collar, the other was fisted and repeatedly smashing into the male’s swollen and puffy face. Even in the low light of the room, you could see how bruised and thrashed Jungkook’s knuckles were. The skin split and oozing blood. A testament to how hard and often he was hitting the draikensu who had attacked you.

Blood was staining the back of Jungkook’s hands and it was smeared across the draikensu’s face. The red liquid was leaking out of the male’s cracked lips in spitty dribbles while his eyes rolled back into his head from Jungkook’s assaults.

“Did you think you could get away with it? With going after them? Hurting my family?” Jungkook hissed at the bleeding, broken male as he brought his fist down yet again.

When he didn’t get a reply, Jungkook growled and heaved the draikensu up, pushing the barely conscious male into the wall. Before the draikensu could crumple to the ground, the Jungkook kneed the male in the gut and threw a powerful right hook into his jaw. Only then did Jungkook allow the draikensu to collapse to the floor in a heap of bloody, bruised, and limp flesh.

As he stood over the draikensu, you could see his shoulders rising and falling heavily with his breaths.

You took a tiny step inside the room. “If he’s dead, he won’t be able to say anything useful, you know?”

All the muscles in Jungkook’s body stiffened before he whipped around to stare at you in shock, though it quickly morphed back into a hardened expression. His jaw ticked and his green eyes glinted dangerously while you fully entered the room.

“If he’s dead, he can’t hurt you.”

You stared at each other, neither of you making a move… but you saw his hand twitch toward his ruby-hilted dagger.

You rolled your eyes. “But if he’s de-”

“No.” Jungkook cut you off and he wrapped his hand around the dagger’s handle and gripped it so tightly more blood leaked out from the openings on his knuckles. “He hurt you. He deserves to die.”

You blinked at him while he looked away and took several deep breaths. Slowly releasing his dagger, he brought his peridot eyes back to you. He seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat before rushing over and pulling you against his chest. Strong arms enwrapped you as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Immediately, you placed your arms around him and closed your eyes while inhaling his familiar scent of steel and flowers. I was obscured a bit by the overwhelming scent of blood, but it still managed to both comfort you and send your heart into a frenzy.

Both of you stood in each other’s embrace for what seemed like a lifetime, but the moment was shattered as a manic laughter rose up and echoed throughout the room.

Jungkook untangled himself from you and looked behind him as you gazed past his shoulder. The draikensu was chuckling at the two of you while more blood seeped out of his mouth and onto his chin.

“I understand why it’s always you who pays me visits.” The male spat blood on the floor and smiled in a perverse way while propping himself up awkwardly due to his restrained wrists. “It’s because I almost killed your whore.”

Instantly, you noticed the way Jungkook narrowed his eyes and his tensed his body. He took a step toward the male, but you hastily grabbed his hand and yanked him back. The fucker was just goading Jungkook on, but he was too angry to realize it. Much to your surprise, though, the burgundy-haired Saeni let you hold him back and although he kept his focus on the draikensu, he threaded his fingers through yours.

The beaten male’s blown out and wild eyes dropped to your linked hands and he barked out more laughter. “Ah, you get put on a leash when she’s around, huh?”

Jungkook’s fingers tightened around your own and you heard him emit a low growl. You could tell he was about two seconds away from exploding, so before that could happen, you peeled your hand from his and approached the draikensu, doing your best to conceal your limp. You stood over the male, who showed off his crimson-stained teeth to you.

Tilting your head to the side, you smirked. “Actually, it’s me who needs the leash most of the time.”

Then, you raised your good leg and kicked the male straight in his bruised, puffy face, causing his head to snap back into the stone wall. The force of your kick made you lose what little consciousness he had left, and he slumped to the side with his eyes closed and mouth shut.

Placing your foot back on the floor, you let out a small groan as you returned your weight to your uninjured leg. Swiveling on your heels, you limped your way over the blood-puddled floor back to Jungkook who was gawking at you in awe. You murmured a ‘let’s go’ as you hobbled past him out of the room and into the hallway. Chuckling, Jungkook followed you out and caught up beside you, flexing his bruised, bloody knuckles as you walked side by side.

The Saeni blew out a puff of air as the scent of iron began to dissipate and be replaced with honeysuckle. “Is it bad that watching you do that kind of turned me on?”

His voice was light and joking, so you knew he wasn’t being serious. Though, you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Yet again, you found yourself being so confused by the male next to you. It seemed like a never-ending, recurring theme.

All you knew was that you were tired. The walking was making you tired. Seeing Jungkook like that made you tired. The kick made you tired. His comment made you tired. You were just… tired.

Sighing, you replied in a drained voice, “Seeing as how you don’t find me attractive… yeah, maybe a little.”

You forced out a small laugh and turned to the side to see Jungkook’s reaction, but he was no longer beside you. You slowed and fully turned to see that he had stopped walking and was looking down at the dusty floor. His hands were clenched, and you furrowed your brows. A couple moments passed before he finally lifted his head and you were confused to see conflict swimming in his peridot eyes.

Again, you found yourselves just staring at each other. Not moving. Not saying anything.

All of the sudden, Jungkook muttered to himself, relaxed his hands, and then, still without saying anything to you, walked over and scooped you into his arms bridal-style.

“Hey! What the hell!?” You smacked his chest lightly.

He glanced down at you briefly as he started making his way through the temple halls. “You were limping.”

“So?” You scoffed.

“So, I’m carrying you the rest of the way.”

You huffed and began pouting, crossing your arms over your chest as well as you could while being squished against Jungkook’s body. Yet as he continued walking, you couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure as your injured leg was finally free from your weight. There was still a dull throbbing, but the absence of the constant, piercing pain made your eyes begin to droop and before you knew it, you were struggling to keep your eyes open.

But you were just so tired. Too tired to fight the urge to sleep that beginning to take you over.

So, you didn’t fight it.

You whispered, “Thanks, Kookie…” and allowed your eyes to close and your head to lean into his chest.

Then you fell into an easy sleep, lulled by the strong beating of his heart.

“We need to decide who’s going to do it.”

“I would, I really would. But…”

“It’s okay, Tae, we know why you can’t, you don’t have to say it.”

Once again, you found yourself awakening in the middle of a conversation. You stirred lightly as you slowly came to your senses.

“I can do it. She saved my life after all.”

Namjoon.

“She saved mine too. And she’s my best friend.”

Jimin? JIMIN!? Okay, time to wake the fuck UP, Y/N. Jimin is here!

“Hyungs… let me do it. Please.”

Jungkook.

You forced your body to roll over onto your stomach and you raised your arms above your head, groaning pleasantly at the stretch. Once your little cat stretch was over, you opened your eyes and tucked your arms beneath your head to gaze up at the kiela. Luckily, it was now evening time, so you weren’t attacked by the bright harshness of the midday sun like last time.

“Mmmmm.” You sleepily moaned as you tried to process the conversation you heard. “What are you guys talking about?”

Every member snapped his jaw shut and looked at each other, silently urging someone else to say something. Jin nudged Namjoon with his foot, Yoongi yawned and gestured to Hobi, Jimin forcefully pushed Tae forward, and Jungkook just pointed at Yoongi with wide eyes.

You scoffed and pushed yourself up, resting your chin in your palm and looking at the collection of males before you with narrowed eyes. “Seriously?”

Why are they being so weird and sketchy?

“Uhhh…” They all continued to look between them.

Namjoon even coughed awkwardly.

Rolling your eyes, you took in an exaggerated breath through your nose. “Do you smell it?” The kiela all looked at you dumfounded. “That smell. A kind of smelly smell. The kind of smelly smell that smells…”

For Exia’s sake.” Jimin muttered as he caught on to what you were saying.

You raised a brow at the group of Saeni. “Suspiscious.”

“Holy shit, you didn’t do the full reference.” Your best friend pushed his apricot hair back with his hand, but when he realized your eyes were on him, he froze.

You took him in, noting that his leg was no longer twisted at an unnatural angle. He actually looked like he was, indeed, completely fine. While you studied him, he blinked at you and his surprised expression changed into a guilt-ridden one.

Suddenly, Jimin looked at his wrist and stammered, “Aw shit, look at the time! I need to get back to Jiae like right now, so bye!”

He shoved his way through his gaggle of brothers and began booking it out of there, like he was desperate to get away from you.

“PARK JIMIN!” You staggered to your feet, ignoring the flash of pain in your thigh, and pointed a finger at the boy menacingly. “If you do not bring your bubble butt back over here so we can talk I swear I’m going to hobble after you for all eternity like that demon thing from It Follows!”

The apricot head stopped in his tracks and slowly looked back at you in fear. You crossed your arms, lifted a brow, and tapped your foot on the ground impatiently.

Gulping, Jimin immediately fast-walked back and plopped down on the dirt in front of you while muttering about how much that movie scared him and how much he hated it in return

Snickering to yourself at how well you knew how to deal with Jimin’s stubborn ass, you sheepishly turned your attention to the other members. They had no clue what you had just threatened their brother with, but they all seemed a little startled and hesitant to find out.

“Um, would you guys mind maybe giving us a minute?”

It was like they all snapped out of a daydream simultaneously and they nodded their consent and began walking off in different directions. As Tae dragged Jungkook away toward the creek, you saw the burgundy-haired Saeni gazing over his shoulder at you so you sent him a tiny wave. Once they disappeared into the trees, you were about to go sit in front of your sulking best friend, but you suddenly remembered your mental promise from earlier. As fast as you could, you limped after Yoongi and Hobi, almost managing to trip over a rock in the process and calling out the former’s name along the way. The pair stopped when they heard you, and when you were close enough, you threw your arms around the mint-haired Saeni. Yoongi let out a grunt at the impact and although you wanted to squeeze him tightly to show your gratitude, you didn’t since you knew he probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, after a couple seconds, you released the surprised male and just smiled at him.

“Thank you, Mr. Sparkle Hands. For not letting me croak just yet.”

Then you winked and gimped your way back to Jimin, who was watching you in amusement. Though, as soon as you returned your focus to him, he dropped his gaze to his hands that were clasped in his lap.

Your steps slowed as you approached, unsure as to what to say now that you had him alone and with you. Ultimately, you decided not to speak as you sat down across from your best friend, allowing him the opportunity to say something first.

You waited, watching the sun begin to dip lower and lower in the distance.

You waited, listening as the bugs became more and more active.

You waited and waited and waited.

Until finally, Jimin spoke.

“I knew you shouldn’t have come to Illain. I knew you were going to get hurt.” He still didn’t look up from his hands. “And it’s all my fault.”

You blew a raspberry and replied, “And if hadn’t come then who would’ve saved your sorry ass?”

Your attempt to lighten the atmosphere failed, as he only let his head fall further.

Way to go, you dumb bitch. You made him feel worse.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have saved me. Maybe you should have just let me die.”

You sucked in a breath as his self-deprecating tone filled your ears and you stared at him with eyes wide in disbelief.

Jimin...

“Maybe it all would be easier for everyone. For Exia’s sake, I don’t even know what I’m doing! I don’t even know how to fucking unlock the fucking secret that only I’m supposedly able to unlock! I’m not even a full Saeni and I never even met my damn father! How do we even know I can do it!? I-I just I don’t know what to do and everyone is relying on me to figure this out and if you had died, I would have been so lost, and I was so scared when I woke up and saw Yoongi frantically working over you.” Jimin tugged at his hair harshly then finally raised his head and you flinched at the pure pain and guilt that filled his brown eyes. “When I saw you… I thought you were actually dead. You were fucking covered in blood and your eyes were closed and I thought I had lost you… and then I learn that you were hurt because of me! Because I’m a goddamn failure that can’t do anything right! You got hurt because of me… so, how can it not be my fault!? It is my fault! I almost killed you… my own best friend… my family.”

Tears were dripping off his sharp jaw and he was breathing laboriously by the time he was finished. His anguished eyes looked into yours, desperate for you to affirm his statements. He felt helpless and wanted to wallow in his pain. He wanted you to confirm his words. He wanted you to agree that you almost died because of him. That you now hated him as a result. Because if you hated him, you would stay away. And then you would finally be safe from harm.

Seeing him like that shattered your heart and you felt your throat thicken as the strong boy you’ve known and cared for for years fell apart before your eyes.

You bit your lip, wanting to do nothing more than hold him in your arms and tell him how it wasn’t his fault, that you didn’t blame him… but you also knew how his mind functioned. You could repeat how nobody blamed him over and over and over until your voice was hoarse, and it would have no impact on him. He was just too stubborn and in his own head. Only he would be able to forgive himself for something he didn’t even do and change his perspective.

You let out a puff of air as you kept your gaze trained on Jimin and you clapped your hands together. “Alright, I’m only going to say this once, so listen the fuck up Slim Jim. In the end, it’s up to you whether or not you pull your head out of your own ass and believe me. Just know that I, in no way, shape, or form, blame you. What happened isn’t your fault.” He went to argue, but you sternly spoke over him. “It was entirely my decision. I was the one who leapt off the roof. I was the one who jumped in front of the knife. I was the one who decided to risk my life. Not you. Not anyone else. Me. My decision.”

Jimin tightly shut his eyes, causing more tears to leak out from the corners.

“It’s up to you to accept that or not. But I don’t blame you and I don’t regret what I did either.” You reached out and gently squeezed his knee.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I can completely accept that yet.” Jimin replied in a soft, tiny voice as he sniffled and reopened his eyes to stare at where your hand rested on his knee. “But… I’ll try to.”

You patted his knee and smiled at him. “Okay.”

Jimin took a big breath and sloppily wiped at his face with his fingers before wrapping a hand around your wrist and tugging you forward so he could embrace you.

He held you tenderly as he whispered how sorry he was for not being by your side the past few days. Ignoring the protest in your forearm and thigh, you secured all four of your limbs around the boy and hugged him hard. You told him that he didn’t need to worry about it and that you were just so glad he was alive. Then you wacked him on the back with your hand, making him yelp in surprise, and you scolded him for scaring you and telling him to never do that again.

Jimin giggled. “No promises, but I’ll do my best as long as you never do that again either.”

You leaned back so you could look the half-Saeni in his tear-reddened eyes and you stuck your tongue out at him. “No promises.”

Your best friend just sighed and mumbled about how he could never win with you.

You poked him in the arm. “Hey, Namjoon said you broke your leg, some ribs, and had a concussion, so…”

“So how am I walking around A-okay?”

You nodded.

“Ah, since hyung was, um… preoccupied… with you and my injuries weren’t too severe, Hobi hyung got me all healed up.”

You began cooing at Jimin, pinching his cheeks and commenting about how older brother took such good care of him. The apricot head rolled his eyes and swatted your hands away, but even though he tried to appear annoyed, he couldn’t hide the grin that teased his lips.

Smiling back, you slowly unwound yourself from him, careful not to disturb your wounds any more than you already had. Once you were successfully back to your original spot, Jimin asked if you were good and you pursed your lips and nodded while making a noise of confirmation.

Although you told him you were feeling fine, the apricot head still told you he was going to find Yoongi and have him check on you just in case. You blew out another raspberry and settled back on your sleeping mat as Jimin stood and brushed off the dirt from his pants.

“Be honest, you just want an excuse to leave me so you can go find your girl.” You teased him while wiggling your brows.

Jimin laughing, making his eyes squished closed and you looked at him fondly. “Maybe. But you know you’ll always be my girl too, right? Unless, of course, Kook’s not okay with that.”

He winked at you and you groaned, covering your face with your hands before he could see the heat rising to your cheeks.

Between your fingers you hissed, “Fucking hell, stop! He could hear you!”

“Mhmm, sure, whatever you say… Mrs. Jeon.”

“Okay, yup, please go. Leave me.” You buried your head in your arms to hide your growing embarrassment.

Mrs. Y/N Jeo-HAHA NOPE. Not going there. Cease all brain activity.

Jimin laughed again and bid you goodbye, telling you he’d see you in a bit. Though before he could get far, you bolted upright and called out his name so he would look back at you.

“Please try to accept it, okay?”

He sent you a sad smile and nodded. “Okay.”

Then he turned around and walked off into the trees to find his mint-haired brother as you collapsed back onto your mat and stared at the slowly darkening sky.

Please try to.

A little while later, you had all just finished eating dinner prepared by the one and only Papa Jin. Before you had started eating, though, Jiae had rushed over and pulled you into a soft hug, expressing her happiness that you were okay. She also thanked you for being brave and saving Jimin. You just quietly hugged her back until she was satisfied and let you go. As she hurried over to where Jimin sat, Chungha passed you and you had to snort at how she didn’t even spare you a single glance. It was just so typical Chungha.

Afterwards, you made your way to your usual spot between Tae and Jungkook, your strides not as strained as they had been a couple hours prior. Jimin had kept his word and sent Yoongi over to check on you after your conversation and the magic user had done a little more healing on you, much to your protest. You didn’t want the mint-haired Saeni to exhaust himself even more, but he had insisted until you gave in. He really had a knack for getting his way. When the soft blue glow had begun to emit from his hands, you had debated whether or not to bring up the kiela’s spy, but in the end, you decided to keep your mouth shut because Yoongi was tired. And tired Yoongi definitely did not want to discuss feelings.

As you had dragged yourself over to your usual spot and sat between the two Saeni who were joking with each other like they typically did, you had almost cried at the smell of Jin’s cooking. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the delicious scent hit your nose. The smell had made you salivate so much, you had practically vibrated in excitement when Jin poured you a little cup of stew. He had been cautious not to give you too much since he didn’t want you getting sick by eating a lot after not doing so for a couple days. It was a good thing he thought of that too, because you would have tried to eat the entire pot. Snatching the cup out of his hands, you had been eager to stuff yourself, but before you did, you made sure to turn to the decently-sized campfire and pour some of the food into the flames. You had murmured a thank you to Exia and Illai for giving you strength and for keeping you alive and asked them to continue watching over you. Jungkook had been the only one to notice your actions and he smiled before returning his eyes to his meal, not saying a word as you sat beside him and began spooning the stew into your mouth.

Now, as you rubbed your full, content tummy and held a discussion with Tae about who the best starter Pokémon was, you felt a nudge at your side.

What does Jungkook want now?

Sure, he had been quiet at the start of the meal, but as the sky grew darker, he became more and more loud and touchy. Constantly poking and interrupting you, almost like he was desperate for your attention.

He is such a little shit sometimes.

At first, you disregarded his nudging because detailing why Mudkip was your preferred pick was much more important than dealing with a whiny Jungkook. Eventually, his nudges increased in power, so your entire body swayed each time he touched you.

“For fuck’s sake! What do you need, you big baby!?” You finally had enough and turned to the green-eyed male.

His lips dropped into a pout and he pointed at himself. “I’m not a big baby, I’m a big boy! You’ve said it yourself!”

“That sentence was basically a direct example of baby boy culture,” you muttered to yourself before shaking your head. “Anywho, what do you keep violently nudging me for?”

Jungkook pouted even harder, crossing his arms over his chest. Usually the action would make him appear bigger and bulge his muscles, but for some reason it just made his seem soft and squishy at the moment.

“Not until you say it.”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at the childish Saeni. “Say what?”

“That I’m a big boy!” His green eyes widened cutely.

Oh my goddess.

You heard Tae struggle to contain a snort next to you.

You inhaled and closed your eyes, pressing your fingers to your forehead for a moment as you collected yourself. “Alright, fine. You’re such a big boy, Kookie.”

The male instantly uncrossed his arms and looked mighty pleased with himself as Tae wheezed and covered his mouth.

Jungkook’s face turned serious as he rose to his feet, grabbing your hand and pulling you up too in the process. “Come on, I want to show you something. Hop up.” He turned around and presented you his back.

Mhmm. Tell the girl with the injured leg to ‘hop.’ You mentally rolled your eyes but did as he instructed.

Securing his hands underneath your thighs, he made sure you were properly hoisted as you tucked your chin against his shoulder. Satisfied you wouldn’t be going anywhere, he began strutting off into the trees, not even giving you a chance to say a decent goodbye to the others.

Then you, or more accurately he, trekked through the forest, his steps quiet but hasty. It was getting darker and darker by the minute; the sun was finally setting and casting an aurora of colors in the sky.

You patted Jungkook’s firm chest twice as he stepped up and over a fallen tree and you giggled in his ear. “Is this the part where you take me deep into the woods and murder me?”

The green-eyed male shivered at the sensation of your breath ghosting against his neck before chuckling at you. “You’re awful cheerful over the thought of being possibly murdered.”

“What can I say? I love a good murder mystery.”

“I don’t think it would be much of a mystery since everyone saw you leave on my back.” Jungkook laughed again, the sound like music to your ears, and shook his head, which caused his burgundy hair and earrings to sway back and forth from the movement.

“Damn, that’s true.” You frowned and dropped your chin back onto his shoulder as a mass of leaves glided against your side. “Alright, don’t murder me then, there would be no fun involved.”

“I… you’re really fucking something else. But hey, do me a favor and close your eyes, okay?”

You did and he continued to walk for another minute, steps still silent and still not telling you where he was taking you. You heard him brush aside a few branches, making the leaves shake against each other. He took a couple more steps forward then softly told you to open your eyes.

You peeked through your lashes then gasped and shot your eyes open all the way as your back went ramrod straight. The two of you were on a cliff with a perfect view of the setting sun. The sky was like a watercolor painting; fading from a rich black, to a dark navy, to a bright red, and then a delicate orange. You could see the forest stretched out below you, still somewhat visible in the dying sunlight.

“Wow.” You gaped at the sight before you.

Jungkook smiled shyly. “You like it?”

You blinked in amazement and tapped his shoulder to let him know you wanted to be put down. “It’s so beautiful, how could I not like it?”

The Saeni eased you to the ground and watched as you walked to the edge of the cliff so you could sit down and swing your legs below you.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Jungkook laughed nervously as he joined you at the edge. “I, um, you went through a lot, so I wanted you to experience something nice.”

You felt your cheeks flush and you smiled warmly at the male as a gust of wind caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

Or maybe it’s not because of the wind…

Jungkook stared out at the horizon, the orange glow causing his green eyes to sparkle and his hair to appear pinker than ever.

“You know, I was really scared you were going to die. Especially after hearing you whisper my name. I thought that that was it. That you were gone. And I didn’t know what how to deal with it. I’m sure hyungs told you, but I sort of went crazy. Instead of being there for you, instead of trying to save you, I left and went on a rampage.” He sighed into the sunset. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You exhaled slowly as you studied his features before grabbing ahold of one of his hands. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m alive. Everything’s okay.”

He smiled faintly but kept his eyes forward. “Regardless, I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” He laughed at himself weakly. “Fuck, I even had a dream that you died. That no matter what I did, you kept dying. Over and over right in front of me. It was just the two of us and inky darkness, but I could never reach you in time.”

“Hey, but you did. You tackled the draikensu before he could kill me. You got to me in time.” You scooted closer to him, so your thighs were touching, and you intertwined your fingers with his.

“I guess I did…” He paused for a moment then cleared his throat. “Um, so this is random, but Tae’s told you about his mark, right?”

You looked at him in puzzlement, wondering why he changed the topic to that all of the sudden. “Uh, the one his father gave him to share the draeva connection? That mark?”

Jungkook nodded and opened his mouth but hesitated and closed it. You felt his fingers tighten around yours a little as he let out a breath and opened his mouth again.

Then he told you the kiela had talked and unanimously agreed that they wanted to induct you as an honorary member of the kiela.

Your eyes bugged out. “Wait, WHAT!?”

He smiled at your outburst and raised his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “That’s what we were talking about when you woke up earlier; we were deciding who would give you the mark.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!? WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST TELL ME THEN!?” You yanked your hand out of his and fully turned your body to face him with both your eyebrows raised high.

Is that even possible!? Or allowed!?

It was getting so dark, but you could still make out the faint blush that touched his cheeks and he continued rubbing his neck. “We, uh, hadn’t decided on who would give you the mark yet and didn’t want to say anything until we did.”

“Holy shit, okay wait, so I’m gonna have a connection to a draeva? To Illain!? Oh my fucking-wow, I never-wow… but that’s a big deal, right? The other person loses some of their connection, so who would do that for me?”

Jungkook dropped the hand that had been rubbing his nape and turned to fully face you as well. “Actually, everyone was willing, but… we decided it would be me.”

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth in shock as he gave you a lopsided grin. You were speechless, touched, honored.

And Jungkook wants to give me the mark. He wants to share his connection with me.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you said, though it was muffled by your hand.

Jungkook snorted and peeled it away from your mouth but didn’t let go of your hand as you just blinked in incredulity at the whole thing.

“Um, can I ask why you?” You bit your lip as the wind picked up for a moment. “No offense, but why not Jimin?”

The male coughed at your question. “Oh, um… it’s because, uh…”

He avoided your gaze and started fidgeting; tapping his free fingers against his thigh, toying with the belt that held his dagger, playing with the pebbles on the ground next to him.

Cute.

“Because of…?” You inquired as you pursed your lips. “Is it because you’re my teacher or mentor or whatever?”

He abruptly stilled, his entire body tensing up. The only movement that came from him was the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Then, just as suddenly as he had stopped fidgeting, he brought his eyes back to you and just stared. You tilted your head to the side, trying to decipher what was going on in that burgundy head of his.

Not that I would ever be able to guess.

You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth as you studied him, and the action made his green eyes drop to your mouth. He let out a prolonged exhale and muttered ‘fuck it.’

Before you could blink, he raised his free hand, cupped your jaw, and leaned in.

Before you could think, he connected your lips harshly.

Before you could react, he moved back an inch.

It felt like the air was stolen from your lungs as his lips hovered above yours. The sounds of the universe shrunk until all that could be heard was the combination of your breaths and the thudding of your heart. You stared at him with wide eyes and his chest heaved up and down.

“Because of this,” whispered as he looked into your eyes.

Then he moved back in, attacking your lips with fervor. Your eyes instinctually closed while you tried to keep up with his demanding pace. Tingles erupted over your skin and you felt yourself grow dizzy. Whether it was from the lack of air or from the pure sensation of his lips against yours, you weren’t sure.

Dropping your hand, he tangled his fingers in your hair and tilted your head to his liking. He sucked on your bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth, adding just a hint of pain to the passionate pleasure of his ministrations. It made you softly moan, and you raised your hands to grip his arms and steady yourself. You felt the teasing of his tongue at the seam of your lips, and you immediately granted him access. You didn’t even attempt to take control. You just let him dominate you however he pleased. He groaned into your mouth at how easily you succumbed to him, and the sinful sound made you desperate for more.

More of his lips.

More of his tongue.

More of his touch.

More of him.

The hand that cupped your jaw moved higher, so that he held the side of your face. Suddenly, the harshness of his lips softened, and he slowed down. His kisses becoming longer and gentler, allowing you to catch your breath. Though it did nothing to lessen the shivers of pleasure racking your body nor the warmth surging within your heart. Nothing could quiet the explosion of sensation that was flowing and shuddering through you. Not when he was touching you, kissing you.

Then, he placed one last lingering peck on your swollen lips and pulled back. As he retreated and you struggled to control your breathing, the entirety of what he just did hit you. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, not sure of what just happened.

SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!?

“W-Why would you do that?” You asked him shakily, partially because you were still breathless and partially because you were so scared he would hurt your heart… again.

He leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. “I…I lied.”

“Um…” You responded in a small voice. “Lied about what?”

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths before staring straight into your eyes.

“I lied about not being attracted to you… fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea what you do to me.” You stilled as he tightened his fingers in your hair and swept his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’re the most beautiful flower I’ve ever seen… and every single day you make me want you even more.”

previous [16] — next [18]

taglist: @cookied-dreams @apurpledheart @james-herondale023 @lorengarcia-yut @kittycuptea @toddsgirl27 @a-feeling-of-euphoria @treatpeoplewithkindnesshoe @kthdior @taigaajin

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wolf-nir · 4 years

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I am writing this in full quarantine since there is not much to do besides overanalyzing each little thing too much. Thank you anxiety.

I will analyze everything from the beginning, but I will focus mainly on Hawks, Twice and Dabi.

So, first of all, a minute of silence for all the shit Re-Destro had to go through in the last few months since he decided it was a good idea to fight the LOV. The guy really went through a lot and in the end, he's seeing his father's legacy and himself being destroyed, in addition to having lost the few people, he considered important.

(I declare that the defendant is in serious need of a vacation.)

Second. MY BABY, KAMINARI I KNEW I LOVED YOU FOR A REASON. I really want to do a character analysis on him, but I'm controlling myself because half of what I write will be me hyping my little Pikachu. I AM A PROUD MOM AND DON’T DENY IT.

(Now, please, that all his theories of being a traitor are gone because I'm tired of having my heart broken.)

Also, please appreciate the magnificence of Midnight because I love this woman too much to be health.

Now, to the real shit hole.

We barely started and we are already shown that Hawks are not there for jokes. So far we've only seen him lose all his feathers once and it was during his rescue actions during the High-End.

Basically, this chicken knows what Twice is capable of and is ready to go with everything.

The scariest thing is not knowing that the Hawks already know that they will need to fight Jin, but the almost relaxed way he seems to use to explain how he managed to accomplish his mission.

(Now, a useless little lecture on scenario structures and scenes for free to you.)

See this? From the moment that Hawks starts his dialogue, he is completely in the shadows or hiding his facial expressions.

In some situations, this shadow cast on a character's face means that

a) he may be emotionally out of control (think in Gon from hxh)

b) ready to commit some violent/criminal action or

c) that he is revealing something forbidden to someone who shouldn't know about this.

At first, I thought it would be the second case. Hawks is clearly prepared to attack Twice at any wrong move on the part of the villain, the predatory eyes, with unusual pupils and enlarged in a way that makes you feel fear are clear signs of this.

The thing is. Hawks' speech and even his stance (not counting the feathers) tell a totally different story.

Keigo slowly approaches Jin, the two feathers he uses as a sword in a relaxed, downward grip, as if clearly saying that Hawks has no intention of attacking. Of course, maybe it's because Hawks is confident enough in his ability to control his already sharp feathers and surrounding Twice and even with all this clear threat, Hawks still asks Jin not to resist.

Many may think that maybe it’s because Hawks is wary of Twice’s ability, but Hawks- no, Keigo, created a kind of connection with Jin in earlier chapters, one that seemed to go beyond a simple infiltration attempt and perhaps “use the weakest link” kind of thing. So Keigo asking Twice to surrender almost willingly is more of a sincere request than a veiled threat.

So we can say that this situation is heading towards the third option, in which Hawks genuinely says what he thinks (finally dude).

Please, a minute of silence for my baby's suffering. Twice finally realizing that Hawks is a traitor is the most painful thing I have seen since the last All Might fight. Worst of all is seeing him blaming himself and remembering the last time he trusted someone outside the family he found at LOV.

Returning. It's super interesting to see the use of contrast of light and shadow here.

The entire appearance of Hawks is in the shadows, he looks more like a villain than Twice himself. It's like this scene is showing us through images of the Hawks' double agent role, showing him completely in the dark, with only his eyes distinct enough, showing that he's always been there to spy. Unlike Twice, which is completely in the light, and even covered by the mask, its expressions are completely exposed.

This is all very cool and ironic, since Hawks is, technically, the good guy, but he finds himself in a position that only villains find themselves when they are drawn in the moments when he intends to attack one of the good guys or protagonist. But Twice is completely engulfed by the light, portraying him in the ordinary role of the hero and, at the same time, transforming him into someone vulnerable, leaving no loopholes for him to hide his feelings of anguish.

(Ouch, these flashbacks from Jin are killing me.)

“How sad is it if nobody trusts you?”

That, right there, is the golden question. Or we can call it the key to the pandora box.

It's just a sentence, but it makes us reflect on how, because of all that the Hawks have gone through to become who he is now, Keigo has never really shown himself to be a character with great connections or someone trustworthy.

And it is noticeable when we see him interact with other Pro-Heros or the Commission. Dude, in the first meeting with the Commission, he shows exactly this scepticism when he reveals that he knows information that the organization itself was trying to keep completely confidential.

He doesn't let anything be a secret and he has said that he always prefers the truth, even if for that truth to be revealed he has to “get his hands dirty”.

Hawks doesn't trust anyone, maybe, but himself. Sure, he trusts that heroes will do their job and that they are reliable in that, but he is still the type to investigate everything he can in any situation, even when he shouldn't know anything.

(Clear paranoia and trust issues, but with such a shitty childhood, who would never?)

As a morally grey character, this desire to always know everything and to have control over things around him is quite predictable, but it also shows that Hawks doesn’t necessarily create a connection with people without seeing some kind of benefit behind it.

Hawks works with Endeavor and tells him his own truth (and perhaps ideology) because he knows that, even if Enji doesn't understand his point of view or doesn't like how he does his job, Endeavor is still Hero # 1 and he needs that strength. Honestly, for me, none of the Hawks' interactions with Enji suggests that the Hawks really are some kind of Endeavor fan anymore like when he was a kid, he just sees the merits of maintaining a friendly relationship with Endeavor since he is Hero # 1 and for to believe that Enji can bring a new image to heroism that differs from all the fanaticism around the image of All Might being the "Symbol of Peace".

NOW. Enough of my improvised character analysis on Hawks and let's skip to what matters because I'm already like Izuku, murmuring incomprehensibly at this point.

THE SHADOWS ARE FADING!

It starts very slowly as if Horikoshi is creating a climax to reveal exactly what Hawks really thinks, or rather what Takami Keigo really thinks and believes. So far we've only seen Hawks, the Hero, but never Keigo, the only time we had a concrete glimpse of the person behind the hero was in the dialogue between him and Twice.

At that moment Keigo really let himself be vulnerable because he found himself mirrored (perhaps in the worst ways) in Jin. Two men with life experiences and opposing paths, but who are still connected by how mentally fucked up they came out of everything they went through.

(What a beautiful friendship *sobs*)

AND NOT ONLY THAT! It's not just Hawks being as true as possible at that moment that makes the shadows disappear, but also the fact that he, a hero, believes in the recovery of a villain, to believe and declare that Twice is a good person, that he deserves a second chance.

And you know what? At first, I thought it was just that. Hawks recognizing that a villain deserved a second chance. But honestly? It’s much more.

Remember this?

We have already stated that Hawks is not the type of person who likes to lie (he can and has done it before, but he prefers to speak the truth in most cases), so when he tells Twice how he feels caged because of the current system, I don't think he's lying. Especially because his entire life Hawks has always been in a beautiful golden cage.

So when he tells Twice that he is a good person, that he can get a second chance, Hawks is implicitly saying that Jin can get rid of his own cage, that is, the role of villain that he ended up playing in search of acceptance.

Hawks believes that, unlike him, Twice still has a chance to have the freedom of choice that the two never really had.

Note that I use the word “believe”, simply because Twice's reaction and what he says clearly shows that Hawks is being naive in his own way.

And Keigo knows that.

He knows that his words are empty promises. The Hero Commission would never lend itself to the role of creating a rehabilitation program for a Class S villain, especially one who is part of the antagonist group that almost managed to destroy the reputation of the Heroes and the UA, which has a great reputation for the Hero Course. Besides that Hawks himself made it clear that Twice, because of his quirk, was one of the most dangerous villains among the League.

Notice how Hawks tries to stop Twice from talking. And I understand don't wanting to be called out in his own bullshit. Hawks acknowledge that Twice is a good person goes against everything that he was trained to believe from a young age, and then, having to see Jin also breaking his expectations when telling the reality of the situation certainly messes with him.

Hawks' expression is quite revealing at the moment, he seems sad to face reality, even reaching the point of acting in denial. He seems ready to attack, but in the sense that he wants Twice to stop telling the truth of the situation.

(Now look at that, my baby is crying and is your fault Hawks.)

Keigo doesn't want to fight Twice, but that doesn't change the fact that he has to. Keigo betrayed the League, the family that Jin finally found, and worst of all, used Twice to achieve this.

If Hawks really thought that Jin wouldn't fight him after doing so then he certainly doesn't remember what happened to Chisaki. The League takes care of each other. Especially Twice who is the most open to declaring how important other members are to him.

Now a minute of silence to admire the work of art that is this picture. Twice using Sad Man’s Parade always makes me excited and sad at the same time.

(You go, boy! This is what I call loyalty. You can say what you want about the League, but you can never say that they don't care about each other.)

Okay, a lot is going on one a single page, omg.

Hawks' resigned expression made me want to curl up in a corner and cry. But then we have Dabi's magnificent manic smile at his side and it is difficult to feel sad.

I saw a lot of people debating whether the sentence on this page was said by Hawks or Dabi, but after searching almost all the sites to read the chapter, it's very clear that the sentence is from Dabi.

Besides, it would be kind of out of character for Hawks to think that heroes are trash when he knows and agrees that heroes are needed in today's society, even if the ideal future he wants is the opposite.

So yes, that phrase is from Dabi, and you know? It’s the only good thing in the entire chapter. Hawks and Dabi indirectly agreeing that Twice is a good person is my jam.

Looking further and throwing some theories here, this statement by Dabi can go far beyond Dabi by not blaming Twice for the heroes' attack. It could have something to do with his own secret past *insert Touya's theory here* and it could mean that in the next chapters we will either have a bloody fight or we will have more clues to Dabi's past and a bloody fight.

Anyway, my friends, Dabi will burn a chicken in the next chapter.

(Ok, so this is the end and Jesus fucking Christ, I don't even know if it makes sense, but yeah.)

(if anyone wants to know about my analysis on Hawks and Dabi character, let me know that it might motivate me to finally finishing write this shit that’s been sitting on my google docs for a long time to be healthy)

#bnha #bnha 264 #bnha spoilers #bnha dabi #bnha hawks #bnha twice #chapter analysis #i'm dead tired after writing this #MY BABY DON'T DESERVE TO SUFFER #HORIKOSHI WHAT ARE YOU DOING

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templepurohit · 3 years

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Shiva and Shakti - Shakti Vishista Advait Philosophy Pure existence (Shiva) is pure consciousness (Shakti), consciousness is the dynamic aspect of Shiva, that is conceived and described as his Shakti. This Shakti is not conceived as any distinct attribute or quality or any special feature of Shiva. Shiva’s Shakti is no other than Shiva himself. In this transcendent nature Shiva appears as if without Shakti, since she has no outer expression in that state. But in reality Shakti is not then altogether absent. The dynamic aspect of Shiva is then perfectly identified with and is distinguishable from his transcendent aspect. In his phenomenal self-expression the dynamic aspect is more predominant; Shiva then reveals himself as Shakti. The manifold self-expressions of Shakti in the spatio-temporal order are also essentially non-different from Shakti and hence from Shiva. The world process is conceived by Veerashaivism as Shiva-Shakti vilasa or sidvilasa; the spirit in playful garbs and the tidal wave of bliss and beauty. The metaphysical theory of Veerashaivism is known as Shakti vishista advait. It maintains that what exists is alone cognized and that there is no bare negation. The absolute is not Shiva versus Maya but it is all Shivamaya. Reality and value are one and the more real a thing is, the more true it is. Shiva is eternal, pure and perfect and is the supreme. According to a Veerashaiva philosopher Shiva is the source and support of all phenomenal existence; the basis and goal of all terrestrial evolution. Empirical reality or phenomenal manifestation is the imperfect unfolding in time of an eternally complete self-existent Shiva or Sthala. Sthala is therefore the infinite and eternal rest into which all motion and dialectic are absorbed. The ultimate expression of this eternal being is self-consciousness. The question now arises: ‘Does not consciousness presuppose that which becomes conscious?’ Veerashaivism believes that it does. The synthetic unity of consciousness, that is, the logical element presupposes the illogical element, the I or the principle which becomes unified. This principle of “I-ness” or Ahamta, when considered per se, may be regarded as the matter of which thought consciousness is the form. Now this material moment has been ignored by many leaders of speculation and appearance of having transcended the distinction has been obtained by the hypostasis of form, the logic from its illogical matter, the hylo. He contends that the ultimate all-penetrating material moment gives us the aspect of being which is Shiva; the formal and actual moment gives up the aspect of knowing which is Shakti. There is not an unbridgeable gulf between being and knowing; for to know is as necessary as to be. If we admit a gulf between being and knowing, then the theory of Reality is sundered and an element of discrepancy creeps in. This tendency is discernible in the Kantian opposition between the noumenal and the phenomenal reality, the Bradleyan contrast between reality and appearance, Shankara’s distinction between the transcendental and the empirical. Veerashaivism avoids this impasse by accepting the trustworthiness of knowledge in all its four levels. The logical apprehension of Shivajnana as supremely real, leads to the intuitive realization of Shivanubhava. In Veerashaivism, Sthala has a philosophical connotation. The letter stha denotes the source from which the phenomenal world emerges and draws its substance; and the letter La denotes the goal to which it tends and in which it ultimately loses itself. The Svarupa if Shiva is Sacchidananda and this nature of Parashiva is well expressed in terms of his self-consciousness and bliss. The Divine is self-luminous, so is a jewel; but the jewel is not conscious of its luminosity, while the divine is both self-luminous and conscious of his self-luminosity. It is this self-consciousness of Shiva that goes by the name of Vimarsha, Atmavimarsha and Paramarsha whose characteristic is that in it consciousness and energy, knowledge and force are one. Vimarsha Shakti exists in Shiva by the relation of Samarasya or identity, just as heat and light exist by the relation of identity in the fire and the sun. In other words, between the substance and the attribute there is an inseparable union or essential identity which points to reality that continues to remain in the character of individual organic Whole. It is for this reason that Siddanta Shikhamani speaks of intrinsic and ever abiding in Shiva. Hence he is characterized and distinguished by his self-conscious power to work wonders. This is Shaktivishistadvaita. Here Vishista does not suggest any inseparable union of two or more entities like soul, world and God of the Ramanuya system or of South Indian Shaivism. Vishistattva simply connotes the nature of Vimarsha, namely the self-conscious power of Shiva. Because of this Divine energy or Chit-shakti which has the power of doing, undoing and doing otherwise, Shiva transforms Himself into the world without ceasing Himself to be. Hence, Veerashaivism maintains Shivaparinamavada. The theory of causation is known as Satkaryavada. It is a theory as to the relation of an effect to its material cause. This theory maintains that an effect originally exists in the material cause prior to its production. So the Sankhya causation means a real transformation of the material cause into the effect and this logically leads to the concept of Prakrti as the ultimate cause of the world of objects. The Sankhya, Yoga, Vedanta and Agamic schools uphold Satkaryavada – the doctrine of identity of cause and effect. Though there is an agreement as to the theory of causation among those schools, yet there is a divergence in their metaphysical conclusions. The Satkaryavada has two aspects – Parinamavada and Shivartavada. According to the former, when an effect is produced, there is a real transformation of the cause into the effect, that is, the production of a pot from clay or of the curd from the milk. The Sankhya is in favour of this view. The second view, which is accepted by the Advaita Vedanta, holds that the change of the cause into the effect is merely apparent when we see a snake in a rope, it is the case that the rope only appears as a snake. So God or Brahman does not become really transformed into the world produced by Him but remains identically the same, while we wrongly think that he undergoes change and becomes the world. Shankara therefore argues that evolution of the objects that constitute the world is illusory and Brahma is but the seeming material. “Brahman becomes the substratum of all phenomenal changes like evolution etc., superimposed on him by avidya; in his real nature he remains beyond all phenomenal changes.” Ramanuya attributes to Brahma even in his causal state, a subtle body made up of individual souls and Prakrti that have become absorbed in Him. During the material state, when the world is in manifestation, it is this body of His that evolves, He Himself remaining untransformed. In the case of Sankhya and Ramanuja, it is Prakrti Parinamavada but in Veerashaivism it is Shiva Brahma parinamavada. The world comes out of the very essence of Shiva and not from maya, or body or even power of God as found in the other systems. In upholding the doctrine of the transformation of essence (svarupa parinamavada), Veerashaivism remains most faithful to the Scriptural authority. God happens to be both the material and efficient cause of the world, though God becomes the world by the process of modification. He does not suffer any change within Himself. The world is the Sat-aspect of God and therefore a real manifestation of Him and not an illusion. It is non-different from Him; the relation between the two is that of the identity of cause and effect. The world gives us an idea of the greatness of God, and those who realize this greatness cannot but worship Him. In the words of Hegel, the reality of the world supplies the individual with the religion of majesty in which the reflecting mind is overwhelmed by the contemplation of the manifestation of the Divine Being. On the strength of Svarupa-parinamavada, Veerashaivism conceives the spirit of God as absolutely perfect (Shiva) and infinitely dynamic (Shakti). Shiva is pure existence and pure existence is the characteristic of Reality. It indicates not only the negation of non-existence but also the negation of all forms of imperfect existence. Such a state of experience may appear as void or shunya to the men of normal or empirical experience, but that transcendent state of experience is the state of perfect fulfilment of all earnest endeavours for liberation from all limitations and realization of the Absolute Truth. Pure existence (Shiva) is pure consciousness (Shakti), consciousness is the dynamic aspect of Shiva, that is conceived and described as his Shakti. This Shakti is not conceived as any distinct attribute or quality or any special feature of Shiva. Shiva’s Shakti is no other than Shiva himself. In this transcendent nature Shiva appears as if without Shakti, since she has no outer expression in that state. But in reality Shakti is not then altogether absent. The dynamic aspect of Shiva is then perfectly identified with and is distinguishable from his transcendent aspect. In his phenomenal self-expression the dynamic aspect is more predominant; Shiva then reveals himself as Shakti. The manifold self-expressions of Shakti in the spatio-temporal order are also essentially non-different from Shakti and hence from Shiva. The world process is conceived by Veerashaivism as Shiva-Shakti vilasa or sidvilasa; the spirit in playful garbs and the tidal wave of bliss and beauty. https://ift.tt/3eZ6gWF

#Hinduism #Hindugods #india #vedas #mantras #spirituality

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talesfromthefade · 4 years

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Cadence Tabris x Anders (Post-DA2), for @dadrunkwriting, @contreparry, & @apostatetabris

“I should cut it,” Cadence mutters, rubbing the strand of hair between his fingers thoughtfully where he sits between their lover’s legs, wrapped in his arms.

“Don’t you dare,” Anders replies immediately, the ferocity of his words contrasting the soft volume with which they’re uttered in the quiet of the small room they’ve rented for the night, as the mage’s arms wind a little tighter around him.

“You have to admit it’s distinctive. Everyone knows what I look like with long hair like this. Cutting it might-”

“You love your hair,” Anders shakes his head, as if this is reason enough to ignore the risk that may come in keeping it. “Don’t you?” Cadence nods. There was a time when he wouldn’t have asked. When Anders was sure of himself, sure of how well he knew his lover. It kills them a little that he has to ask now. It’s understandable, they suppose, probably reasonable, after the many years the two of them have been apart, this time both need to relearn these things and reassure themselves they haven’t changed that much, not with anything fundamental. Or, Cadence amends, thinking of Justice, not in any way either can’t cope with, at least.

“Do you want to cut it,” Anders asks, carefully brushing brunette locks aside on Cadence’s shoulder to perch his chin on it.

“No.” The response is so soft it might have been easily missed if the healer weren’t pressed in so close. It doesn’t feel right to say it louder. It hardly feels right even to say no. Can they afford for them to say no? To be so silly or sentimental as two people on the run and trying to keep their heads down?

“Then don’t,” Anders whispers softly, squeezing them softly in his arms once more. “You have suffered and made enough sacrifices for me, my love,” he interrupts as Cadence opens their mouth to argue, pressing a fleeting kiss to the column of his lover’s throat.

“I’d make more,” Cadence answers immediately, “for you.” Anything, Cadence thinks. Whatever you need, knowing Anders will hear these words as clearly as their spoken ones.

“And I daresay you will have to sooner or later,” Anders frowns ruefully, amber eyes full of sorrow and apologies. “But not this,” he continues, shaking his head again, voice still soft, but firmer now as gentle fingers comb through their hair to massage and caress their scalp.

“It’d grow back eventually,” Cadence offers up as a final protest.

“We both know it’s not really about your hair.”

Cadence frowns. He remembers then, the story Cadence once drunkenly shared about his father shearing their head, how they’d started growing it out again- at first in protest- after their mother died, how they’ve maintained it since.

“I realize the sort of life we’ve agreed to by being together will mean going without some luxuries, but… there are other ways of going unnoticed. Clothing, glamours… Cady, I would hate- I would never ask you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable in your own skin. I want you to love the person you see in the mirror every day as much as I do. What kind of a life are we preserving if you don’t? Your hair is important to you, it is a part of you, you love it, which makes it important to me. Keep it. Please.”

Cadence sighs, although it’s impossible to say break down how much of its makeup is resignation to Anders’ inevitable strong will, and their relief. They nod, and Anders rewards them with another featherlight kiss on their shoulder where their tunic has slipped to expose bare skin, another on their throat again, their jaw as gentle fingers coax their head to turn so their lips can meet.

“I love you,” Anders whispers softly as if it needs saying. As if everything he’s just said, everything he’s done or offered to do for Cadence in this simple gesture and the hundreds of others over the course of all their time together doesn’t already say it, just as plain, just as loud.

“I love you too,” Cadence whispers back between another lingering kiss.

#dadrunkwriting #warden x anders #anders x warden #anders #dragon age #tabris #cadence tabris #tales:cadence

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attemptingthoughtfulness · 4 years

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if you don’t want to talk about racism in media, you shouldn’t try teaching racism through media

(or: using minority exploitation and suffering to teach minority exploitation and suffering by appropriating a movie that appropriates minority exploitation and suffering.)

(CW: brief discussion of rape in the movie “Gran Torino”, also spoilers for said movie)

I’ve recently been having a lot of flashbacks to elementary school, kindergarden and I am still pretty much scarred from high school, so let’s talk about the usage of media in high school and the utter lack of care or competence on the side of some of my teachers.

We watched Clint Eastwood’s “Gran Torino” in English class and thinking back at it, there’s a lot of stuff that we didn’t talk about which would have been very fundamental to understanding media, so let’s start with that.

Who are hero and villain? The hero, Walt, is a old, white veteran played by Clint Eastwood. He starts off as a racist and “learns his ways” by interacting with a Hmong minority that moved in next doors. He helps the youngest son to “man up” and eventually dies in a crucifixion pose saving that family. If you wanted to be cynical you could say he’s the manifestation of a white saviour complex and toxic masculinity... The Hmong family next doors basically consists of a mother, a son and a daughter. The son is a little bit of a nerd and his cousin (named “Spider”) tries to force him into joining a gang but he refuses. That conflict culmulates in the gang shooting at the house and raping the sister.

So, as we go on to discuss several rather problematic aspects, keep in mind that we talked about none of this in class even as I asked the teacher about it. Before we even start off: Walt constantly refers to minorities with a racial slur and it is never addressed. Neither in the movie or in the classroom we watched the movie in. And maybe that makes sense within the movie’s internal logic but your main charachter, who you, the writer and teacher, chose to portray as a hero still uses a whole bunch of racial slurs and it’s frankly amazing that you don’t talk about that a lot. Like, the really stupid analysis would have been “Oh, he uses a lot of racial slurs in the beginning but then stops using it as he becomes less racist, it’s character development!”, but he never once apologizes for them, he never once gets corrected or gets told how hurtful those are. Why not talk about it?

And ultimately this is a lot about the choices you make when telling a story, who you decide to be a hero and frame in a fucking crucifixion pose, who gets to be the villain and what means become important.

Speaking of the villain: The villain is literally a part of a Hmong family, like the gang is framed in the most ridiculous light as they drive their pathetic car while listening to “fuck the police” but they get very cruel very fast as Spider shoots the house of his aunt and rapes his cousin with his friends which makes them quite abominable and barbaric. There is deep cutting sexual assault but it’s nothing but a means for Walt and his little apprentice to get upset and seek revence. You could probably substitute a literal gang rape for like burning a house down, or stealing some precious thing, it’s just weird that they chose to make it sexual assault. The sister, throughout the movie, takes a role in the background and kinda just naggs her brother, teases him and tries to banter in the most annoying way possible. And then she gets raped and if you think too hard about it, it seems a lot like her character was developed to serve that narrative purpose.

The movie also talks about the problems this Hmong community is facing, but it also kinda shows them as comically evil, there is no question who the good guy is - and who the bad guy is. What I am getting at is: why is the villain a Hmong gang and not.. I don’t know, the police? Gang violence is a huge problem for minorities - police violence is too and one kind of doesn’t frame an entire ethnic group as in need of help or barbaric. And yes, gang problems do exist in real life, but the active decision to depict it instead of the inherent flaws in the socio economic system that has enforced centuries of discrimination, is the important point. Interestingly, the movie does address the utter uselessness of the police briefly and kinda advertises the anarchist “taking things into your own hands” approach. As real as gang violence is, such is racial profiling or the fraud system - why not talk about it? Because that makes the black and white distinction of heroes and villains get a little fuzzy and who would want nuanced and complex themes?

Masculinity is used in connection to power tools, weapons and old but fancy cars. The son of the family (I forgot his name) is smart, he wants to go to university, he helps his mother, he is emotional but that doesn’t matter. And maybe that’s a very self aware take on “all of these qualities don’t matter but as soon as he has his own tool belt, he gets validated from society” but for that to be the take, they focus way too little on the validation or the previous value of his person - the validation becomes implicit and he is mostly validated through Walt. With that: there is not a single strong female character except for the sister in there and that would be generous considering what happens. Thinking of it, here are like three whole female characters in the entire movie.

Let’s get to the weapons. It’s no secret that Clint Eastwood is a conservative and it’s also a huge gimmik of the movie that “the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun, is a good guy with a gun” - no question asked about gun control. Guns are the cause for a lot of pain in the movie, but the hero is constantly glorified for his use and ownership of weapons, so there is absolutely not critical thought towards that one. Since Walt is a veteran too, there is a dash of at least value in military accomplishments too.

You could definitely argue that not all of these things are explicitly in there or that it probably wasn’t the intention of the screen play writer - but it still matters for media understanding to be aware of all of that. Of the fact that decisions are actively made and those are inherently political. Whose story you chose to tell is an observation that is incredibly crucial. You could also ask why I even bring these complex topics into English class? I mean, it’s high school. And I definitely agree that these questions cannot be talked about in a usual English class - but then tell my why my teachers wanted to talk about them soooo bad. The whole overarching theme of English finals was “belonging”, especially in contrast of its opposite of discrimination. They try so hard to make English skills about important social issues - they just fail doing so.

I am fully aware that the movie “Gran Torino” is just a means to teach the English skills necessary to pass English finals. They want you to learn about the history around the movie, cherry pick their way through topics they can get into 90 minute sessions, mostly avoiding debates about the movie tiself. I am fully aware that discussing racism in English class doesn’t aim to talk about these problems but to teach you the skills you need to pass finals. And that makes me cringe very hard because that means they’re quite literally using painful experiences to do that without having put a lot of thought into that.

One of my worst ethics teachers couldn’t tell me why I should care about Immanuel Kant’s work when he was this massive racist and sexist. He couldn’t tell me. And it is important to reailze that either he doesn’t have the capacity to think about that or he didn’t care enough to ask himself that question and I don’t know which one is worse. The same goes for chosing a movie that glorifies masculitiny and a white saviour to teach about belonging. Why not talk about the fact that nearly 50% of all homeless youth in the US is LGBTQ+? You need to be able to justify the decisions you make and the reasons why you don’t talk about certain things - and if that reason is called what the ministry of education tells you to do, they should have come equipped with an answer!

So. Why care? I love taking examples a ad hitlerum because that makes people realize the importance of the situation. If we were to read Mein Kampf in class, you would want the teachers to be a) able to understand the underlying problems of the material and talk about it to students and b) able to justify why the fuck they are reading Mein Kampf in class. I’m not saying Immanuel Kant’s ethics and Clint Eastwood’s “Gran Torino” are as bad as Mein Kampf, I’m saying that these are the kind of questions you have to ask yourself as an educational institution when teaching and chosing things worth teaching.

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theorynexus · 4 years

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This would seem to bring us to Post Number 60, the 62nd post of this series, if you count the decimalized ones.

LAST TIME ON MEAT EPILOGUE It would seem we are returning to John and Terezi, this time--- wooo!~ Apparently, he looks pretty bad. This is unfortunate. On the other hand: YES, MEAT EPILOGUE CHAPTER/SECTION 6!!!

Hey, don’t try to shame John for being the sub in this situation. It’s not like he has experience with that kind of thing (not that it’s something generally to be ashamed of: I’m just saying that it is something he seems to be somewhat embarrassed about, and his inexperience meant that it wasn’t exactly by choice on his part--- which is not to suggest that Terezi molested him in any way). Aaaannnd Trolls (especially highbloods) are supposed to be particularly vicious in nature, generally, right? It makes a whole lot of sense that that would extend to the bedroom, as well.

... But yeah, that doesn’t help with his health. He was already doing pretty badly, just after the surgery. He didn’t really need that sort of mess tacked on afterward. Oh, and... why “mysteriously” sticky, you derp? XD

And I am glad you were kidding. (That slapping was very interesting to hear. Hmmm.) Yeah, him being confused and uncertain about it also feels just about right~ ~~~ On a random note, I am reading this just after going through the memo where Karkat, John, and Dave were talking about romance/the propagation of the species, and KK insisted that John and Dave stay away from troll women. That makes this all wonderfully hilarious, in retrospect.

Huh. I’ve never seen “cuckold” used in that sort of context before. Indeed, this is quite the question, though. Could John Egbert handle a blackrom? A caligionous one, at that? A very hard question, that is. I’m not sure he’s emotionally capable of giving himself into the kinds of hate and playful ribbing that would be constantly involved in that kind of relationship, if healthy. I suspect it might have been just a particularly violent flushed thing, though. We’ll see.

Pffft. Slithers. That said: Huh. I was not expecting that turn. Let’s see where this goes~

Oh my gosh, Dirk, would you stop being such a downer? XD I think this is indeed very, very cute~ Soul-shattering is a weird sort of term to use there, for a normal person. Seems right for Dirk, though. He understands the nuances of how shattering can be more or less than a whole break.

That is practically the definition of a subjective judgment. I know you’re being ironic and all, but come on, man, that’s just base as heck. But yeah, I think he might have it bad, indeed.

The question here is, “Does he mean to suggest that Andrew Hussie is God to him, or does he mistakenly [in the context of Homestuck, which has given no distinct evidence for it] believe that there was a God that he actually usurped?” “replaced” is a very interesting and useful word, here, given the working interpretation that I have is indeed that he is interpreting AH as God and likely believes him to have abandoned Homestuck, thus removed himself from his directorial capacity over its narrative, until he managed to take over.

WHY ARE NEITHER OF YOU THINKING OF RETCON-PORTING IN TO RESCUE HER FROM HER DEMISE BEFORE IT HAPPENS?!?!?!? But yeah, you really should get home and recover first, if it is possible.

Whoops. Not a good sign. Noooot a good sign.

The Power of Three is a very strong thing.

Here we gooooooo!!!~ The first time (I think) that I’ve continued a post beyond one page!!!

No. Also, probably Jake English. He has strange effects on people.

Wow, someone’s a bit miffed. That said: Hooray, acknowledgement by the narrative! :’D

I do not appreciate your repeated suggestions that Jake is dumb! That said: No. No, I do not want to engage in wanton promiscuity with such a man. I am, to put it quite simply, not interested in meaningless sexual encounters with people I am not deeply connected with. Even if I had such a bond with Jake English, I would not be inclined to engage in such activities. Quite frankly, I am not exactly partial to the type of equipment he sports. As for the political side of things... well, that’s complicated. Yeah, people can indeed become far too energized by the attractiveness of candidates and those associated with them, rather than their substance. Maybe that’s the case, here. I’d like to think that the actual results of the election will in fact prove people wrong. Maybe there will be exit polls that we can see excerpts of to judge things for certain. I don’t know~

FINALLY, SOMEONE FRICKING ADMIRES THE SUFFERER!!!

Eh? I mean, I guess even Dave and Karkat were acknowledging the possibility of a misstep. We’ll see what happens.

Heee’s probably gonna try to sabotage this, isn’t he? Also, I wish I were more familiar with human muscle anatomy.

“The Kibosh” is a good phrase to use. That said: ***snerk*** It’s like Karkat has wedding day jitters. XD

Man, it is annoying how spiteful you are toward him, Dirk. Can you give him a break for just a second? I mean, you probably caused the sweating to begin with.

Wow. Such dudebroism, which I just suddenly realized/-membered Dirk was supposed to slightly embody, somewhat. (I blame Gamebro Magazine, and the sharp contrast between the diction there and Dirk’s writing style.) That is a funny description, though, the brain-tonguing. Also, gosh, Jake is nervous.

Oh, hey, I think Dave’s going to finally get a feel for the Narrative, and maybe end up confronting Dirk. That will be incredibly interesting.

Wow, this is getting to him. It’s like he’s made of sugar, and someone’s just begun to drizzle water on him. Or maybe made of witch.

***lip curls up in a snarl*** Dave better make this quick. I am somehow edging on more angry at this Unreliable Narrator than I was before Alt!Calliope took over...!

Well, that’s, umm... interesting. Particularly, the cultivated Obfuscating Stupidity bit. But moreso the fact that Dirk will acknowledge he’s smarter than he seems.

Yes... I think I most definitely am more furious than ever at this piece of garbage, now. After the sweet taste of freedom that Jake was finally able to feel, and the burst of confidence he’d found in it, you pour all of this blithering waste on him? Jane was trying to use him! I’m sure she hasn’t loved him for a long time, and even then, I Jake never toyed with her heart intentionally, I’m sure! Grrrrr...!

Honestly, though, he brings up a complicated and intriguing question. Jake has definitely been used and abused throughout his history, and at least part of his recent activity to exploit his Hope-y Assets must have been Dirk’s doing, but how much of his sexually promiscuous revelry has actually been something that he would not and did not choose, say, as a result of his drinking problem, rather than him reveling in his identity as a

WORLD RENOWNED EXPLORER-NATURALIST-TREASURE HUNTER-ARCHEOLOGIST-SCIENTIST-ADVENTURER-BIG GAME HUNTER-BILLIONAIRE EXTRAORDINAIRE

just as your pre-Scratch self was? Regardless of the level of culpability he actually has in the matters of his life, he is nowhere near deserving of this kind of shaming, and Dirk should be ashamed of himself for this kind of disgusting behavior which he is almost certainly engaging in specifically to throw Jake off.

Oh, also, victim blaming is BS, and the answer is an unequivocal, “You, you insincere, megalomaniacal, self-justifying dirtbag.”

***is so fricking ANGRY that it is taking a great deal of willpower not to release a roar of primal fury and break my hand on my computer screen*** THIS IS NOT HOW HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS WORK!!! THAT IS NOT HOW SOMEONE WHO IS ACTUALLY WILLING TO SUBMIT TO YOU LIKE THAT WILL BEHAVE, YOU FFF--- ***RRRRRGH!!!***

YOU HAD BETTER NOT FRICKING LISTEN TO THIS GARBAGE, JAKE!!! RESIST HIS INFLUENCE, AND--- Huh. The thought just occurred to me that both Dave and Jake could be interpreted as stand-ins for Simon, if Dirk were Kamina (despite how different Kamina’s personality is from Dirk’s), because Simon really seems like he could be interpreted as a Page of Hope too, for some reason (but curse my ADHD! XwX) ---AND DEFEAT HIM WITH YOUR HOPE BUBBLE!!!

... At least he apologized. For what that is worth. This is going to seem so obvious to Dave, though. Obviously, he isn’t going to kill his Bro, but... well, let’s see how things turn out. Hmm. Also, this is hilarious insofar as it derailed the press conference and probably took away much of the steam that could have been generated for the Karkat/Vantas ticket by Jake’s endorsement, but it doesn’t exactly do all that much for Jane Crocker’s side, either. It was a very sickening and weird spectacle, but I am not sure how it will actually play out in their favor? Seems like it might cause Jane’s side trouble, and might cause tensions between them.

I still can never consistently remember what “smh” means. But yes, “HICCUP???” is right. STOP HIM, DAVE!!!

TACKLE HIM AWAY INTO THE FUTURE!!!

Realistically, he should have no problem with speed at all. Time power shown a la cheating with Jade in games should let him get there instantly, and even his flash step that he has shown since before entering the Game should allow him to get there on time. Man, Dirk is a prick about manipulating things. Especially since we are going to see things derailed and shift to another setting, right when Jake is supposedly going to make the biggest contribution he’ll ever make. WHICH DOESN’T EVEN FRICKING MAKE SENSE!!!

#Homestuck Epilogue #Homestuck Spoilers #Homestuck Liveblog #Rage #Dirk Strider #Evil #Piece of Garbage

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spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia · 5 years

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“Forgiveness”: A Ducktales Fanfic with Lena

Dedicated to lenasmagic, a blog on Tumblr.

“Gary, are you SURE you haven’t forgotten anything?”, Pricilla asked with that tone that implied that she was 100 % sure that Gary had most DEFINITELY forgotten something.

Gary rolled his eyes as he approached the pod door of his golden spacecraft that shined and glowed in the bright noon day sun.

“Pricilla, for the last time, I HAVEN’T forgotten anything!”, he complained, fishing in his golden pockets, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Really?”, she asked in disbelief, hands on her hips. She was taller than him, so it always gave him the impression that she was disappointed in him when she did that.

He was right.

“I’m telling you, I haven’t forgotten…”, Gary started, when suddenly it snapped and he realized that…

“…The keys.”, he sighed, resigned to his fate.

Pricilla closed her eyes, triumphant. “Yes, the keys. I told you so.”

“Hey, uh, your keys are here.”, a different voice suddenly rose up from the crowd of moonpeople walking around looking for their earthly… Or, well, moonly possessions.

You’d think that spotting a voice in a crowd of blue and purple aliens clad in golden armor would be difficult.

But hard as she tried, Lena Saberwing (formerly Lena De Spell, niece of one of the most evil people to ever live, but who’s thinking about that) couldn’t NOT stand out.

The teen duck with pink dyed hair that heavily contrasted with her mood, a black and grey striped shirt over a mint collared shirt that gave her a very different feel to the more simply dressed inhabitants of the planet, and most noticeably, purple eyeshadow that gave her a haunting or haunted look, depending on your perspective, stood in front of the moon people, a golden key chain in the palm of her hand.

If Gary and Pricilla knew the years of pain, suffering, self hatred and resentment buried deep in those black black pupils, they may have taken pity on the young girl, who held aloft their way back home.

But Gary and Pricilla didn’t, and space traffic WAS busy this time of year.

“Give me that!”, Gary snatched the keys, momentarily scraping Lena’s feathered palm, making her recoil for a second.

“What you deserve…”, a voice whispered, as it always did when she got hurt.

She had learned to mostly tune it out.

…Mostly.

“Hey!”, she protested, annoyed at the shabby treatment. “How about a thank you? I just helped you get off this crummy planet.”

Pricilla waved Lena’s protests off, as if they were some annoying fly or something, and not a living, breathing person… Er, Duck, in front of her.

“Whatever, young one. Let’s get out of here, Gary.”

Gary unlocked the pod and mumbled under his breath as Pricilla entered their craft.

“Gary do this, Gary do that…”, he muttered, and he lumbered inside, the door closing and the shuttle flying off into the deep unknown of space.

Gone.

Forever.

“Good riddance.”, Lena thought, and she frowned at the departing space crafts, all of which had moments ago been trying to kill her and all her friends.

Her family.

Her only family.

And they were going off scot free!

She kicked a pebble with her left green and white sneaker, annoyed at the injustice of it all!

What if someone she cared for had been hurt by these monsters?

Someone like Scrooge McDuck, or Mrs. Beakley, whom had given her another chance after all the damage she had caused?

Or someone closer to her, like her new friends Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck?

Or even worse: Her new adopted sister and lovable pain in the butt Violet Saberwing?

And Violet’s dads…

Correction: Her dads.

…Her dads. That felt… Weird.

And worst of all: What if Webby had been hurt?

Her best friend had been at the thick of the fighting, literally part of Earth’s last defense!

“But…”, Lena admitted, as she walked up to a hill overseeing the moon men spaceships. “I can’t exactly criticize others for nearly hurting my friends and family.”

Lena shivered for a moment as she got another intense flashback: A regular occurrence, but never a pleasant one.

“After all… I nearly did too.”

Oh no. She was sinking again.

And she was hearing a weird sound again.

One negative thought leads to another. Soon she’d be thinking about lying to Webby about their friendship, which would be followed by trying to steal Scrooge’s number one dime, followed by losing her body to her “loving” Aunt Magica, followed by being trapped for a YEAR as a shadow, followed by almost becoming Magica…

Lena suddenly realized that the weird sound she was hearing was her own hyperventilating, and, not wanting anyone to see, she clasped her beak with her right wind and clenched her left wing’s fist, hoping that she could force it out.

It didn’t really work, but thankfully, a distraction arose.

“So… Moon people.”

Lena had heard many distinct sounds in her life, but perhaps the driest (and right now, most thankfully distracting) sound she had ever heard was the voice of Violet Saberwing, her aforementioned adopted sister/giant pain.

Lena smiled in relief as she approached the hummingbird with a mint green shirt and average expression (though Lena had lived with her enough time to know that there was a small smile that was only reserved for her), and the two sisters stood face to face… Sort of.

Lena was very tall.

“Should that be something I should be worried about? Most kids my age are around her height.”, Lena thought, and she cringed. “Am I seriously getting angsty over my height as well?”

Violet nodded at the disappearing space craft with an educated sniff. “Must say, not only did I think that no one lived on the moon, but I didn’t think they’d be such…”

“Jerks?”, Lena offered, still frustrated with their behavior and conduct.

“I was going to say inhospitable invaders, but sure, jerks in laymans terms works too.”, Violet dryly joked (at least, Lena thought it was a joke. You could never tell with Violet).

The two stood in silence for a moment as the ships continued to lazily leave. There were MANY, MANY ships, so the evacuation would take some time.

Some people, like Lena and Violet, opted to stand and watch the ships go by. There were even those who sat on the grass and ate sandwiches, waving goodbye to the would be conquerors.

Others, though, were preparing to leave back to their homes and their sort of but not really normal lives.

Off the corner of her left eye, Lena spotted the McDuck family entering a number of sleek black limosuines.

She could see Scrooge, Webby still clinging to his chest, stepping in to the vehicle, or at least, trying to, since Dewey tried to backflip in.

She couldn’t hear anything, but she didn’t need to to see Scrooge humorously chide the energetic boy, or Webby giggle that lovable laugh of hers.

Huey was excitedly jotting down something in his Junior Woodchuck guide book (for sure all the “thrilling” moon facts he had learned in the last few hours), Della and Donald were laughing together for the first time in a decade, and Launchpad was trying to reattach the car door he had just broken.

Lena could see multiple faces in that crowd, faces she sort of recognized from the last few days, like that Darkwing what’s his name, and Gizmoduck, or faces that she had known for a long time, like Mrs. Beakly and Duckworth.

There were even faces she was only vaguely aware of, like Qucakfast and Gyro Gearloose.

But even those she didn’t recognize made her feel almost…

At home.

Like they were all one big family.

But Lena was honestly unsure if she could ever belong to that family.

What with…

“No!”, She demanded, furious with her mind. “No, I DON’T want to think about this!”

“I’m better now…”, she said to herself, but less assuredly.

For a few minutes, Lena and Violet sat silently as the ships departed, saying nothing, Lena lost in her thoughts, Violet trying her best not to think about the fact that her adopted sister was clearly suffering again.

Finally, Violet stood up and clicked her tongue.

“Welp, I’ve had all the fun one can possibly have from watching aliens enter spaceships.”

“Zero?”, Lena asked with half a smirk, looking up at her new little sister.

Violet again unleashed that small smile that only Lena got. “Around that amount.”

She looked back at her dads, who were waving at her next to the mini.

“Dad and Dad want us to come home and have a “Post Moonvasion Goulash”.”

“What the heck is that?”, Lena asked, humor laced in her words.

“Whatever it is, it’s going into our beaks. But they’re good cooks, so…”, Violet shrugged, and she started walking out.

Suddenly, she looked back at Lena, whose back was hunched and her shoulders were slumped as she stared at the lonely wet grass.

“…You… You coming?”

Hesitation could be heard, a rarity from Violet.

Not much phased the girl; she was a bit of an emotionless girl (which worried her fathers endlessly, much to her chargin).

However, if there was one thing that upset the bookworm, it was the sight of her new older sister depressed yet again.

Violet, however, was a smart kid; she knew that she wouldn’t be able to talk to Lena yet.

And if anyone could, they’d have to be particularly stubborn.

Violet knew that right now, that wasn’t her.

But she still asked an empty question, one she knew the answer to, hoping against hope that Lena would just come instead of spend the next few hours…

“You go ahead. I’ll… I’ll catch up.”, Lena breathed out breathlessly, her voice as distant as the moon that had brought upon her mood.

Violet nodded, knowing that this was to be the answer. “All right.”

She turned her back to Lena, half a sad look back.

“I’ll… I’ll keep a seat warm for you if you want to play Smash Bros.”

Lena nodded wordlessly.

“Cool.”, Violet remarked, and sighing, she began to walk up to her dads, trying to calculate how she would explain to her dads that Lena needed to feel bad again.

And for now…

Lena was alone.

Like always…

Lena was alone.

As she would always be…

Lena. Was.

Alone.

A light breeze blew gently, tickling her beak, making her wrinkle it.

Her eyes closed as she tried to breath deeply like Mrs. Beakly had suggested once.

Breath deeply, count to ten, and try to ignore the all encompassing guilt of existing.

Easier said then done.

But Lena never did do things easily, now did she?

Entering a lotus position (sort of. She needed to work on that, it wasn’t easy), Lena tried to focus only on good things.

“The past is behind me. The past is… Behind me.”, she said, shivering as she tried to ignore.

She tried SO HARD.

And she was SO TIRED.

“Think… About what you have.”, she said to herself, and she breathed deeply.

The wind blew through her hair, and she thought of Violet.

“I have a sister… And I have two dads. That’s cool. Some people have no dads. I’ve got two. Beat that.”

She took another deep breath, her words unsure.

“I have… Mrs. Beakly and Scrooge and Donald and Della and Launchpad looking after me. And I have Huey, Dewey and Louie.”

She took another deep breath, trying to ignore the terrifying feeling of inevitable depression.

“I have… Webby…”

She imagined herself grabbing hold of Webby’s hand, the friendship bracelets glowing…

Only for a strange yet familiar hand to grip her arm hard, removing the friendship bracelet in the process.

“Ow!”, Lena cried, and suddenly she saw herself back at the beach, contacting Aunt Magica.

“Aunt Magica…”, she had whispered, almost triumphantly. “I’m in.”

“This… Is your fault…”, a voice whispered.

Lena’s eyes widened and she turned to the voice, the waves crashing oddly muted, but her heartbeat pounding like a rocket launch in her ear. “Who said that? I’m… It’s not my…”

Suddenly she got smacked by an invisible hand, which flung her somewhere else.

Somewhere dark and cold.

“IT IS YOUR FAULT!”, the voice screeched, echoing and disappearing suddenly.

Turning around, Lena saw herself underground, lying to Mrs. Beakly over her allegiance.

“You lied…”

Lena looked around, searching for the voice that wasn’t there, yet also was.

“No I didn’t! I mean, I did, it’s just…”

“SILENCE!”, she got hit again, her beak throbbing now, forced tears dropping, lying on the ground, completely helpless.

“No… I…”

Suddenly she heard the tracks and the whistle.

The train was going to hit Beakly, just like last time.

“Beakly, look out!”, Lena screamed, but when she jumped at Beakly, she got hit by the train.

Waking up, she found herself in the shark she had created.

She had created.

Her fault.

Her fault

Her fau…

“Shut up!”, she shouted, eyes closed shut, but it wasn’t enough. The fingers kept pointing, pointing, pointing, changing, transforming, until they became…

“We’re friends, you beautiful idiot! I don’t care what you did!”

Lena wanted to believe that.

She HAD to believe that, it had to be true!

“Look at what you did for a body…”, the voice whispered again, leaving feedback in her ears, but Lena didn’t have time for guilt!

She had to save Webby and herself!

Sliding down like she had, she chanted “With the hand of my best friend…”

Lena glowed blue like she had then, and she could see Webby falling.

An excited smile popped on her face, redemption was right there for the taking!

“I bring about…”

But as she reached towards Webby, the invisible hand choked her, lifting her up from the ground.

Lena grasped and throttled, barely calling out Webby’s name as the duckling fell down and down and down and down…

“WEBBY!”, she screamed, tears falling, her vocal chords nearly damaged, as she got dropped down to the ground…

“TAKE. THE. DIME!”

And here she was, in the other bin, Scrooge’s fabled Number One Dime almost at her grasp, Aunt Magica ordering, demanding her to seal the world’s fate…

Her hand slowly and surely reached…

“NO!”, Lena screamed, taking her hand away, but the invisible hand pulled her back towards it.

A tug of war occurred, Lena desperately trying to go away from the coin, the invisible hand dragging her back.

“Hands off of me, you… Hand!”, Lena shouted, and with a swift tug, she got out of the hands grasp and rolled away just in time to…

It glinted in her palm, just like last time.

“…Oh no…”, Lena whispered, failing to believe that she had done it.

“But why is it so hard to believe, Lena?”, the voice echoed in her mind as she went to her knees and held her head in fear, shame and panic.

“After all…”

Webby’s body fell from the money shark down to the ground next to her.

“WEBBY! Are you all…”

But Lena couldn’t finish the question. As she turned her friend around, the haunting image of a Webby doll stared right back at her.

Lena backed away in fright, barely reaching the wall behind her, gasping and hyperventilating.

“STOP IT! LET MY FRIEND GO!”, Lena screamed at the invisible hand.

“Stop what? What you’ve been doing?”

Another smack and Lena found herself in Magica’s hands, the witch’s face turning into her own, maliciously grinning at her.

“You’ve been using her, pulling her strings…”

Lena tried to escape, but the invisible hands held her tighter as Magica forcibly entered her soul and…

All was black.

All was lost.

Her eyes, her mind, her heart…

Poisoned to the core.

And here she was in the mansion.

Nearly destroying Scrooge’s life, the once great man laying distraught on the ground.

“Mr. McDuck? You don’t have to…”, Lena tried again to help, but the shadows came tumbling down around her, a vortex opening between her feet.

“It’s your fault they almost DIED!”

A kick to the chest nearly stopped her heart and her eyes rolled up to her head and…

Silence.

Shadows.

Nothing.

Seconds turn to minutes turn to hours turn to days turn to weeks turn to months…

“YOU HURT BEAKLEY!”

A punch like a train collided with her beak.

She tasted blood in her mouth and recoiled.

“YOU HURT SCROOGE!”

Her knees tripped and she smashed down to the ground, coughing out blood, her arms wobbling as she tried to stand up.

“YOU HURT THE McDUCK CLAN! YOUR CLOSEST THING TO A FAMILY!”

Multiple punches, kicks, pokes in the eye, scratches and slaps collided, hurt everywhere and nowhere, instantaneous and everlasting, inducing hot tears of shame that melted her face, retching out her soul.

The ethereal brightly lit soul, looking like Webby, reached out her hand, and Lean, desperate for redemption, reached out her hand in return.

The friendship bracelets returned, glowing brightly, Lena’s smile returning with joyful tears, hope seemingly back…

When Webby reached in and removed her heart.

“YOU HURT ME!”, Webby screeched, and pushed her off a cliff, Lena knowing she deserved it…

“No… That’s not true… It’s… Not my…”

Wake up.

Go to sleep.

Wake down.

Go to rest.

Wake on.

Go to the light.

Wake off…

DOWN TO THE DARK.

Lena crashed down, eyes braced for impact, only to be caught by…

“Violet?”, Lena asked, Violet right there, as ever, holding her back.

Lena burst into tears and cheered, nearly squishing Violet.

She smiled gratefully as her tears made Violet’s shirt wet, the hummingbird still silent.

“Violet! Oh my god, thank goodness you’re here! I almost…”

“ALMOST WHAT? HURT VIOLET?”, The voice returned, and Lena got held back as Violet was moved away, her eyes blank and lifeless, next to Webby, her Dads, Huey, Dewey, Lewie, Scrooge, Mrs. Beakley, Donald, Della, Launchpad…

“NO! I’D NEVER!”, Lena screamed back, when suddenly she saw a giant hand reach to hurt her family.

“STOP!”, She ordered, and she shot a blinding magic blast, purple light fizzing everywhere, sparks entering her eyes.

But at least the blast…

“…No…”, she mouthed, as she saw…

Empty eyes…

Limp hands…

Cold, unmoving bodies…

They were…

Dead…

“Because of you…”, the invisible voice whispered, this time almost gently.

Lena sobbed and sobbed as she got to her knees and held her face in her hands, crying tears, crying black magic, crying blood…

“Your fault… You killed them… You always did… It was you… From the very beginning…”

Lena suddenly felt herself changing, yet somehow staying the same…

She felt different, yet familiar…

A mirror was propped up between her and a wall, and Lena looked in to see…

“YOU were the villain.”

Magica’s face stared back at her, cackling.

Lena screamed, and anger and rage consuming her, she shouted “THAT’S. NOT. ME!”

She punched the mirror, but instead of the glass shattering, Magica’s face shattered, turning into…

“Me.”, she breathed out.

“You’re right, Lena…”,the voice said, taking shape as…

“You’re not Magica…”

Lena turned around to see…

Herself.

“You’re you.”

Lena stared back at the other Lena and vice versa.

The first looked like Lena always did, but the second was… different.

Her tears were black, her eyes were soulless, and her body was scarred beyond repair…

For some reason, Lena felt compelled to touch the other Lena’s hand…

So she stepped towards her…

And…

The two put their palms together…

“You’re you…”

Lena, smiling bravely despite it all, tried to wipe the black tears off of the other Lena…

WHOOSH!

It took a moment for Lena to realize that the weird wet thing she felt on her shirt was blood…

Spewing and gushing down from a gaping hole in her heart…

A diamond knife twisting harder and harder into her chest…

The other Lena crying and laughing, smiling and frowning, joyful and distraught…

“You’re you…”, the other Lena said…

“And that’s even worse than Magica.”

Lena tried to speak but no words formed.

The other Lena suddenly pushed Lena off the cliff, her family suddenly appearing, waving goodbye as she soared down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down and down no hope no hope all is lost all is lost it’s over it’s over I’m lost I’m lost life lost life lost love torn love gone love lost love found love taken pain granted wishes of pain slit and desist and stop and never come back the guilt is you and you are the guilt and your actions never lose their impact you try to swim but you sink because the depths of your shame know no limit and the folly of redemption is but a tick an illusion a n empty promise like your meaningless existence daring you to be anything more than what you are but you know you can’t because to your great and everlasting fault you are no one but…

“Me”

But just before Lena can finally sink to the bottom of the sea and gain everything by losing it all…

“Hey, Lena.”

Violently waking up, as if nothing had happened, Lena gasps and turns around suddenly, the voice now not belonging to herself but to…

Louie Duck.

“…Sup?”

Lena takes a moment to visualize her surroundings.

The Moon men ships are soaring in the sky, the grass is blowing softly near her feet and Louis is standing next to her, hands in his pockets.

The nightmare is over. She really is back.

But was that a good thing?

Right now, though, she didn’t have time to process the raw trauma she had just experience, since Louie was next to her, and she wanted to get rid of him before he caught on.

Taking a deep breath and trying her best to hide the terror and resignation from her voice, Lena said “…Hey Louie.”

Louie kept his hands in his hoodie pockets, a blank expression on his face.

It was hard to tell what he was really feeling, and usually that blank expression was accurate, but one got the feeling that this time it was an act.

“So… You watching the moon people leave?”

Lena nodded, hoping that would be good enough of an answer.

“All alone on this hill?”

Apparently, it wasn’t good enough of an answer.

“I’ve gotta get rid of him!”, Lena thought, calculating options quickly. “Maybe a barb will shut him up.”

“What’s the matter?”, she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Aren’t you busy taking over McDuck Enterprises and sending it down the toilet?”

Louie took it in stride, but Lena could tell that he was hiding his true feelings about that day. “Hey, that was last week. I’m a changed duck!”

“Wow. New Louie is only one week old and already as disappointing as old Louie.”

Lena knew she was being a jerk, but right now that was easier than sharing… All that.

Besides, she didn’t really have a relationship with Louie.

Sure, he had helped her with her nightmares, and she’d forever be in his debt for that, but that was about it.

“Oh, man.”, Lena thought, the hole in her chest hurting. “I sound like such an asshole.”

Louie however, did not take the insult that hard.

“Mind if I sit down?”

Lena did mind.

But it seemed like Louie would not take no for an answer.

Besides, she could just avoid it, she’d done it before!

So Lena patted the ground next to her, not daring to look at Louie out of fear that he’d see through her mask.

“Sit down, the grass is fine.”

So he sat down next to her, albeit with his back to her.

And for a while, the two ducklings did nothing but sit and breath, Lena’s heart hurting and Louie’s mind working overtime.

There were still a few moon people embarking their crafts, but they would all be gone soon, and Lena would have no excuse to stay.

She tried to come up with some kind of way to kick Louie out, but her mind came up with blanks, instead continuing to quietly and slowly hurl more and more guilt onto her.

Suddenly, Louie broke the silence. “…Why are you really sitting here?”

Lena didn’t want to answer.

So she said nothing.

Louie sighed. “Silent treatment?”

Lena still said nothing.

Louie sniffed for a moment, blinking at the clouds. “…Look, if you’re not going to tell me what’s on your mind, then I’ll tell you why you should tell me.”

Lena barely stifled a dark chuckle. “I should tell you? No offense, Louie, but I find it hard to believe that you of all people hold the key to making me feel less shitty.”

Louie objected to this, of course. “Come on! You’re not even willing to give me a chance to prove myself?”

“Well, let’s see: You broke the timestream, nearly losing your family, you scammed Glomgold out of his entire company, NOT that he didn’t deserve it, and, oh, there’s the little thing of taking over Scrooge’s company and almost running it into the ground in a day.” Lena scoffed and counted on her fingers.

Louie, half jokingly and half seriously defended himself. “Ok, ok, so mistakes were made…”

“Title of your autobiography.”, Lena quipped.

“I was thinking something more like “Louie Duck: Lit and Fit with Moolah in the Mint”, but sure, “Mistakes Were Made” works too.”

And again, silence fell.

For a moment, Lena thought she had avoided it for good, but then Louis spoke again, this time with a little more emotion.

“…I really could help you. If you’d let me.”

Lena sighed, knowing that the youngest duck triplet’s intentions were good, but misguided. “Look, Louie, it’s really cool of you to try, but…”

She left that sentence hanging, but Louie didn’t need the rest of it to interpret its meaning.

That didn’t stop him from insisting. “I’m telling you, I can at least try.”

Lena, tired of waiting, turned to him, anger in her eyes. Louie could also detect damp spots in said eyes, but he decided that he’d rather not die like that. “Louie, I’m serious: Stop trying.”

Louie knew that messing with Lena was a bad idea: She could get pretty mad, and he knew that he was no match physically for her.

But it didn’t stop him from staring right back, eyes narrowed with determination.

“Why? I’m tired of taking the easy route.”

Lena laughed. “Since when?”

“Since last week!”, Louie shouted back, slight emotion crawling into his voice.

“You can’t. Change. In a week!”, Lena emphasized, talking more to herself than to Louie.

“How are you so sure? How are you so sure that you can’t?”, Louie turned the tables.

Lena groaned, frustrated with his stubbornness. “Louie, you can’t help me!”

“Why?”, he shouted back, not expecting the following event.

Lena, finally out of patience, shoved him to the ground, angry tears flying off her eyes, a red face and a shaking body above him now.

“I. CAN’T. BE. HELPED!”

Realizing what she did, she turned her back to him, clenching her fists and looking down at the ground with shame.

She wished it could swallow her whole, leaving no trace.

But to her great misfortune…

She was still alive.

Louie slowly got up, dusting himself off, not averting his gaze from her hunched back and slumped shoulders.

“…No. You can’t be helped.”

Lena knew it was true, but it didn’t stop the shiver that emcommpassed her entire body.

But Louie wasn’t finished.

“You can’t be helped if you never let yourself be helped.”

“Sometimes, I really just want to deck that kid.”, Lena thought, and she turned around, pissed.

“Louie, for god’s sake, shut up…”

“No. Not until you hear me out.”

The two were in an unofficial stand still, a sort of unspoken staring contest, both refusing to break.

Lena desperately wanted to kick him out…

But at the same time, she knew that he wouldn’t leave without having his say.

Sighing, she turned her back again, and, muttering, she murmured “Fine. What do you want to say?”

Louie cleared his throat, knowing that he was now in the homestretch. He had to nail this or he’d lose his chance to help her.

And hard as it was for even him to believe, he wanted to help her.

Twiddling his thumbs, his usual confidence absent,, he started to make his point.

“As I’m sure you know, I can be kind of… Selfish and manipulative.”

Lena shook her head, failing to believe this. “Are we seriously talking about you?”

Louie quickly intervened. “Wait, wait, hear me out!”

Lena sighed and motioned for him to go on.

Louie kicked some grass and continued. “What I was trying to say is, as you know, I can be a real jerk.”

“Real asshole.”, Lena added.

“Yeah, that too.”

“And a dick.”, Lena added, now with a dry smile.

“Ok, that’s a bit much.”, Louie protested.

“And a prick, moron and cock.”

Louie dryly looked back at her. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, very.”, Lena admitted, enjoying the moment of relief.

Louie sighed. “Oh boy. Anyway, what I was trying to say, is that yes, I am all those things. And for a long time, I didn’t really think of the consequences of my actions.”

He started to get a little more serious, the memories of his past mistakes still a touchy matter.

Lena knew this, and she started to feel a little bad for barbing him so much. He too had regrets.

“I regret that. I regret tricking my family, I regret the timephoon, and I definitely regret taking over the company.”

Emotion broke into his voice, and Lena swore that she could hear a tear or two, but she refused to turn, still rejecting help.

That, and she didn’t want to embarrass him.

“I… I fucked up real bad.”

Lena snickered. “Gee, what a dirty mouth. You kiss your mother with that mouth, Lellwyn?”

“Oh, you bet! That dirty mouth didn’t even have that privilege until about 3 weeks ago! I’ll kiss her with my disgusting mouth as much as I want!”, Louie retorted jokingly, but Lena could tell that Louie really had missed his mom.

She wondered what that felt like.

Louie resumed his talk. “Anyhow… I… I didn’t realize I was wrong. I was sure that there was only one way in life for me: To scam everyone in my way, make it rich quick and live the easy life. But I see now that…”

He sighed. It was never easy to say this, but he had to for Lena’s sake.

“I see now that I was wrong.”

Lena sighed too. “Louie… You don’t have to be hard on yourself.”

Louie disagreed. “No. You’re wrong. I should be. I made big mistakes. And I need to fix them. And it will take time.”

Louie then smiled hopefully, a little at himself and a little at her. “But… Here’s the thing.”

He closed his eyes, feeling the wind in his hair. “The reason I’ve been able to live with myself… The reason I’m not just lying in my room hating myself for being suck a dick… Is because I took the first step towards redemption. Something you haven’t done.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, turning towards him. “…What are you talking about? What did I not do?”

Louie smiled softly, sympathy present in his eyes. “You didn’t forgive yourself.”

Lena gulped. In a way, she knew he was right, but at the same time…

“Louie… I can’t.”

“Why not?”, he asked, pressing her.

“I… I just can’t!”, Lena shot back, turning again, clutching herself, feeling cold.

“I… I’ve done too much. I’ve… I’ve fallen too far down.”

“No. You. Haven’t.”

Lena growled. “Louie, you don’t know what I’ve gone through.”

“Of course not. But answer me this: Did you choose to steal the number one dime?”

Lena turned to him, hands on her hips. “Uh, duh! Of course I did!”

“No, Magica did. You only did it because she told you to.”

“That doesn’t change what I did!”, Lena protested, attacking herself.

“Yes it does! You were being led astray by an abusive family figure! It’s a perfect excuse, ‘cause it’s not an excuse! It’s fucking abuse!”

Lena shook her head, not wanting to fool herself into believing. “Louie, even if that’s true…”

“Did you choose to make the money shark? Or the shadow war? Did you choose to let your body be taken over?”, Louie asked, disgust laced in his voice.

“Well…”, Lena had to admit, he was making a good point.

But she still felt so guilty.

“Well, I guess I…”

“No, no guessing. Yes or no.”

“But…”

“Yes or no.”

“Wait, I…”

“Yes. Or. No.”

“Listen, ok, it’s not that simple…”

Lena was spiraling, and Louie refused to budge.

“Yes or no, Lena! It IS simple!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Answer me!”

Lena shook and her head throbbed and her heart pounded and…

“Did you choose to be made?”

That was it. That was the million dollar question.

But the prize was most definitely not cash.

“NO, OK? I DIDN’T CHOOSE IT! I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO LIVE!”

Lena collapsed to her knees, weeping, not caring anymore who saw.

“I…”, she started weakly, her breath cold, her body aching.

“I didn’t choose to live. I didn’t ask for all of this.”

Louie stepped up to her, a look of pure sympathy painted on him. “…Exactly.”

Louie knelt down and embraced her, which surprised her. They were not huggers.

“Don’t dismember me.”, Louie asked, and Lena couldn’t help but smile at that.

“No promises…”, she said, through the tears.

Louie separated from the hug and gazed into her eyes.

“Lena… I get why you feel guilty. You almost hurt all the people you love, you helped an evil witch, and you nearly became her.”

He smiled encouragingly. “But you’re not. You were forced to do all this. You were being manipulated. Hurt. Controlled.”

Lena started listening, almost willing to accept it all.

“None of that was your fault. As you said, you didn’t ask for any of this: Magica did.”

Lena shook her head. “So what? That doesn’t absolve me for life.”

“Of course not. But…”

Louie nodded slowly. “You have something you didn’t have before. Something Magica never gave you.”

Lena stuttered out a question. “…W-What?”

“…A choice.”

The wind blew and the birds chirped and Lena took a deep breath.

“A choice?”, she asked.

Louie nodded, sitting down next to her. “I could choose to keep scamming. But I want to work hard from now on. I want to earn my riches. I want to do it the right way.”

He shrugged. “And if I don’t choose to do that, if I choose to revert to type, well… I’m choosing to be what I hate. I’m choosing to be the version I’m ashamed of.”

Lena nodded.

“I’m not saying you’re bad. ‘Cause you’re not. But if you decide that you are bad, well… You’ll never have a chance to be good.”

Louie smiled. “We’re all willing to forgive you, Lena. You’re family. But… Are you willing to forgive yourself?”

Lena hated to admit it… But he was right.

“Wow. You actually said something that didn’t piss me off.”

Louie laughed. “Yeah, I know, shocking.”

Lena suddenly hugged him.

“Woah.”, he exclaimed, surprised by this.

Lena now had happy tears. “Thanks for talking to me.”

She wiped the tears away as she separated herself from him. “…I know that… That I didn’t choose to do these things.”

She looked down in shame. “But I can’t help and feel like I did.”

Louie nodded. “The only way out is to forgive yourself. You’re not even giving yourself a chance to get better.”

Lena fearfully asked the question that terrified her: “…What if I still go bad?”

Louie sighed. “You won’t. You’re better than you think you are. You helped us all eve under Magica’s control. You’re a great person. Now it’s time to let yourself be that person.”

Lena looked back at the clouds.

Forgiving herself couldn’t be easy..

She still felt all the things she had done… No. All the things she had been forced to do.

Well… If that’s the case…

Then she hasn’t had a chance to actually BE bad.

Which mean, in a sense…

“I have a blank slate.”, she uttered quietly.

And if that was true…

Then…

Then there WAS hope.

If she had a blank slate, then she had just as much of a chance of ending up good as she did ending up bad.

For the first time in her life…

Lena had a choice.

Lena could try again.

One more chance.

Tears flowed down as Lena realized she could be who she wants to be.

She COULD.

And, despite spending so many years in the company of magic, that was the most magical thing she had ever seen.

“There really is still hope…”

Lena slowly stood up, following the last alien ship as it began to leave.

Closing her eyes, she projected all the mistakes she had made.

All the terrible things that she was forced to do.

Magica wasn’t her…

She was an illness.

To fight an illness, one must accept that it isn’t who they are.

But also…

To choose to fight it.

Lena could see that she could be good.

But she could never be good, be happy…

If she didn’t forgive herself.

A hand softly landed over her heart.

“…I didn’t choose to be like that. And I choose not to be.”

She closed her eyes tight. “From now on… I choose to be me. The real me.”

She smiled.

“I give myself… A chance.”

And that’s what she did, as her guilt flew away to the moon, far far away.

And as one last tear flowed down, Lena felt it.

Hope.

It would take time… Time to heal. To discover herself. To shut the voice down.

But…

One day…

She’d be good.

And she’d be happy.

And she’d be… Herself.

And that was truly magical.

#ducktales #ducktales fanfiction #Lena #lena ducktales #ducktales louie #ducktales season 2 #violet sabrewing #lena saberwing #saberwing sisters #moonvasion #lenasmagic

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asryakino · 5 years

Text

Bowden’s Cure Ch 2

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The long range comms picked up the larger ship only a few moments before the communication request came in. Nev just happened to be at the controls, calibrating the engines with Tyran when it came through. He send the request right back to the ship. Everyone had gotten at least six cycles of rest, most had been working on various repair, cleaning, or research. And Bowden, refreshed after a full nine had a chat with a few potential targets among the crew. He'd also put more than a few credits in the pool, his chits were on Del having pissed off some Terran high house. Del, to his credit, wasn't positive it wasn't his fault. The situation was still bothering Bowden, however, as something still didn't add up. That was when Mariele approached him. "Captain?" The quiet voice interrupted his throughts, the return comms signal had already gone through, and he was brushing off the signature coat. It took him longer than he would have admitted to realize where the quiet, unassuming voice came from.

Mariele rarely spoke. In fact, he could barely recall a time he'd heard more than a hundred words from her in the entire pont she'd been on the ship. "Mari." He answered shortly, then looked at her. She was frightened. No, she was terrified. His plates knitted together and he bent down to be just a bit closer to eye level. "What happened?" "I think it's my fault." Came the quiet, afraid response. Well, that got all of his neurons. He raised a hand, signaling to Nev with a snap. A wordless signal to get his second in command on deck -now-. "Mariele… what makes you think they're targeting you?" The old captain's brain was firing left, right and centre trying to place where they'd picked the blue-skinned Terranform. Some off spiral supply station? She'd been some stowaway on a cargo ship… "Captain." The short response came from his right side. "Aqua, Mariele seems to think our new friends may be her old friends. Thoughts?" By this point the blue-skinned and crystal eyed former stowaway looked as though she was going to shake herself to pieces on the main deck. Aquatani looked her over, smiled gently and seemed to regard her for several drops. "It may be possible, Captain. But the pool is still in Del's favour." The weak attempt at humour made Bowden stand just a tick stiffer.

"Get everyone on board. Nev, finish those calibrations while we're idle, disengage from the base and send them on their way." Things were lining up in Bowden's mind. He turned, a little sharper than he intended to, toward the terrified form of the ship's assistant medic. "I'll say again, whatever happened, I don't care about specifics. That's a past life. However." He bent his overly large frame, seemingly larger now that he'd put the ugly brown coat back on. "You're shaking worse than a leaf in a devil wind, Mariele. I won't ask but one question. Did you tell Aqua?" His second looked to him, Mariele looked shocked and, somehow, more frightened. Which told him everything he needed. He nodded shortly. "That's all I need. Aqua, I expect a full report -later-." He emphasized, then stood back to his full height. A hand went down on the innership comms console. "All crew, get your asses back on the Bowden. Now."

The false asteroid was floating away not even a cycle later, lost to the orbital cloud field and cloaked among the debris by the time the larger ship came into the ship's visual range. She was scuffed, tired, and old. But she was patiently waiting. So when the short range comms pinged with an open request, Bowden was ready to answer. On the screen a half dozen Terrans were poised at various positions. All slicked hair, multi-coloured private industry uniforms, and uninterested expressions. A sharp contrast to the distinctly inTerran crew consisting of: a purple, four-armed Gaarth captain; a skinny brown six-armed Klaxon navigation; a Terran-shaped android with blue covering and short white hair; and a pair of avian-like crewmembers in black/red and white. Neither crew looked particularly happy, though both captains wore vaguely acceptable neutral expressions.

"Greetings to you Polaris. Have we finished our game of tag?" Captain Hasser smirked. "Bit of engine trouble caused a slowdown, I suspect?" He allowed a smug twitch of his lip. "I have business with you Bowden, concerning a rather dangerous cargo you're carrying." "We're not a cargo ship, and you're being a bit rude, Captain. Seeing as you know me and mine, but didn't introduce yourself and your blind ship." The Terran seemed briefly insulted, or surprised. "Right. I did get a bit ahead of myself. My most sincere apologies, you must understand. Tales of your ship and crew do spread to the far systems from one arm to the next." He gave a short bow at the waist, the bare minimum of Captain-to-Captain respect. "I'm Cassian Hasser, Captain of the Startear. We'll speak more in person, Captain Bowden. I really am quite honoured to meet you face-to-face." He didn't allow a response, cutting the communication even as the smaller ship shook from the impact of tow cables. Bowden made a rude grunt in his throat before hitting the innership comms. "Crew, lock down in bunks. Essential crew to the top deck. We're being boarded."

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"Welcome aboard. Captain Cassian." Bowden didn't hide his displeasure at the Terran man's actions. But neither was he hostile. It was simply the proud demeanor of a leader who didn't appreciate the invasion of another. Cassian, on the other hand showed and gave off no air of ill will. Only the apparent unearned superiourity of most Terran high races "I've no fight with you, Captain Bowden. Just the opposite. I've grown up hearing the tales of you, your ship, and your crew. It's inspired countless others to take up a helm into the stars." "So you ran us into the dirt for nearly four docyce because of… admiration? Most just send a card. Some send explosives." Bowden gave his mimic of a Terran smile. His mandibles never -quite- getting the shape right, so it came across as nearly threatening. "Not at all." Cassian looked upward at the (In)famous captain. "But you're carrying an Atlemarian." He stated simply with finality.

Bowden stopped briefly. That statement threw him. "Do I look like the kind of man who would put myself, my crew, and every port I've ever been to in that kind of danger? There's no Atlemarians on this ship." If Bowden ever dealt in positives. This was the one thing even he knew. Atlemaria was a plagued world. Quarantined for generations now with the only surviving populations being deformed by plague scars. An interstellar prion disease that had ravaged three star systems before being contained via extreme measures. He'd seen the pain and suffering the Atlemarian disease had caused, the lives it had ripped down. "Terrifying. Isn't it?" Cassian's voice broke through Bowden's moment of thought. The Gaarth's eyes landed on, and narrowed at, the Terran Captain. "Not really. Since there's no such passenger on this ship. I keep extremely precise manifests, you're welcome to look them over." He shot back shortly. His secondary arms, folded under the ugly brown coat began to open. Aqua moved a half step closer to him, discreetly pressing her elbow into his hip. "I'll have a look. But while I inspect the manifest, my crew will search her out." A gloved hand lifted, sending two lines of Terran crew strode across the barrier and began making their way to the crew decks with an uncomfortable familiarity. "It won't take long, I assure you." That smug tone infuriated Bowden more than anything. More than the everlasting case, the stress, and the capture. Just that Terran smugness that he hated -so- much. Bowden's mandibles clicked slightly. He lifted a hand toward Fakeer, who delivered the manifest log in a tense handoff to the man.

"Who, precisely are you with? If you don't mind my asking. If the situation was this important, why go through all…" He motioned glibly with one large purple hand, eyeing the bold man. "I'm a privately interested party. We're researching the disease itself in search of a cure." "There is no cure. They've sought one for six generations and-" "Not yet. There isn't." Cassian interrupted. "But there is hope for one. Specifically in the 'Marian you've been unwittingly trafficking." "And I'm telling you I've never picked anyone up from that arm of th-." Bowden was growing annoyed, his hand balled tightly and resting on the back of his console. A high-pitched, terrified yelp broke through his defense and he turned sharply.

Bowden wasn't the only one to respond in defense of the terrified noise his medical assistant had made. He heard the distinct sound of four barrack doors open, and had to bark out a sharp "Quarters!" before Mariele's 'siblings' came out. The last thing he needed was a pissed off Deloth male trying to rip the arms off a dozen Terrans. He straightened up, as if he'd suddenly had a quasar steel rod implanted in his back. The doors slid shut. One. Two. Three. He turned to Aqua sharply. Who stalked, stiffly and straight, down the barracks. Four. Slowly he turned toward Cassian. Who, even if only briefly, seemed to realize -something- had been averted. Though he maintained the façade of being correct in his actions. Bowden carefully cleared his throat, Mariele was escorted to the ship-to-ship barrier by three Terrans who stood around her. He could see her. Unhurt, but shaking. He turned pointedly toward Hesser. "You seem to have mistaken my Glaxian medical assistant for your missing 'Marian plague victim, Captain. Considering her state of. A-hem, dress when we found her discarded with the rotten cargo, I can assure you, personally, she has no Atlemarian disease scars, or signs of ever having been to any affected planet in the Aquallous Arm." He squared his shoulders, rolling the tightened muscle down and discreetly shifting the tension down his smaller support arms, still folded tightly under the oversized coat. He tried to relax his expression, attempting to play off the mistake as some kind of joke. "Though I can see how, to a high Terran eyes, Glaxian and Atlemarians could look alike. I would suggest you release our medical assistant back into our care, since you're clearly mistaken." There was an edge to his tone. An edge that in the past had turned such smug men of multiple races into jelly-kneed apologists. A tone that promised the dislocation of several important body parts. A tone that did not fuck around.

And it fell flat on the Terran man. Who eyed Bowden, then casually passed the manifest log forward, holding it out as simply as if he had merely borrowed a tissue. "This is why we didn't simply attack you. To give her time to come to her senses. To realize who we were. To inform -you- of the truth, and do the right thing. A shame that the selfish creature has allowed you to live so ignorantly on your own ship, Captain Bowden. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you. But this woman…" Cassian reached blindly toward Mariele, snatching her wrist and pulled her forward, holding her up until her limbs were stretched out and she was balanced on her toes alone. He thrust her forward. "Has lied to you since day. One. Had we attacked, you would have defended her to your own last life. And no one should die for the lies of another. We tracked her after she escaped the quarantine zone on a supply crate. It took nearly a full urt to find out she had hidden away on -your- ship." He frowns sourly. "A ship that is so well known, so well protected, and so infamous that attacking without retaliation would be impossible. Sneaking aboard would be suicide. And simply requesting you turn her over would be fruitless." Bowden's body tensed. Had Aqua not returned and firmly lay a hand on his arm to physically remind him of what was at risk, he would have lunged forward and begun relieving the Terran m an of his digits. "Tell him." Cassian hissed. "Are you an Atlemarian?"

Mariele flinched, tears welled in her crystal clear eyes, her head nodded silently, tension leaving her body as a quiet sob caught in her chest. "My… name… is J'mari L'emuin… n-not Mariele J'nai." The small voice managed to hiccup out the name. Aquatani's hand gripped to Bowden's forearm in silent affirmation. Bowden's shoulders remained tense, even as he inhaled slowly. Cassian lowered the tiny woman until she was flat on her feet, shifting his grip to her shoulder. "Why?" It was all Bowden could manage. A single word that held a dozen questions. Both for the Terran, and his formerly trusted crewmate.

"Why… doesn't she have scars? Why hasn't anyone ever gotten sick, if she's been exposed to infection? Why did she flee the quarantine zone?" Cassian eyed the massive Gaarth with the self-assurance born of having answers. Why did she come to your ship of all the ships she could have escaped to?" Bowden nodded mutely, his face plates knitted so tightly across his expression they very nearly formed a mask. "She's immune." Cassian said shortly, simply. Just as if it were the answer to every question Bowden could ever have. "Fucking impossible." Bowden snapped. "It's true. One of -four- born on the entire planet. Different areas, different families, the exact same immunity. Total protein destruction. Not built immunity. Not an adapted immunity. Neither learned nor medical. Born immune, it can't even incubate in their blood. The rarest blood in the known universe." An emotion passed over Bowden. The expression on Cassian's face was changed. His tone only barely masked the excitement he felt, and just barely, a motion that would never have been noticed by another, he squeezed Mariele's wrist. "And she ran to the Star Farer himself. The one man in the entire universe who would never question her lie, who would allow her to join without an ounce of hesitation. The one ship in all the arms that she felt could protect her secret. Polaris-class, the most well known ship for nine galaxies, feared by another fifteen. Thomas Bowden and her Captain of the same name." Conceit oozed from the man as he explained. The self-same superiourity that made Bowden want to rip his smug little arms from their snug little sockets. Self-assured that he had all the answers and could lourde it over everyone on the main deck. "Over an urt I looked for her. I chose the least violent and safest way to retrieve her. This precious 'Marian child that holds within her the possible cure for the worst disease in the entire universe. Everyone's heard the stories of what you went through facing the disease when your crewmates fell to it. Had you been infected you'd've been locked on the planet with them." Bowden remained still. If he was breathing, even Aqua couldn't be sure. To break him free of the apparent spell, she squeezed his tightly coiled arm.

The squeeze made him inhale sharply. Deep blue eyes focusing suddenly, intently, intensely, on the other captain standing before him, delicate fingers laced around the even more delicate wrist of his medical assistant. He'd heard enough. Tension rolled out of his shoulders and down his back, making his shoulders droop in defeat. His head fell forward and his hands unclenched. Inch by inch, tension and anger rolled away from his posture. When he spoke the Gaarth's voice was as calm as it ever was and nearly emotionless. His eyes focused on his crewmate. He neither raised it in anger, nor lowered it in intimidation. His words were soft, unjudgemental, and seeking only the reassurance of truth. "Is what he said true?" Mariele/J'mari held back the sobs that wanted to wrack her body. She bite back on the tip of her tongue to return his calm that was as deep as any sea. She quivered in the firm hold Hasser had on her shoulder and wrist. The truth was the only thing she had left. It had been laid out succinctly before everyone. There was more, but the fingers digging subtly into her flesh wouldn't allow more to be said.

"Yes."

Aqua squeezed Bowden's arm once again. He still didn't look up. He didn't speak another word for a long time; nor did it seem he expected anyone to break the silence between those on the tired old ship's deck. His shoulders remained limp, and a hand that seemed to move with the weight of a star on it pulled through the fog of his decision and lay atop the comforting and reassuring hand on his arm. "I can't risk the Atlemarian Prion being released on my ship. Immune or not, Atlemarian children cannot be welcomed on this craft. Thank you Captain Cassian for telling me honestly and without malice or desire about the danger to my crew. I wish you luck in your search for a cure." Mariele's expression fell. She'd betrayed the trust of her captain. Of course he wouldn't defend her. Her voice failed. Words she desperately wanted to shout toward Bowden died in her chest as she saw his defeated shoulders. She betrayed her captain… Her body lost its will, legs losing the strength to hold her up. Cassian swept her into his arms. Had he been a bit more noble, and a bit less haughty, it would have been a sweet motion. As he spoke, Cassian gestured with his chin for his crew to leave the ancient Captain's ship. The air had grown so thick Cassian had briefly considered if it could actually storm in such a confined space.

"Thank you, Captain. The sacrifice you make today shall fuel the world of tomorrow." Captain Hasser swept the smaller woman's form through the connection and back toward his own ship. Within just a couple of moments, the connection was pulled away and the languishing ship was free to float in space as it was. While the larger ship slowly began to turn around. Within a few ionfel it had charted a new course and flung itself into space; leaving behind the Thomas Bowden and her somber crew.

They waited. The ship sat silent and still. Subtly, quietly, the computer system chirped away in calculations. When the ship was well out of sensor range, a flurry of activity stirred in her belly. "They're clear. All scans confirm Star Tear is out of range, left nothing behind." Kitani's voice was the first to cut through the thick silence. Below, the amorphous Engineer called up. "Engines calibrated."

"Ten… nine… eight…" Bowden's rumbling voice counted down from where his head remained bowed in somber contemplation. "Seven… six…" His head raised up, the expression determined, newly refreshed, and… excited. "Six… five… four…" Now as he counted down, he began moving around the flight deck. At the helm, Nev's six limbs dances over consoles, controlling four panels' worth of information effortlessly. While Fakeer and Kitani moved to the barracks deck with a renewed vigor, as if their tail feathers had been lit aflame. "Three… two…" Aqua was counting as well, moving with the speed and efficiency of a madwoman on a mission. The barracks were filled with heavily armed crewmates. Ready to go to war for their beloved crew member. Bowden's eyes told of the rage he had broiled down, concentrated into his gut so tightly he could feel his insides roiling against each other as if they would burst any moment. As the engines whirred into a new life, the ship rumbled with a renewed purpose. Gunner seats sat empty, but enticing. With the new information Bowden had his decision. He would be going to the ends of the universe. But before they could pick up the wayward crewmate, there were a few stops they needed to make. Engines hot, the ship took off through the Orbital field.

"One."

#Tales of The Thomas Bowden #Bowden #sci-fi original

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