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inhonoredglory · 3 years

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another character based question - how do you feel about mikasa? a lot of fans dont like her, im curious about how you feel! - armin anon

Hellooooo Armin Anon. OMG it’s been forever since I had the time to sit down and do a proper meta, and I apologize.

First off, I finished the manga!!! (So, spoilers ahead for anyone else reading this.) I had to lie down after reading 139. It’s a tremendous story and I’m still taking it all in. The set pieces and personal/emotional stakes of everything that happens is just astounding. If it’s one thing Isayama does good, it’s the gut-wrenching personal anguish that underlies the action. I’m absolutely floored. My favorite bit was probably the timey-wimey stuff in Paths and Eren. That blew my freaking mind. But onto Mikasa!!

A Cruel Yet Beautiful World

I remember way back when I started the anime that I started liking Mikasa first out of the group. I liked how sullenly silent and no-nonsense she was, and I liked her loyalty to Eren. Her emotion, especially when Eren died in Trost, was palpable and terrifyingly beautiful. Her grief was incredibly realistic––rushing off with a death wish that even she couldn’t succumb to in the end, because of the drive to fight that she got from Eren. In a world like SNK, her relentlessness breaking through her grief was incredibly moving. And her philosophy is basically the driving theme of SNK: “This is a cruel world, and yet so beautiful.”

This is the same moral message she gives Eren when he can’t find the strength in him to fight Annie––and gives him that warm, understanding, inscrutable smile that allows him to finally accept his own monsters, fight Annie, and save her and Armin. (One of my favorite panels of her from the manga, actually.) Mikasa is basically the first character we meet who embodies this contradictory morality, which grows to engulf SNK and other characters as well (Levi, Reiner, and Armin especially come to mind). Which could be why I was drawn to her at the start, since the complex moral outlook of SNK was the primary reason I fell hard for this story.

(And gosh, it’s tragic to realize that it’s teaching moments like the scene above that made Eren into the person who could influence his own child self to murder, the person who could wipe out so much of humanity, the person who could take Ymir’s challenge to free her by destroying the love of the person who cared the most about him. I’m still processing yo.)

Acker-parallels

I started really analyzing Mikasa when I had to defend her from a friend of mine who accused her of resenting Levi (for beating up Eren) and that’s why she attacked him so violently in the RTS serumbowl. Because of my research into rebutting that, a lot of my affection for Mikasa now comes in seeing the little ways in which she cares and trusts other people, including Armin, Levi, Gabi, and Jean. And her quiet sensibility that goes beyond her love and protectiveness of Eren.

With Levi in particular, I find a lot I like about her. Because you can definitely see her annoyance at him, but she also trusts him more than anyone else in the Corps outside of Armin. After Levi’s violent encounter with Historia, she was the only one who implicitly trusted Levi’s judgement, backing up Armin’s more reasoned logic. She sees beyond her own emotions and even moral feelings and realizes the world is cruel enough that sometimes people have to do dark things to help others and survive.

This is very much the same statement Levi made to the 104th when he had asked them to follow Erwin’s orders when the commander’s plans were questionable on the surface: “Do you trust him? Those dumb enough to say yes… come with me.” These two understand each other on a moral level, and they ask for their comrades’ loyalty without demanding it, because they each know that everyone’s conscience is their own.

There’s a clear parallel between Mikasa and Levi, not only because of their Ackerman heritage and sensibilities (loyal to a fault to their chosen person, impossibly strong, quiet and grim), but their frustration when they cannot protect the people they are responsible for. They both know they are the strongest around, and if they cannot fulfill on that power, a lot of people will die.

There are many moments in which Mikasa puts aside her personal feelings to do her soldierly duty, from leaving Eren to help with the evacuation of Trost to leaving Eren and Armin to fight the Colossal Titan alone in Shigonshina.

And then there’s the fact that Levi’s the one who could break past Mikasa’s headspace and distraction so that she can do the right thing. He understands her strong emotion, he respects it, but he also knows when that has to be put aside for the greater good. But he doesn’t put her down for having those emotions, either.

Strength from Eren, Humanity from Armin

Mikasa’s love and loyalty to Eren challenges her tremendously after the timeskip and her sorrow at Eren’s change is what really stands out to me about her character in the Marley arc. The absolute grief in her eyes when she tells Eren what he’s done is devastating, and it shows just how much goodness and compassion she does have.

And yet she longs to understand Eren, to trust him, to believe there can be something redeeming, and not merely jaded and tired, in what he taught her so many years ago––to fight, to win, to live.

There’s such a difference between these same words said here by Mikasa, so many years later, after so much heartbreak, to the anger and flame that were in them when she first heard them, back when she realized that this was the way of the world. That death and killing happens in the natural world everyday and that’s how you survive. That the world is both cruel and beautiful.

And yet as the years wore on, as Mikasa grew closer to others, found purpose in protecting others, sought a life with Eren… as she wandered further into the forest of life and society and relationships, she lost some of that simple injunction... to live is to fight, to fight is to win. She, like so many of the 104th and the others on this journey, found that it’s not enough to just fight and live and be satisfied. We really want it all to mean something, to have our actions be redemptive. To allow ourselves to believe that we do what we’re doing because we’re not just saving ourselves, but saving others, “saving the world” like Yelena points out (in the forest therapy session pfff). And it’s that drive for something bigger in our actions that grieves her so much with Eren, because as she wants her own actions to be fundamentally good and selfless, she wants his actions to be moral as well.

So while Eren is the person that frustrates Mikasa and motivates her to become stronger and braver than she ever was, Armin is the person who humanizes Mikasa and allows her the space to be gentle and vulnerable. She comforts Armin, confides in him, puts her faith in him, and puts her life in his hands.

She trusts Armin with Eren, and she values Armin’s intellect and compassion, qualities she doesn’t have in nearly as much quantities as he does: “There are only so many lives I can value. And… I decided who those people were six years ago. So... you shouldn’t try to ask for my pity. Because right now, I don’t have time to spare or room in my heart.”

This bit from her confrontation with Ymir and Historia was a defining moment for me with Mikasa. It’s honest and realistic in a way that few of us care to admit about ourselves, and it’s just super chilling and badass coming from her, too. It also shows how much she fights for Armin and Eren both. They are the two people she loves the most in the world, and she never gave up on saving either of them––from death or from themselves.

I’m looking back on Trost now and finding so much irony with the ending to SNK. In Trost, she was the one to give up on Eren, telling Armin that it was hopeless to try to extract Eren’s personality from his Titan form. And yet, like in the end, it’s always been between Armin and Mikasa to try to salvage Eren’s humanity. In Trost, Armin tells Mikasa to leave––to go do what she’s good at (saving lives)––and to entrust Eren to him.

It’s a huge expression of both Mikasa’s trust in Armin, and her belief in Armin’s abilities and friendship for Eren. And in the end, it’s the two of them again debating on if there’s any humanity left in Eren. The bond they share is intimate and deep. With all the military doubting Eren and scheming to take away his Titan (with even Jean and Connie unavailable to them emotionally), it’s only Armin and Mikasa against the world––the only two people who can truly consider Eren’s actions and hold off on judging him. And you can feel their love for him even as they doubt him.

And like back then, it has always been Armin who understands Eren most, the one who recognizes his own evil and Eren’s and finds a redemption in having others stop you, because you cannot stop yourself.

And that’s the thing I really take away from SNK and from Mikasa’s journey, that we all have devils inside us, and yet there is still beauty to be found, within us and in the world––from the natural wonders that Armin dreams of, to the comfort of purpose and companionship that Mikasa has in Eren. Love and wonder is what redeems us of our devils. And yet love itself is complicated, and can turn ugly in its obsession. That giving up that love is what makes the love selfless and beautiful, what absolves us of the selfishness within us. That’s what Mikasa learned. And in the end, she was able to release that love for the good of the world.

So I guess to sum up, I really love Mikasa. I can see why her dogged loyalty to Eren might annoy some fans, but I think there’s a lot more to her than simply that, and in fact, her journey and growth is heart-rending and one of the most symbolic arcs of SNK and fundamental to its entire theme. She’s a badass with a lot of emotion and depth behind her cold mask.

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drowningbydegrees · 3 years

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This started as a pwp praise kink idea. The praise stayed, but the pwp did not. Perhaps I will give it another go, but in the meantime, have 4,000 words of emotional hurt/comfort instead I guess. 😅

Read on AO3

Geralt is what Jaskier cheerfully describes as "forever years old" when he discovers that okay, maybe he is just the littlest bit affected by… actually he’s not sure what one would call this. He’s not even sure if it’s specifically what was said or just the act of being spoken to like a person in a vulnerable moment. Either way, it’s more than a little unexpected, but that’s not actually the problem. After all, everyone finds themselves unraveled by something a little unorthodox now and again, and in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t really all that weird.

No. The problem is that he learns it at exactly the same time Jaskier does, and it would be embarrassing enough if the bard were just some accidental bystander. But no, Geralt couldn’t get that lucky either. It’s very definitely in response to Jaskier and that is nothing short of mortifying. Whatever longing Geralt might privately harbor, Jaskier has never given any indication that it might be a mutual feeling, and so their companionship is very definitely not Like That.

It's a perfect storm that leads to this discovery.

The contract is a disaster in every sense of the word. Somehow, after all these years, there’s still some tiny part of him that allows for optimism, that remembers a time when he thought he could be a hero. There’s no room to be an idealist in his line of work, but the opportunity was right there. The monster was just an unfortunate curse to break. There were people who might be still alive to save. Stupidly, he let himself believe that this is the kind of contract he always hopes for, where just this once no one has to die.

But of course, that isn’t how it goes. The creature is worse for his meddling, leaving the man underneath tortured by a few seconds of horrified lucidity before the curse consumes him again. The creature dies by Geralt’s sword and as its blood drips from the blade, the witcher takes in his surroundings. It’s dark, but Geralt does not need to see to recognize a graveyard made up of all the people he failed.

Even Jaskier is subdued, largely silent on the walk back to the village. He’d had the good sense to stay out of the cave, or else maybe it was just too dark. Whatever the reason, if Geralt is granted any small mercy in this whole debacle, it’s that Jaskier is not in there among the dead, that he did not become another life the witcher couldn’t preserve.

The villagers are understandably as dismayed as Geralt is, and he makes for an easy target. He tolerates the shouting and cruel accusations. He stays Jaskier’s hand when the bard tries to come to his defense. They’re grieving people, desperate to shed the weight of their loss, and he can bear it.

The innkeeper does not turn him away at least, though Geralt suspects it has something to do with the very pointed look Jaskier is giving the man. It matters little if it means he can bathe in peace and fall into a miserable sleep and just… start over again tomorrow.

Death clings to Geralt like a film he can never quite wash from his skin, but oh how he tries. There’s an echo of blood and ichor that he just can’t shake, and by the time Jaskier comes to bring him clean clothes, he’s rubbed his forearms red.

Whatever scene he’s expecting, whatever reproach he anticipates, it never comes. He’s too strung out to put up much of a fight when Jaskier eases the washrag from his clenched fist. Jaskier gives him an uncomfortable smile that would be hilarious in some other context, waving awkwardly at Geralt’s head. “I’m just going to, ehm, your hair is sort of-”

“Covered in blood. I know,” Geralt fills in the gap in that sentence tersely. It’s not pity, not from Jaskier, but it drifts too close for comfort and the witcher doesn’t know what else to do but lash out. That’s not fair either though, and once Geralt has taken a breath he relents. “Get on with it.”

Jaskier does. Quietly even, which would seem suspicious or worrisome under normal circumstances. Geralt just happens to be too worn down to do anything but count his blessings and appreciate the silence as Jaskier works the tangles (and who knows what else) from his hair. He tries to close his eyes, but every time he does, it plays out behind his eyelids, forcing him to wrench them back open again.

“It’s not your fault. You do know that, right?” Jaskier’s voice is soft, and really, Geralt must look truly miserable for him to forgo their usual playfully scathing banter. “You did everything they asked of you and then some. There was nothing else left.”

Geralt doesn’t reply because what can he say? What could possibly wipe the memory of this colossal failure from his mind? It’s a gift of some sort that Jaskier doesn’t press Geralt to respond. He just hums a quiet tune while he painstakingly washes the mess out of the witcher’s hair.

“It wasn’t enough,” Geralt says very softly when he dredges up the will to speak. Jaskier’s thumbs rub down the nape of his neck, and he bows his head to it in silent surrender. The comfort is unearned, but he’s blank enough to crave it anyway.

“That’s not on you, Geralt. It’s like you genuinely don’t have a clue how... good you are. I mean, you’re a grumpy pain in the ass for sure, but still. You were good to the villagers even if they didn’t do a damned thing to earn it. You’re sweet to children and pets and...to me.” Jaskier suddenly seems very close, so near that when he speaks, his warm breath flits along the shell of Geralt’s ear. “I know I get on your every last nerve, and you haven’t turned me away. You might do it with a lot of scowling and insults, but you… are still very good to me.”

Geralt’s breath catches on what is definitely not a whimper, but what he’d probably classify as one if literally anyone else had made that sound. He’s been brought so low and Jaskier sounds so honest. He could have maybe gotten by without notice, but in the bath with Jaskier's hands in his hair and on his skin, there’s really no passing off the sound he makes as anything other than the desperate, needy thing it is.

“I punched you the first time we met,” Geralt points out, because he’s right on the precipice of something and urgently needs to back away from the edge. He tries glowering at Jaskier over his shoulder, but it turns out to be a grave mistake. Geralt is used to weariness and disappointment in the muted way he feels them. But this is a fragility he doesn’t know how to contend with, the brittle surface cracking when Jaskier gazes back at him like he’s anything other than a monster.

“I… probably had that coming,” Jaskier mumbles. Though Geralt has stopped looking, he can feel the shift in Jaskier’s posture suggesting that he’s sheepishly ducking his head. It’s an out of the ordinary thing, Jaskier owning his foibles, but Geralt doesn’t even get the opportunity to wrap his head around that before the bard swings a hammer at whatever defenses the witcher has left. “You’re good to me when it counts.”

Geralt doesn’t believe a word of it, but here and now he wishes quite desperately that he could. He longs to trust the warmth that slides like honey down his spine and settles at the base of it. He wants so badly to be what Jaskier names him as.

In retrospect, it’d probably be less humiliating if it were a sex thing. Jaskier has a penchant for oversharing and probably wouldn’t bat an eye. But it’s not as straightforward as that, even if the praise Jaskier wraps Geralt up in leaves him wanting. This is more, a bone deep sort of yearning that sits like a brick behind his breastbone, heavy and terribly misplaced.

The notion sneaks in that Jaskier just might see through him. He might recognize that despite the veneer of indifference Geralt puts out into the world, tonight the witcher is one stray thought away from a breakdown. He protects himself the only way he knows how, shrugging out from under where Jaskier’s hands have come to rest on his shoulders. “I don’t need help. Get out.”

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s brows furrow with concern. Frustratingly, the bard’s hand smooths over Geralt’s hair. Even more frustratingly, it’s a fight not to lean into the touch despite everything.

He snarls because it’s safer than the shaky thing in his chest, the thing that clings to the idea that there’s a version of the world where he is worthwhile. “Get. Out.”

Jaskier holds his hands up in surrender, but he doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised and that’s all the more maddening.

Jaskier gives him space, to bathe in peace and then to irritably crawl into bed. It’s only when Jaskier must think he’s fallen asleep that the bard curls up around his back, nose pressed to the nape of his neck. He hasn’t earned the comfort he’s being offered, but cannot help himself taking it anyway.

They do not speak of that night again.

*****

They do not speak of it, but Jaskier thinks about it an amount that is probably just a bit inappropriate. He recounts the punched out sound Geralt made at something so simple as a little well deserved absolution. He commits the little shudder of Geralt’s shoulders under his hands to memory. But most of all, Jaskier aches at the way Geralt had snarled about it, so convinced of his own unworthiness. This bridge isn’t Jaskier’s to cross though, so he secrets away the desire to do so and satisfies himself with whatever small kindnesses Geralt will tolerate.

But tragedy is rarely a one time occurence, even in an easy life. And Geralt’s life is anything but easy. It’s only a matter of time before everything comes down around his ears again.

It’s not even a hunt this time, not a monster but a mage. It’s just a spell gone wrong, and there was nothing Geralt could’ve done to contain it. They were too close, and Jaskier is pretty sure the only reason he even made it out in one piece was that Geralt shielded him with some sign that protected him from the worst of the blast.

Now, spotting Geralt’s still form among the rubble, it’s clear to Jaskier what his safety cost the witcher. He picks his way across the rubble as quickly as he dares, fighting to keep the fear from his voice. “Geralt?”

“Ngh.” It’s a reply, if not much of one, but it’s only Geralt when blinks blearily at him a couple of times and scowls that the terror Jaskier feels begins to settle.

He doesn’t know what to say. Jaskier is tempted to crack a joke and make light of the situation. It’s how he copes. It’s just that, they weren’t alone in this building, and judging from the quietly defeated look on Geralt’s face, the witcher is already thinking about that.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal.” Jaskier holds out a hand to Geralt, but he ignores it as he staggers to his feet. “But it’s not all hopeless. Because of you, they can’t ever harm anyone else again.”

“Shut up, Jaskier.” Geralt’s expression shutters, but Jaskier doesn’t need to be able to read the witcher’s emotions to know he’s thinking about all the people that outcome isn’t good enough for. As hyper sensitive as Geralt’s senses are, Jaskier can’t help but suspect that the rocks aren’t enough to hide what’s buried within the ruins, so he tries to steer Geralt back towards their camp. There’s nothing else they can do in this place but mourn.

“Are you okay to walk?” Jaskier doesn’t like the idea of leaving Geralt here to get help, but he also doesn’t want to inadvertently make things worse.

“I’m fine.” Geralt takes a step and then another. They’re wobbly, but he does manage to stay upright.

“You sure? A building exploded with you, you know, in it.” Jaskier is sort of sorry for pressing even before Geralt glowers at him.

“I said I’m fine.” Geralt repeats himself, and there’s no progress to be made pressing any further about it.

Jaskier knows better than to offer his support despite the fact that Geralt is limping at his side. If the witcher is not actively falling over, his attempts to help are likely to be ill received. He tries very hard to ignore it, even if it makes his heart twist up in his chest, but that all flies out the window when they finally come to a stop at camp, where the ground beneath them is dry dirt rather than grass and leaves, and there’s no missing the blood sluggishly pooling at Geralt’s feet.

“Geralt. For the love of- You’re bleeding. Sit down.” Jaskier grouses, more irritated at himself for not noticing than anything else.

To his shock, Geralt sits without complaint, though Jaskier suspects that is more out of exhaustion than any sudden desire to be cooperative. With a pained hiss, Geralt works to rid himself of his armor while Jaskier gathers supplies, so maybe he means to cooperate after all. That’s either very good or very bad.

Very bad, Jaskier decides, grimacing at the deep gash in Geralt’s side beneath where his rib cage ends. It’s not a clean cut the way a claw or a blade might be, probably a product of part of a building dropping on him.

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathes out, kneeling to try and staunch the bleeding enough to properly stitch it back up.

“I’m okay Jaskier,” Geralt insists. That he’s gritting his teeth on a low moan when Jaskier presses on his wounded flank is… not really helping his case.

“Great. You can continue to be okay while you sit there and let me stitch this up.” It comes out a little more tartly than Jaskier had meant, but Geralt doesn’t even seem to notice.

He does, however, sit still. That Geralt is quiet while Jaskier threads a needle isn’t out of the ordinary. But Jaskier looks at the witcher’s face and finds a great deal more than weariness there.

Jaskier lets it go at first, the task at hand more pressing. It’s only when he’s on his third stitch and Geralt is still staring miserably out towards the trees that he gently chastises the witcher. The expression isn’t an unfamiliar one, and Jaskier hates it every time. “Stop it.”

Geralt’s brows furrow, but he doesn’t look at Jaskier. “Stop what?”

“Insisting on taking on burdens that aren’t yours to carry.” There’s a needle in one hand and blood on both of them, so the tactile methods he’d usually use to soothe are no good. Jaskier tries words instead, already knowing they’ll be rejected. “It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was a great deal less awful than it might have been because of you.”

On the bright side, Geralt doesn’t immediately snap at him. It might have something to do with the fact that he’s actively stitching the witcher up. Geralt doesn’t even look at Jaskier, but his expression is stormy and tense. Jaskier bites his tongue for another couple of stitches before he decides this is a sort of misery he can’t leave alone. So, he tries again. “When we first met, you really didn’t like me. And I know you’re making a face. Stop it. Just because I ignored the fact that you found me aggravating doesn’t mean I didn’t recognize it.”

“I’m making a face because you said that all past tense.” There’s a note of what might be humor there, and Jaskier doesn’t even care if the joke is at his expense under the circumstances.

Jaskier huffs out a fondly exasperated breath. “That’s very rude, but I’m going to let it go this time because you’re bleeding all over my hands. My point is that you gave me - someone you actively disliked - coin you didn’t have to spare.”

Geralt is quiet for so long that Jaskier thinks he might actually be listening. He probably is even, but his reply is too close to their usual banter, like he can’t stomach the idea of having a conversation that matters. “With songs like that, it seemed like you could use all the help you could get.”

“Oh, haha. Very funny. I realize it wasn’t my best work.” He’s trying, really, and it’s hard not to deflate in the face of Geralt’s resistance. Jaskier stares down at his current task and that could be the end of it. But the last time they went down this road still haunts him, and Jaskier is determined to try again, hopefully without being run off this time around. “Okay, if you’re going to be like that. In the last village, you let a little girl hire you to check her closet for monsters.”

There’s a clear sense of suspicion in the way Geralt narrows his eyes at Jaskier, but all the witcher says is, “Why would I turn down a paying contract?”

“Geralt.” Despite everything, Jaskier is pretty certain he’s never loved anyone in his life as much as he does Geralt right now. “She paid you in rocks.”

“They had value to her.” It’s endearingly defensive, but Geralt is justifying himself rather than running Jaskier off, so the bard counts it as an improvement.

Regardless, it’s not the message Jaskier is trying to get across. “I know. But you can’t exactly get provisions or a room at an inn with a pocketful of pebbles. And then there was Goose Hollow. You snuck that woman’s payment back into her kitchen.”

The witcher’s nose crinkles in distaste. Jaskier knows why he did it, but Geralt seems to feel the need to remind him anyway. “She’d just lost her husband to that kikimore and she had a baby on the way. I could make do without. Not sure she could’ve.”

“Right. You’re absolutely right, and that’s what I’m getting at,” Jaskier says, giving up on the idea that Geralt might have at least enough sense of self worth to reach this conclusion on his own. That’s clearly not the case, so Jaskier opts to connect the dots. “These are things you acknowledge, things you act on, because you are kind.”

Annnnnnnd there it is, the point at which Geralt can’t pretend he doesn’t understand what Jaskier is trying to communicate. He growls, shifting like he means to get up. “Fuck off.”

Jaskier pinches Geralt’s hip, well below where the bruising from the wound stops. “Do. Not. I have a needle literally stuck through you. You’re a good person whether you acknowledge it or not, so stop being dramatic and trying to flounce off just because someone said something that clashes with your self loathing.”

The scowl doesn’t leave Geralt’s face, but by some miracle, he does settle. “Oh, I’m dramatic?”

Bowing his head to hide a smile, Jaskier goes back to work. He wishes he could stay made for even a moment, but there’s just nothing for it. “What with the growling and glaring and stalking needlessly off into the trees or whatever nonsense you were planning? As someone who is personally very well versed in dramatics, yes.”

There’s no scathing or witty retort so it would be easy to assume Geralt is ignoring him when Jaskier is met with silence, but the bard knows better. It’s subtle things, an evening out of Geralt’s breathing, a shift in his posture, and though the seconds drag out, stretched like taffy, he’s not surprised when the witcher says very softly. “I didn’t know you’d noticed.”

And oh, that hurts. Not for the sake of Jaskier’s own feelings, but for the fact that Geralt could share shitty tavern food and too small inn beds and miles of open road for so long and still not recognize that he matters. “Of course I noticed. I always notice you.”

“I don’t think the rocks are going to make for a very interesting song,” Geralt says, and while his tone is clearly meant to convey sarcasm, his gaze is soft and searching, and oh to hell with it all.

“For fuck’s sake. It’s not for a song. I notice because I love you, you absolute twit.” There’s that strange, wounded sound again. The one that makes Jaskier want to wind his arms around Geralt’s shoulders and draw him close. Last time, that had been the preface to Geralt shutting him out entirely, but it doesn’t happen this time. Geralt hardly seems to notice when Jaskier rises after tying off the thread. His whole body goes stiff when Jaskier succumbs to the urge to embrace him, but somehow this time Geralt doesn’t immediately pull away.

With bated breath, Jaskier waits for the awkward stiffness to become a full blown retreat, because surely Geralt does not want his feelings, but the demand to be let go of never comes. Surrender is a quieter, subtler thing than any resistance Geralt put up. It’s a gradual release of the tension holding him bow string taut in Jaskier’s arms, a furtive embrace as Geralt’s hands find their way to curl loosely in the back of Jaskier’s chemise. With a sigh Geralt’s head drops to rest against Jaskier’s shoulder.

Jaskier is prepared, he thinks, for that to be the end of it. There are no strings attached, no conditions riding the tails of his affection. That Geralt didn’t immediately turn him away, that the witcher relents enough to let Jaskier be a source of comfort is enough. Geralt sags a little bit against him and Jaskier commits the feeling to memory, idly smoothing his hand over Geralt’s hair.

It’s still there when Geralt pulls back to look at him, eyes wide with something Jaskier might describe as wonderment.

“What?” Jaskier doesn’t give himself permission to hope because that’s not what this is about, but his heart takes off anyway, hammering away in his chest.

“You weren’t afraid of me, even though the only point of reference you had was the stories.” There’s a question in the quiet words Geralt speaks. And Jaskier does know what he means. Rumors of the Butcher of Blaviken were far reaching, and Jaskier had no way of knowing the accuracy of them. So why?

“Well, you’re not nearly as scary as you think you are,” Jaskier says lightly, and then, because the question is there, but Geralt looks afraid of the answer, he adds with a sheepish smile. “Also, you were the one person not throwing food at me, so that was a point in your favor automatically.”

Geralt says nothing at first, but his mouth turns unhappily downward. Jaskier expects annoyance or anger, is used to those things, but this is more akin to grief and he doesn’t know what to do with it. In the wake of it, Jaskier is almost relieved when Geralt speaks again.

“You learned how to do this because we travel together.” Geralt gingerly pries one of Jaskier’s hands from his back, laying it delicately over his wounded side, and no. No, that last point was definitely easier to address. They should go back to things he can make jokes about.

“So what?” Jaskier says, though it comes out more like a croak. And his chest might as well be split open on the faint smile that coaxes from Geralt.

Curious. Jaskier can feel Geralt’s thumb sweep back and forth across his chemise, almost like the witcher is nervous. “You hate blood.”

He’s already said the most terrifying part, and he doesn’t know what Geralt thinks, but the witcher hasn’t left. So really, Jaskier wonders, what is there to be frightened of? “It would be very unfortunate for the both of us if something happened to you.”

“That’s not… I don’t think you’re hearing me,” Geralt mutters, mouth slanted off to the side.

It won’t do. Jaskier has no wish to be a source of frustration when he’s trying to be a comfort, so he lets himself smile and brushes Geralt’s cheek with his knuckles. “I’m sorry. Would you tell me again?”

Jaskier barely gets the words out before Geralt’s lips are brushing, feather light, against his. It’s over as abruptly as it started though Geralt lingers with his forehead pressed to Jaskier’s and his hand cradling the bard’s cheek. “I notice you, too.”

He could live in this moment, Jaskier thinks, just sat here knowing he’s not alone in the things he wants. The circle of Geralt’s arms is a lovely place to linger, so Jaskier lets himself have it even as he says, “In case you missed it, I’m done if you’re still feeling the need to go stomping off in the woods to fume.”

Geralt rarely laughs at anything, but the amused snort Jaskier gets for his trouble is close enough. Even better is the kiss that follows, slow and sweet and full of promise. “Well, someone very obnoxious and very... dear told me it was dramatic, so I thought I’d maybe stay here with you instead.”

You can find the rest of my Witcher fanworks here. <3

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt whump #emotional hurt/comfort #Guest starring Geralt's egregious lack of self-worth #mentions of blood and injury #In which life is hard and Geralt would very much benefit from a hug #conveniently Jaskier would also like to give him one #my fic

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ramblingguy54 · 3 years

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True Colors: An Emotionally Fantastic Serious Game Changer.

If we’re to look back at Reunion as Season 1′s dramatic pay off for Amphibia’s message of toxic friendships, as Anne & Sasha’s conflicting dynamic showed us, then True Colors is a colossal expansive note on this big theme of the series. True Colors makes Season 1′s finale look like a walk in the park for what angst goes down between our three main heroins in Season 2′s climatic resolution. Everything that can go wrong does go oh so painfully wrong for these three kids. Anne, to no one’s surprise, gets double crossed by Sasha leaving things between them a Hell of a lot more bitter than they were previously, as if that couldn’t already be topped when Sasha tried to kill the Plantars before. Anne has had enough of her lies and manipulation not being afraid to tell Sasha straight up how awful of a friend she’s been in general, even hitting her where it hurts most of all saying, “No, I’m done listening to you! I’m done trusting you! You’re a horrible person and I am done being FRIENDS with you!”, going so far as to get a shaken reaction out of Sasha dropping her brave face act, making this girl try to wipe away the frog family.

Right off the bat, True Colors makes it highly evident this isn’t just another story of stopping a bigger threat, but one hitting much closer to home, overall. Yes, King Andrias is certainly a dangerous villain, who makes his presence and intimidating nature known to the others by True Color’s final act, which despite this Amphibia isn’t entirely putting him at the forefront, rather focusing on a more intimate study of Anne, Sasha, and Marcy’s big emotional conflict. This finale knows exactly where to put its focus of importance on, so I love that instead of it being action packed we’re getting the spotlight shined on just how screwed up these three of a friendship have, in spite of Marcy claiming in The Dinner episode, “We’re supposed to be friends for life. We don’t split up!’ . Very ironic stuff right there, indeed.

True Colors’ most powerful strength it adds to Amphibia’s ongoing profound story about healthy friendships is the thorough deconstruction of these girls defined “ideal relationship” as people. Before Anne came to the world of Amphibia this kid was afraid to stand up for what she believed in, even knowing especially well that stealing the calamity box was morally questionable, but did it anyway. Sasha was super manipulative, abusive, and used her power to control people, like she did a lot of toward Anne in their lives. Marcy, while very smart, wasn’t the most competent physically, who soon grew into being more independent without needing to rely on Anne always having to be there for her. These three were changed immensely by the events of being thrust into this world of sentient amphibian creatures. Anne benefited morally most out out of all three in taking up the mantle of responsibility and ironing out her own issues. She’s become a much stronger person all around.

This episode asks us an important question though in nutshell with, “Have Sasha & Marcy truly changed for the better?”, since Anne has reached a point in her arc feeling genuinely content with who she’s become and the bonds that have been made with the Plantar family shown most notably with Sprig Plantar. Hence the whole purpose behind the song, It’s No Big Deal, with Anne feeling proud for who she is, yet not noticing a bigger issue right underneath her nose. That previous episode was meant to bring Anne’s happiness up only to bring it all crashing down in a devastating display of new revelations in True Colors. Every dramatic emotional beat isn’t just earned. Each significant moment is completely knocked out of the park by terrific voice acting, beautiful animation, and music composition that gave me serious emotional goosebumps. True Colors did exactly as Not What He Seems accomplished for Gravity Falls in shaking up its own respective dramatic stakes just when you thought it couldn’t get any higher for these protagonists. Shit seriously hits the fan here.

Did it ever occur to you, Anne? Sasha? That one of you knew more, than she was letting on? That ONE of you might’ve gotten you stranded in Amphibia on purpose...?

The big bombshell twist of Marcy playing a part too in getting them into this whole debacle completely flips everything upside down. Sasha pushed Anne into taking the Calamity Box, yes, but if Marcy never sent that photo because of her desire to stay with them together forever, then they wouldn’t have been stranded in basically a world full of dangerous creatures and who knows what else. Easily my favorite part of the episode, considering it adds more nuance to a situation that defined Amphibia’s story. It wasn’t just one person’s fault at the end of the day. Sasha bullied Anne into taking the box, Anne didn’t put her foot down to make a stand for something morally questionable, and Marcy took advantage of them both to benefit her own selfish desires for supposedly a “happy ending” not involving them staying apart, due to her parents moving away for a new job. All three girls played an important part on why they got landed into Amphiba. It’s why Anne’s statement to King Andrias, “The three of us may have made some mistake, but you...You’re evil and I’m gonna stop you!”, holds such a real weight to it, as this story continues to solidify how genuinely fleshed out their dynamic is.

Marcy’s super desperate plea to be understood by Anne & Sasha when Andrias revealed her getting them thrown into Amphibia purposefully was hard to watch. On one hand, I felt for Marcy because she didn’t want real life circumstances to tear apart that close connection she had to Sasha & Anne. Sure, she could’ve just kept in touch with them over the phone or chatting online, too. However, Marcy had known them since very early childhood. When you’ve been so attached to someone it can be a devastating thing, depending on just how vulnerable you are emotionally, to start drifting apart. Marcy represents that embodiment of toxic need for togetherness and couldn’t bear to let a possibility, like moving away, throw a wrench into her happiness and friendship, as well.

Never mind Marcy wanting to stay permanently in a different reality, rather than face her’s, but it made this person feel like something more. It gave her a chance to feel truly special in being able to live out a fantasy dream of having such power and freedom that a kid, like herself, couldn’t have had. The freedom to know she is plenty capable of making it out there on her own without Anne having to watch this kid like a hawk. So, to have someone, or something, try taking it away from her terrified Marcy of facing a terrible truth. That she isn’t strong enough after all to live a life without Anne & Sasha by her side completely, where Marcy will never feel truly worthy enough to blossom into her own person. It’s why that line, “I just...didn’t want to be alone...”, carries such a deep pain to it all. Marcy just crumbles into pieces accepting her greatest weakness. As much as Marcy fumbled the ball big time, it’s so easy to empathize with her on the idea of feeling competent enough. Marcy never meant to hurt Anne or Sasha, but the sad crushing punchline is she very much did.

Speaking of which, Anne had every right to be upset and mad, obviously. Anne has been missing so many things from her life before everything went off the wall. Hopping Mall especially highlighted Anne’s emotional desire to give anything just to hear her mother’s singing again. This teenager has been really dealing with a lot of grief in general quite honestly. Anne got into a high stakes battle against Sasha to save new friends, who’d practically became like an adopted family, which left the poor girl traumatized and heartbroken over the end result. She thought finding Marcy would help compensate for it and eventually be able to mend those complications with Sasha to boot. It’s simply painful to see it all blow up in Anne’s face to know not only Sasha betrayed her trust yet again, but realizing Marcy also played a part of responsibility in getting them thrown here. Matt Braly really just decided to slap future trust issues onto Anne finding out Hop Pop, Sasha, and Marcy were all super dishonest in their intentions at one point or another. Damn, I feel so bad for her.

It makes their embracing hug back in Marcy At The Gates so much harder to watch. Anne was super glad to see her again. Anne had wondered what became of Marcy or even possibly started to think she could even be alive at all. Then come to find out later on Marcy having intentionally ripped her away from a normal life must’ve felt worse then what happened with Sasha. Anne, already done with all of Sasha’s bullshit, thought she could at least expect better from Marcy not letting her down, but that too wasn’t the case. Marcy is very much as flawed as Sasha in what she has done. To think, Anne wanted so badly to get back home, yet she’s staring the very person dead in the eye, who ripped her away from it to begin with. Marcy knew Sasha would talk Anne into taking the box from that thrift shop, even if she wasn’t completely certain it would successfully teleport them away. Regardless of whatever good intentions someone can have in why they did what they did, it still doesn’t absolve them of said mistake. Fact of the matter is, Marcy tragically made her own bed, by choosing to mess with forces she couldn’t begin to comprehend and now has to face consequences, in spite of her not deserving them.

What really got to me was when Marcy tried to spin around Anne’s personal growth and close friendship with the Plantars as all entirely thanks to her. When she said, “I gave you this! I gave you everything!”, I was like, “Nope, that couldn’t be any further from the truth.”, seeing everything that has culminated in Anne’s journey of bettering herself. Marcy didn’t give Anne anything, but a one way ticket to cutting the kid off from her family, presuming she’d be fine with this idea. It’s all kinds of messed up, however what it boils down to is Marcy undermining Anne’s independence and agency. Anne’s moral judgement in decision making was what allowed her to create this new life she made for herself in Amphibia. Anne’s honesty as a whole led her down a path of togetherness, while Marcy’s lying landed her in a result of not wanting to be alone, costing her so much.

“I don’t believe this. We were so focused on each other we couldn’t see what was right in front of us!”

True Colors excels at earning each of its emotional beats because they line up with character motivations down to the last letter. Anne doesn’t want to trust Sasha anymore because of their already rocky past, which leads to her helping King Andrias regain control of his kingdom. Sasha not keeping a lid on her temper, wanting to rule over Amphibia, and trying to reinforce that power dynamic with Anne & Marcy only made things worse for her image of a changed good friend. There wasn’t a chance in Hell Anne would hear Sasha’s reasoning after she flat out tried to take away her frog family, by attempting to use the Calamity Box a bit ago in the episode. Marcy wanted to believe there was a happily ever after in seeing this world traveling idea as their only chance for salvation as friends for life, but it turned out to be something much more sinister, when learning of Andrias’ backstory and his true scumbag nature. All three of their motivations come clashing together, blinding them from a much bigger danger. Something that effectively puts everyone at stake.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale works so excellently, given it covers important dramatic elements it’s been stirring around since Season 1′s early rumblings. Amphibia is a story centered around people’s need for emotional connections. True Colors builds miraculously off what Reunion already did quite well in showing friendships can become rough and they are never easy to deal with. When you have to make a stand it can be a tough pill to swallow on the reality check of maybe this “good friend” of your’s isn’t as nice as you previously thought them to be. Anne having been hurt one too many times now by her former friend sends that message close to home, so much so even Sasha begins to question her morality as a human being. It poignantly encapsulates how this trio’s complex friendship is a serious growing issue needing to be reexamined, overall.

What if Anne’s right..? What if I am a horrible person...?

Something I absolutely love to pieces about True Colors, also a testament to Season 2′s darn good writing, is how much introspective we get from each character on what they’re feeling. We’ve seen plenty of Sasha’s vulnerability before in other episodes centered on her issues, but now we’re getting to the root of it. Sasha is really taking everything more to heart, little by little. Sasha’s understanding what kind of an effect she has on people, seeing the damage it has caused made evident by Percy and Braddock in Barrel’s Warhammer. Grime once told her, “Some dreams have a price and not everyone is willing to pay it.”, where she’s questioning that idealism every passing minute the invasion plan proceeds further into reaching success. Sasha isn’t sure what to do with herself anymore feeling aimless. Those previous episodes had a real impact on her priorities more than she cared to let on with Sasha’s typical tough girl act. This kid has let her guard down more, which scares and confuses Sasha. She’s always used to playing the role of protector it contradicts everything Sasha stands for when the roles are totally reversed because now Anne has made her feel the tremendous change in their growth as individuals.

Sasha’s lifestyle has been all about control that after somewhat learning to be more considerate to Anne & Marcy’s feelings she feels beyond conflicted about what truly matters to her. The most screwed up part of it all is Sasha didn’t want to fight anymore, taking up a pacifist approach after seeing what King Andrias had been hiding from everyone. It’s a fitting punishment for Sasha to try bringing Anne over to work together once more, but getting her pleas for companionship outright ignored. Anne was correct that Sasha had wasted all the chances to be reasonable. Boonchuy tried to hear out Sasha before at The Third Temple. One wanted to start things over again to iron out their serious issues, but the other was driven by bitterness, while only remorseful to a degree at best, of seeing their once weak friend become so independent, mature, and stronger that it drove her up wall. Sasha wanted to take away that “problem” being the Plantars, since in her eyes they’re the source of Anne’s strength, driving a wedge further between the two girls in their heated Reunion 2.0 battle.

True Colors demonstrates the horrific price of no trust, communication, nor teamwork from the three main girls that Andrias smoothly took advantage of, as if they were fiddles.

“That’s the thing about friends isn’t it? The more you love them, the more it hurts when they go.”

King Andrias is quite literally what I wanted Lunaris to be, where DuckTales’ Season 2 finale didn’t impress me on doing. He’s a serious big baddie to the main cast, who follows through on his threats of violence to demonstrate his wide array of arsenal and power. Andrias doesn’t just emotionally manipulate characters, like poor Marcy, but utterly crush them without an ounce of remorse for his actions. When he dropped Sprig out that window after Anne willingly let him have the Calamity Box back I thought they were legit gonna kill this boy off. The way Anne’s flashback montage of her good times with Sprig were eerily shot really didn’t help either on that note. Anne’s Calamity power finally activating is easily up there among stuff, like Dewey risking his life for Della’s disappearance in Last Crash, where the cinematography is shot and animated brilliantly. You feel Anne’s blind raging sadness in every hit she landed on those robots and Andrias. If anyone didn’t believe Sprig was like a little brother to Anne, then I dunno how anyone couldn’t view their bond anymore as such after this hugely defining scene. Anne went bloodthirsty when she believed Sprig to be dead further evidenced when she hugged him in relief afterwards exclaiming, “Sprig!? You’re alive!? Oh, thank goodness...”, which cuts deep so damn much.

Anne was ready to fight every one of Andrias’ troops in that castle to the death, if need be. Before Sprig came back from falling, thanks to Marcy’s quick acting, to comfort Anne, her only goal was to slaughter every opponent in that throne room, along with making Andrias pay dearly for even daring to lay a single finger on anyone of the Plantars. I’m not gonna lie, this pivotal power up reminded me so much Gohan turning Super Saiyan 2 after Cell curb stomped Android 16 into pieces with a smirk on his face. Anne Boonchuy’s maddening outburst is a classic testament to the idea of, “Piss off the nicest person and they’ll make it their mission to instill the biggest kind of fear/terror into you.”. showing this kid at her most vulnerable mental state, yet. Sprig & Anne’s cathartic embrace really messed me up in reinforcing just how these two respect, love, and would go above any of their limitations to help the other out. Sprig’s “death” scene was a masterful bait by the writers into making us think someone was gonna die and it was gonna be a poor kid, no less.

However, it was actually all just a bait and switch for the real, “Oh, shit. They really just did that”, moment with Marcy unexpectedly getting run through with Andrias’ gigantic sword. In a last ditch effort, Marcy wanted to atone for what she had a hand in getting them all into. Marcy was ironclad determined in making her own stand for what was right trying to save the people she endangered. Akin to what Sasha did in Reunion for saving Anne’s life, Marcy does the exact same here. Although, unfortunately this time, no one is here to protect Marcy from escaping death, like Grime catching Sasha from plummeting at Toad Tower. Marcy couldn’t react in time because she was so focused on helping her dear friends out. She wanted to prove to herself at least one time, “I’ve screwed up so much stuff with my friends. Maybe, just maybe. If I get my friends back home, it’ll prove I’m not an entirely crappy person for setting these events into motion.”. Marcy’s own deep seeded remorse is what saved Anne & the Plantars, while being the cause of her own untimely demise at Andrias’ hands.

This scene is what no doubt encouraged the warning sign for younger viewers Disney decided to make for them. It’s impressive how far Matt and his crew are willing to go for intense dramatic content. Andrias trying to crush Polly with his fist after destroying Frobo with casual ease, dropping Sprig out of the window from up sky high, and stabbing Marcy with his powerful sword displays his cold blooded brutality. Doesn’t matter who you are. If you get in the way of Andrias’ plans for multiverse domination, then he’ll throw anyone into their own grave, be it man, woman, or child. That’s the mark of a truly terrifying antagonist.

Andrias didn’t care who had to be hurt or manipulated to get back the box, so he could invade other worlds with Earth being his next prime target for invasion. Marcy’s fate is a horrifyingly poetic statement, since Sasha stated to Anne in a flashback from Marcy At The Gates, “One of these days, she’s gonna get herself killed.”, with True Colors tying back to this line in a disturbing manner. Something that sends chills down my spine is we get to see the full extent of how far Andrias shoved the sword through her body. We don’t just see the entry point of where it hit her, but it even zooms out to show the whole thing. Real talk, I got serious Avatar The Last Airbender vibes from this scene. Reminded me so much of Aang getting suddenly zapped with lightning by Azula when he tried to enter the Avatar state. Marcy didn’t want to be alone so badly she ended up inevitably dying alone trying to send Anne back home to their reality. One Hell of a way to close off Marcy’s last moments in Season 2, until her inevitable resurrection happens in Season 3 now that King Andrias has her in a tube tank that looks tied to his master.

True Colors ends on a deeply bittersweet cliffhanger leaving the fates of Sasha & Grime totally unknown if they’ll get away by the skin of their teeth, or get captured by Andrias’ soldiers and robots. Anne finally returned home with the Plantars, but at a deadly cost of leaving her other close friends behind in Amphibia. After all the isolation, heartbreak, and endurance she went through with her frog family Anne finds herself at a total loss for words. Once again, Anne is in a state of solitude of not knowing if her friends are really okay or not, mirroring the start of Season 1 when she landed into Amphibia’s world. It’s safe to say to say that, “Finally me and it’s no big deal.”, lyrics have aged terribly for Anne’s realization of finding her own identity came at the expense of getting separated from friends she’s known since kindergarten. Definitely see Anne becoming a lot more protective of the Plantars now more than ever after watching Marcy drop to the ground from being stabbed in front of her eyes.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale is exactly how you capitalize on a winning story telling formula of dramatic writing, lovable characters with layered depth, and increasing the stakes of your story in an organic manner. True Colors is a finale that should be talked about for a long time to come, as it not only showed how worth the wait it was, but reinforces why Amphibia is a truly great series. It’s unafraid to take its characters to dark places in a way that feels totally earned.

Amphibia Season 2 is everything a sequel to a first film should be.

#amphibia true colors #amphibia spoilers #amphibia season 2 #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #sasha waybright #sprig plantar #polly plantar #hop pop plantar

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junova · 4 years

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↬ 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

summary: the one where you meet steve rogers.

word count: 3.8K+

[author’s note]: hello my sunshines! welcome to the first installment of a short series i’ve been working on. hope you enjoy reading it as much as i loved writing it! lmk what you think <3

warnings: angst, slight dose of baby fluff (if u blink), cursing

*: ･ﾟ ✧*: ･ﾟ✧ *: ･ﾟ ✧*: ･ﾟ✧ *: ･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧

THE FIRST TIME IT HAPPENED was a slight shift in priority and truly, it wasn’t a big deal. You understood the two of them worked together, and time had run over. Later in the evening when he returned home, he apologized to you. Forgetting the two of you had plans while he with another woman, but you didn’t let it get under your skin. Above everything else, you trusted him.

Until the first time moved to the second one, than the third, until you couldn’t keep count of how many times he had ‘forgotten’ the dates the two of you had made. Still, you let it slide. This was your sweet, tender boy. You knew despite the growing tension he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. Just like the past couple of months, you chalked it up to him just being too busy.

It had to be it.

—

Maybe more than anyone else, you understood. His step-father was pushing all his unrealistic expectations of their first and only child. Continuously pushing him to be the best of the best no matter the cost. Maybe in the past, he would have blamed his parents, specifically his father for pushing him so harshly to attend Winter University.

He had become resentful towards his father after his first year. He was stressed more than he liked to admit and the pressure to please him was always at an all time high. Heading into his third semester, he wanted nothing more than to drop out. The high intensity of each course he took too much to bear along with the very high expectations everyone in his family had for him. Just waiting for him to either succeed with grace or fail with shame.

As everyday passed, essay after essay, he regretted the life which was chosen for him. He feared of sounding like a spoiled brat who was gifted the riches of the elite and acted like it was a burden. It certainly was the reason why he never complained. He knew what it meant to have nothing. It didn’t cost a thing. Now with the world at his fingertips it felt it may cost him everything.

—

Tony suggested he should join the soccer team this year, so he did. Just as he was asked.

It’s not as if joining was ever completely out of question. Steve had played it in high school, but he never thought he would be good to make the team. As it turned out, he was.

He joined the team and it turned to be a good outlet for him to escape to. When everything seemed too much to juggle, he something in his life to blow off some steam. His roommate, Bucky, even made tryouts himself.

As the weeks droned by he found a nice balance with his assignments between practices. It certainly wasn’t easy at first, but he adjusted quickly. His body soon became acquainted with waking up for practices at the crack of dawn. Was it enjoyable? Hell no, but Steve was starting to feel like he truly belonged to something. He was part of team. He was part of a unit. He didn’t even knew he craved it until he had it.

The team captain, Wilson, urged Steve to attend the house party after their first win of the season. He was more than reluctant to attend when Bucky basically all put pushed him out of the dorms. He really did want to go, but the idea of all the assignments he was neglecting while he was partying didn’t quite sit right with him.

If it didn’t sit right with him, he’s sure it wouldn’t sit well with Tony.

Before he could offer some half excuse to ditch the party, an ice cold beer was shoved into his hand. Urging him to join the celebration activities.

So he did.

He played one too many games of beer pong, indulged himself in a few more drinking games before he felt slightly buzzed. It was the only time he let himself let go and not worry about a damn thing.

Then a few women came onto him, interested in something more than just platonic company. He took it as his cue to leave. Close to midnight, his muscles tight and restricting due to the game he had played, craving nothing more than to find the comfort his bed could offer.

He let Bucky know he was leaving so he didn’t worry and started to make his way back. Making his way through the house just moments from stepping out the front door, when he heard a small cry.

There was a small bar in the room adjacent to entrance Steve was hoping to make a beeline exit for, but then he saw you sitting there. On the countertop with tears in the most captivating eyes he had ever seen. You really didn’t seem to be looking at anyone in particular. Your eyes following the bodies that passed you almost as if you were in a haze.

You still hadn’t connected the dots on how intently Steve was looking at you and he was more than appreciative. He really didn’t want to be perceived as a creep but you were alone and probably drunk. He just wanted to make sure no one would take advantage of you.

As carefully as he could, he approached you with a peace offering at hand. He picked up a red velvet cupcake with frosted icing on his way out, planning on munching on the delicious treat on his way home. He sensed maybe you would need it more than he did.

The moment he stepped forward, you were acutely aware of his presence. His broad shoulders with his muscular build did nothing to diminish the fear you held when he approached you. Not looking at you like you were something to be owned or possessed, but as a bystander just wanting to offer a helping hand.

He was so much taller than you. Even as you sat on the counter of the bar, as soon as he close to you, his soft eyes connected with yours. Maybe it helped he didn’t lure over you at the moment, he just looked at you.

Then as if it was the most mundane act in the world, he reach into his back pocket to pull out a silky, lavender handkerchief and handed it over to you.

“Thank you.” You felt over the handkerchief, smoothing it out between your fingertips. More than hesitant to due so, it felt nice. Expensive, too much for you to be drying your wasteful tears with it. He was offering and you thought it might be rude not to, and you really didn’t trust your voice to say anything more than pleasantries.

So, you wiped your tears with it and it felt heavenly. Much like the boy in front of you looked. A few minutes passed, and your cries had settled down. The presence of his body protecting you or maybe it’s just what it felt like. He still hadn’t said a word to you.

Maybe an attempt to not scare you in the other direction. Naively, you thought he might be protecting you in some way shape or form. You knew you could take care of yourself if push came to shove, but the idea that maybe there was still some human decency out there was a nice thought.

It could be possible not every man preyed on women when they were at their most vulnerable. Of course, this one was wrapped in pretty packaging, so maybe that put you at ease.

“Do you have a safe way to get home?” Oh? He finally speaks.

“I can manage just fine.” You chipped, quite shortly to him. Watching him carefully, as he took a step forward. He reached in the same pocket from before, pulling out a small index card, with a number printed on it in small red ink.

“On the small chance you can’t, ask for Happy and he can take you home. No charge, no hassle.” He then places the cupcake he had been holding in his right hand before placing it where you sat comfortably along with the card, before leaving you alone.

You watched as he walked out the door, not sparing you a second glance.

—

Maybe it was naive to let your mind drift back to the boy who had showed you kindness. Anytime another person spoke to you it was easy to assume they only wanted something from you. Searching for a reason to exploit the dean’s daughter.

Just two weeks ago when you were caught in a compromising situation you had been set up in, your mom had paid them off before the vulgar photograph spread throughout campus. The way she scolded you still fresh in mind.

The absolute disregard for your own feelings, but total care for her reputation was nothing short of surprise. Above all, her career had come first and you were just a simple pest threatening to ruin the life she had built.

Never neglecting to remind you of it.

You really wish you could just be the like her. Fiercely strong, not putting up with anybody’s shit but you were the complete opposite of her. Weak, fragile, more sensitive than you’d like to be.

She never quite missed a beat to let you know even if it’s what you wished for.

Her disappointment weighed heavily on your shoulders that night and Finnick abandoning you for the pretty blonde across the room did nothing to help your self-esteem either.

So, you sat on the vacant bar and cried. Only because you thought everyone was too engrossed with their preferred vices and the burn of vodka numbing their senses to hear you.

But a boy with silky, shining hair as golden as the sun sought you out like a moth to a flame. A large part of you waiting for crude, perverted comments to fly right out his mouth with no intention of catching them.

Then he left as soon as he came, not even leaving his name with you. Not as if you cared, you would never see him again.

Until you did, two weeks later to be exact.

Now, you were beginning to think he only came into your life when you seemed like a damsel in distress. Not only did a thunderstorm decide to show up on your supposed date night, but Finnick had decided to be a world colossal dick.

At this point it shouldn’t surprise you. He had shown you time after time it’s who he was and to think he would change was an idiots’ dream. Your dream, so to speak. This time he crossed the line, pushing you to your brink.

“Please baby. I’m sorry. It honestly was just a slip up, an oversight. Truly. It won’t happen again.” You regret even picking up his call in the first place. Now more than ever, hearing his sorry excuses wash over once again filled your venom to the brim.

“I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is, Fin. This is the forth fucking time this week alone. I’m done with your bullshit.” Your anger once again getting the best of you, but you were well within reason to be bitter about him forgetting a date the two of you had planned once again.

“Can we just talk? I’m finished and I’m free for you.” His tone was small, minuscule, almost like he actually cared he had let you get your hopes up.

“Go talk to someone who fucking cares, Finnick.” You hung up on him as he was mid-sentence, because dear god lord help you if it actually became any importance to you.

Now, it no longer mattered to you. You had given him more chances than you could count, but he always fell short. Maybe you expected more than you should from him. On the other hand, you been with him for over a year.

If you were you honest with yourself he acted the same as he did before. The only difference is the love had dissipated into dust, no longer letting you be blinded by him. His eyes didn’t glow with love but rather with an emptiness you couldn’t fill. Even if it’s all you wished for.

Now, on this shameful night, you stood outside waiting for a sign. Maybe a beacon of hope letting you know not everything was lost.

Hoping your four year relationship wasn’t tumbling down the drain.

Then you saw him, again.

Just like before you were struck by just how beautiful he is. Without a shadow of a doubt, he was the most attractive man you had ever encountered with.

His build made you recognize him instantly. The man who had given you the handkerchief to remedy the loss you felt that night. An act of kindness which hadn’t been reach out to you in so long.

Now, here you were crying in front of the handsome stranger again. Surely, he would think you were nothing more than a pathetic little girl.

This time he wasn’t alone which only seemed to triple your embarrassment. Accompanied by a man who seemed to be twice his age, more than likely his father. He hadn’t noticed you yet, thankfully. Even if he had, you doubted he would realize who you were.

He surely could have been drunk or out of his mind on the night he found you. Part of you knew he was of sane mind, but the shameful part of you wished he wasn’t so there would be nothing familiar about you.

Simply, you be a single face in a sea of many.

Fate would not be on your side today, because he approached you. Loudly enough to make his presence known but not too loud to scare you off.

Is this what it felt like to die inside?

He was even more beautiful than last time. A pure vision and by the way he carried himself, he knew it, too. Although, the mysterious blonde wasn’t arrogant but held confidence so infatuating you could help but be intrigued.

“Here.” He gestures softly, your big doe eyes meeting his own. He held the umbrella under the both of you, shielding you from the pelts of Zeus. “I can’t imagine you would want to get more drenched than you already are.”

Part of you wanted to dismiss him, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let you even if you tried. Especially from the judgement from the man who was tucked safely by the front door.

Now, that he mentioned it, you hadn’t noticed you brought yourself out onto the curb from the restaurant allowing yourself to be coated in your shame.

The rain, too.

“Thank you. Again. Seems like I only know how to make myself appear as an emotional idiot in front of you.” Now, the two of you so close to one another the concept of breathing was hard for you to grasp.

It wasn’t lost on you the death glare the man he was just with looked at you like vermin. How you could anyone ever be associated with someone who looked as pitiful as you did?

Trust me, I was asking myself the same question.

“Take the handle.” The golden boy guided the umbrella towards you, all but shoving it into your hold. You thought he was going to walk away from you again but he took the moment of his gloved fingertips freed to remove the wool coat off of his muscled back. Carefully, placing the dry material on your shoulders.

He didn’t miss the quizzical frown upon your face, maybe if you weren’t crying you might have been the most stunning women he had ever seen.

Not even the rain could hide those puffy cheeks and under eyes from him. It wasn’t important to him now, not when you were shivering half to death.

“You’re freezing. You need to warm up.” His fingertip fastened the buttons on the coat, wrapping you in what smelled like him. A musky scent so refreshing you let it consume your senses. Immediately two sleek, jet black town cars pulled up to the curb where you stood by the mysteriously chivalrous man.

“C’mon doll.” He grabbed the umbrella, holding it firm as he reached his free hand out for you ready to take.

For an unknown reason, you latched on to him. Surprising even yourself.

The older man skipped in front of you opening the door, before hopping in with the man you still didn’t even know the name of.

In hindsight, probably wasn’t the wisest decision you’ve made but there was this underlying feeling. You trusted him. He had given you no reason not to, only providing his aid and care one both occasions.

Mindlessly offering him your address, now aware of how fucked you were if he wasn’t as kind as he seemed to be. Not only were you with one unidentified man, but two.

“Are you okay? Are you still cold?” He peered down at you, his eyes piercing through you with a soft warmth. In stark comparison to the man sitting across from you, his brown hues watching you for any sudden movement.

“I’m warmer now.” He nodded, accepting your affirmation for now. Itching to say more, wondering if you were as well.

The heater inside the vehicle seemed to leave him warmer than he would normally prefer, but kept it on even if it was making his body sweat profusely. Almost worried he might be making you uncomfortable, eyes following yours just to make sure you weren’t looking as he removed the blazer only know allowing his true physique to be exposed.

But god were you fucking looking.

You knew he was jacked, but to this extent? You didn’t know it was possible to look this good.

As soon as his eyes found your own, shamelessly checking him out, he figured now would be a wonderful time to insert himself in.

“You know, sometimes it’s easier to tell strangers your problems than the people closest to you.” Lowering his voice, so the older gentleman couldn’t hear him. “I-I don’t know why you’d assume I have a problem.” You looked at him and you felt like an unopened book but he still managed to know every little thing about you.

“Just a feeling, maybe. That’s all.” He didn’t bother you again the rest of the ride home and it bugged you. He clearly wanted to say something but he bit his tongue instead. Keeping his hand in his lap, making sure he kept his distance from you.

“Smile snowflake, you’re not getting soaked anymore.” The older man finally addressed you. Focusing his fury gaze upon you, waiting to elicit a certain reaction from you.

Snowflake?

“Tony, leave her be.” He hissed at him. For a moment, you thought he was being protective. He doesn’t know you idiot, think straight for once.

“Why? You decided to bring a stray without my consent. I’m just having fun, Steve.” You didn’t miss the tension growing between the pair, ready to brawl right here in front of you.

Steve.

Why did his name sound familiar to you? Do you know him? Is that why he was being kind to you? Did he somehow know you?

“If you don’t drop this I swear to god, Stark.” Thankfully enough for Steve, Happy interrupted the two men.

“Sir, we’ve arrived at the designated location.” The car coming to a halt and you couldn’t wait to bust out of here. Desperate to dry yourself, hopefully you still had time and you wouldn’t catch a cold.

Just as you feared, it was still pouring down. Fantastic.

“Thank you for the ride, really. You didn’t have to.” Your small, angelic voice barely ascending to a volume loud enough for Steve to hear you.

His eyes getting lost in you for a moment before looking through the window, the rain morphing itself into larger specs of hail.

“Jesus, it’s still fucking pouring. Let me walk you up.” He reaches towards the umbrella he had tossed into the empty seat.

“Steven. We need to go.” Tony had lowered his voice an octave lower, demanding Steve actually listen to him just this once.

“You can wait two minutes.” Rolling his eyes at him, before he intertwined his hand with your own. “C’mon.”

Held you right against his muscled chest as he pulled you out of the car and into him. Under the umbrella, tucked safely away from getting sick even further. He moved until you were under the protection for your patio. The rain once and for all shielded away.

“I’m sorry about, Tony. He means well but he’s a bit of an asshole.” Steve smiled down, looking like he had just won the lottery. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” Just like that, Steve let out a soft laugh. Showing off his perfectly aligned pearly whites, with a subtly you wished to possess.

“Oh shit! Here.” You begin to take off the coat he lended you, but his calloused hands stopped the gesture.

“Keep it. Please?” He questioned, almost like he was unsure of the words falling out of his mouth.

“Why?” You thought it was a simple question, but he must have stood there for a couple of minutes before actually responding you.

“It really just doesn’t fit me right, would hate for it to go to waste.” He mumbled it out, almost as if he was struggling with the concept of flirting with you.

“Okay, then. I’ll keep it.” You agreed with him, gripping it closer to you. Taking in his smell once again.

“Alright, then. You should get going. Wouldn’t want to keep Tony waiting.” He nodded, stepping away from you, battling a war with himself.

Just do it, dummy. This is your chance.

When you thought he was going to walk away, he took you in his arms. No longer caring about the damage your wet hair may cause to his suit. Not that Steve really cared to begin with.

“You don’t deserve whatever he’s giving you. Just know there’s always something better at the end of the tunnel, maybe even someone else willing to offer you more.” He breathed into your ear, before kissing you sweetly on the cheek.

“I’ll see you soon, angel.”

Leaving with more than enough to think about.

—

taglist: @tonystankschild

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joonietonin · 4 years

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Ethan Ramsey's Character Development (Open Heart, Book 2)

Throughout Book 1, Ethan had made a slow but impactful progress. Come Book 2, and as MC herself says, "We've got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey" this statement holds true, not only referring to his droolworthy beard and his new jacket but also to his growth in character. So.. yeah, this is me analysing the changes in his character, which, if I may say so, has so much depth and progression to it. [My MC is female, pronouns: she/her]

• He literally went to another continent for two whole months to get over MC. He is truly, madly and deeply in love with her. I will not take no for an answer.

• He is trying not to call her 'Rookie' anymore. Well, I personally want him to call MC as a Rookie because I think we all find it very endearing but ever since MC told him how she's not a Rookie anymore, it's kind of really sweet that he's trying to call her by her first name.

• He is still trying to spend time with her. Although he claims that they cannot be romantically involved anymore, he is desperately trying for some one on one time with her. He's really really not over her huh? Even after being gone to the literal Amazon for two months, he still is very much in love with her. So much so, even when MC kisses him in Chapter 1, he doesn't pull away. He leans into her touch, her kiss. And when MC says he can tell her if he doesn't want to kiss her anymore.. it pains him to admit the truth that, "It has nothing to do with want. I can't. And if I give a damn about you, I won't." The statement is such a bittersweet confession of how much he cares about MC. He proclaims that he does want her and he needs her but he cannot be with her, rather will not be with her to push her to become the best doctor she can be. Also later in Chapter 2, during the gym scene if MC chooses to stretch with Ethan he's very open to offer her help to stretch knowing very well that they'll be in close proximity with each other.

• He reassures MC about her actions. Throughout Book 1, MC has made quite some controversial decisions and if there was one person who has always supported her decisions no matter how crazy they were, it was Ethan Ramsey. Similarly, in Book 2 Ethan reassures her that when she defended the girl from Dr. Thorne's unwelcome advances, it was the right thing to do. Even if your MC chooses to say it wasn't the right thing, he reassures by saying that it should be. He supports her,"What you did just now was brave. You've always been brave in the face of disaster and death, of course.. But it's different when you're facing down a superior. To stand up to them for what's right." So yeah, we stan a supportive husband.

• He admits his flaws and let's his guard down in front of MC. If you know Ethan Ramsey, you know he has the tallest concrete walls built around him letting no one, I repeat no one, see him at his vulnerability. Except for MC, of course. Slowly but surely MC broke down some parts of those walls and he didn't seem to mind it. If this were someone else he would have never let them even take one brick out of his tall walls. With MC, it was different. In Book 2, Ethan admits his flaw. He let's his guard down when MC praises him for being so brave to travel across the Amazon fighting a deadly epidemic. He let's her know the real reason why he went away,"That wasn't bravery.. I.. needed space.. I needed to reset before.." and almost immediately MC knew what was up. So yeah, it's really nice that we get to see the vulnerable and soft side of the usually tough, strong and brave Ethan Jonah Ramsey.

• He knows MC like the back of his hand. He knows when something's wrong. He can sense if MC is tensed or worried or just sad. He has always been very heedful of MC's feelings like the time (in Book 1) he took her out to the opera when she was feeling miserable. Similarly in Book 2, when MC feels overwhelmed by the quick working in the diagnostics team, Ethan takes one look at her face and knows what's up. He let's her know about all the work she has to do as a second year resident but his authoritative tone changes into a more comforting one when he asks her, "Is everything all right, MC?"

• He still provides her with advice that she needs and fulfills his role as a mentor without shutting her out completely. Given the complexity of their relationship and Ethan's fear that they could cross the line, it wouldn't be surprising if he shut her out completely but that's not the case in Book 2. He's very mindful of her needs, especially as his mentee. He gives her the advice that she needs and eases her worries. And he even asks her about how she felt about the diagnostics team and they get a few laughs out of it. He's tender when she puts her hand over his. He stares at her hand, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb letting her know how much he wants her but he can't.. so when MC gives him reassurance, he tells her, "We'll be okay. We'll make it work." That sentence itself is almost foreshadowing their future where they *maybe* will find a way to be together as well as work efficiently.

• He is kind and gentle these days. If we all know Ethan Ramsey, we know that he does not waste an opportunity to retort MC, be it describing her as 'a colossal pain in the ass' or that time he tells her how 'amazing it was that she didn't kill the patient' referring to her amateur skills. But now? He doesn't retort when it comes to her. He's kind, gentle and understanding. Therefore, when MC tells him that she feels like a clueless intern all over again, he tells her calmly, "Because you are clueless, comparatively speaking." MC thinks he's making fun of her but Ethan quickly corrects her saying, "It wasn't an insult." So yeah, Ethan Ramsey is a softie. Next!

• MC's wish is his command. Ethan does not really need approval from anybody to do something. He's never the one who has needed validation yet when it comes to MC, he needs, and I mean needs, to know what she thinks about his new look. Be it his jacket. Or his beard. Depending on your choices, if your MC chooses to let Ethan know that she misses his famous jawline, he drops in next morning with a shaved face. Similarly when MC keeps staring at Ethan and he asks her what's wrong and if your MC lets him know how she can't see his eyes with his glasses on. He immediately takes them off proclaiming, "If you insist... There. Happy now?" As I had said in a previous post, had this been any other person he would not have bothered to ask their opinion on his new look let alone change his look for them. Bottom-line is: HE IS WHIPPED.

• He doesn't shy away from praising MC. It is rare to get a compliment out of Ethan Ramsey so it's really sweet that Ethan has been so vocal about how great a doctor MC is. He does not shy away from telling others how proud he is of his wife MC. Be it to her own intern when he tells her, "Well, Dr. Ortega.. Dr. MC is one of our best. Consider yourself lucky." Or the instance where MC correctly diagnoses the Governor's son and the Governor states how lucky the hospital is to have a doctor like MC. Ethan is quick to reaffirm her beliefs by saying, "We certainly are." Also, during the dinner scene, the Governor says how Ethan had mentioned MC as the "bright future of Edenbrook" I mean, this man is a whole damn supportive husband material.

• He considers how helpful MC is when it comes to social situations. It goes back to that scene in Book 1 where Ethan asks for MC's help during his meeting with officials at the baseball game. MC had proved how resourceful and well-spoken she can be in an important social situation. Ethan certainly remembers that.. therefore when the Governor insists she come to dinner with Dr. Banerji, Dr. Emery and Dr. Ramsey, Ethan lets her know, "I could really use your help with the Governor. You know I'm no good at this political stuff." In the past year they've come close enough to know each other's strengths and vulnerabilities hence it's really cute that Ethan chooses to ask for her help rather than pretending to be good at something he's not.

• He does really love her very very much. While MC impresses the Governor with her thoughts on how important the community is for a town like Boston to grow and prosper. His knee touches MC's as a sign of approval and pride over what she had just said even though he made it seem like an innocent mistake. It is also very thoughtful and cute that he dropped Harper first and then turned his car back to drop MC even though MC's apartment came first in the route. He really wanted to spend some alone time with her. Hence after a few jokes about how she should have skipped the fifth course and how the rich live a disgustingly lavish life... He also assures her about whether or not they convinced the Governor by saying, "Thanks to you, yes. I think we did." Therefore when MC chooses to scoot closer and rest her head in the warmth and comfort of his shoulder, Ethan can't help but smile his heart out wanting that peace and privacy to never end. Also when MC jokingly suggests how Ethan would not come up for a nightcap at her apartment he just smiles ruefully and says goodnight. So.. all I'm trying to prove is that Ethan Jonah Ramsey is whipped. Period.

• He doesn't hide his problems from her anymore. Remember the time Ethan told MC about Dr. Banerji only because our curious MC found Dr. Banerji in the empty wing? Yeah, so that's changed. Ethan knows that he can trust MC with his life. Therefore when MC senses something is wrong with Ethan as he looks outside the window solemnly, he does not try to hide what's happening from her. He knows that he can confide in her and let her knowing how Edenbrook was in trouble. It's like he knows he doesn't have to fight his battles alone anymore and that MC would be there for him every step of the way.

So yeah, that was it. Feel free to add more points you might have noticed in Ethan's behaviour. I've been wanting to write this for a long time but didn't really have to courage to continue on given how longgggg this post would be but here it is! Thank you if you have read it till here, I'm grateful. Also I'm very hyped about today's chapter and also a bit mad at our dumb MC now that we know she has done something really really stupid to enrage the entire hospital! But that's something we'll have to deal with later! For now let's just bask in the joy of knowing how whipped and in love Ethan Ramsey is. (≧▽≦)

#open heart #playchoices #choices: open heart #open heart 2 #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

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floribus-reginae · 3 years

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.•*¨*•♫♪♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸❤Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ “If you personify love even in times of torment, of calamity or conflict, then you’re truly one of the mighty. I see how no matter the burdens laid upon you, that you show more allure than many do in times of plenty. It’s in those moments of battle and concern I see right to your soul and know that my faith in you, my love for you, is indestructible. You’re audacious, compassionate, gentle in your own way. I want you to know that I’ll be the same for you. I’ll be your mirror, bring you what you give me- true love, the lasting kind.” - Rin’s diary

A fragile contour was moving in the somberness, looking for one of her beloved spots in the middle of the woods. The same forest where she had first seen him, the forest that beheld and sanctified so many occasions between them. A love story that unfolded over time, gradually and with unconditional indulgence. Something that everyone assumed illogical, improbable, a demon like him to surrender to the enchantments of a dainty human, who has always been honorable and committed. Years passed, the flower bloomed, the loyalty prevailed unchanged but the affection grew, undergoing a colossal metamorphosis and becoming love, an affection capable of moving mountains, intellects, changing the perpetual. Rin was regarded by everyone as the princess who changed Sesshoumaru & his hostile perspective on humankind, on human ephemerality. Something so delicate, inelastic can have the endowment to battle for love and values.

They do what they must for now and trust in their plan

If I trust in mine, somehow I might find who I am….

The profound lake’s hue became the lyrical song of the petite light that played upon its wind-dancing ruffles, merged with the tender fireflies. Lady Rin knelt on the grass dimly brightened by luminescence. She elegantly inclined to appreciate the reflection granted by the liquid mirror. A crystalline portrait of a woman who savored a plethora of adventures & mellowed preserving the same gentleness, the same angelic smile, leniency for everybody. Someone who still didn’t see the people’s ominous side, the corruption that sometimes dominated the hearts of those who pursued power. “I wonder if I’m worthy enough.” Thought. Worthy of his affection, of being called his spouse. They were from completely parallel environments, & many demons found it arduous to accept that Rin was now the ruler or future leader of one of the more expansive territories. Some had been easily enthralled by her benevolence & optimism, but others hadn’t. Some prevailed stuck with conservative roots & still saw mortals as futile and vulnerable beings. Despite all the irrefutable assurances, occasionally the brunette was afflicted by reluctance.

“Iie, now is not the time for such considerations.” Murmured, shaking her head to ward off such undesired images. There were more compelling things to think about. The pre-eminence of her thoughts should change. Gaze turned from the basin to her parturient abdomen, where one of her silky palms was resting. “We have to protect them, whatever appears.” Declared, addressing her words to the man behind her. “It doesn’t matter how, but their protection at this point is the most important. I’ll never forgive myself if something grave befalls. --- I don’t care if I have to renounce myself for them, nothing is more important than them and you. ” Conviction manifested in the words enunciated with some melancholy. Rin was prepared to do anything to keep her babies alive, even if it meant destroying her own life. All she wanted was for them to have the opportunity to meet their father, of whom she was extremely proud. “I have faith in you, Sesshoumaru-sama. I trust you my life, their lives, my love.---- I trust you with all my heart. I know that you’ll do the right thing.” A clawed palm laid upon her frail shoulder. An unusual gesture, but not for her. She knew a side of him that no one else knew. A placid encouragement that was worth gold & that made her peaceful, confident in her convictions, confident in who she was & whom she had become. He was the most fearless man she had ever met & she was the most valiant woman he had ever met. Someone altruistic, a peasant who had become a princess and who had embraced a realm that wasn’t hers. Fruit of such love were the two half-demons that were evolving in her uterus & whom one day would know who the progenitors were. She didn’t know if they were going to be proud of her or not, but Rin was going to do everything, accept the harshest, the most agonizing way to protect her offspring. “I hope they’ll one day learn about your story, my story, our tale.” Her hues were viewing the reflection again, smiling at the majestic personage standing beside her. Near him, time stopped, the fear disappeared completely, vulnerabilities became a strength.

“Don’t worry. I’ll do the right thing.”

My world has changed, and so have I

I’ve learned to choose and even learned to say good-bye

The path ahead, so hard to see

It winds and bends, but where it ends depends on only me

In my heart I don’t feel part of so much I’ve known

Now it seems it’s time to start a new life on my own

But where do I go from here?

So many voices ringing in my ear

Which is the voice I was meant to hear?

How will I know, where do I go from here?

Song: Where Do I Go From Here - "Pocahontas II: Journey To a New World"

#drabble #inuyasha #sessrin #I AM CRYING WITH THIS DRABBLE I MADE #yashahime

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itscalledbisexualcrisis · 3 years

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Scrap Metal - Chapter 6

Summary: Hiro broke off her engagement to Kuvira three years ago and left Zaofu. All she wants is to live her quiet life in Republic City, away from her haunting past. Kuvira's catching up to her, but is she going to find what she's looking for? Or is she only going to reveal the secrets Hiro kept hidden from her all these years?

Read on AO3

“We have been informed that there are dissenters in the western city of Omashu. They are requesting assistance to take down the rebels,” relays the scout. Kuvira is leaning on the table, flipping through the detailed report in front of her. Omashu had been one of the later acquired cities. She found them to be quite irritating to negotiate with and spent many months going back and forth with the old king about their treaty. It was easy to assume that rebel groups would pop up within it.

“We can send Commander Guan, he’s the closest in proximity and has the troops to take care of any dissenters,” Baatar suggests. “It’s about time we reel in Omashu, once and for all. Who better than our Southern Commander?”

Kuvira continues reading the report, letting the rest of her inner circle pipe up with suggestions and requests. Even though it does make sense for Commander Guan to go, due to the location of Omashu, it was hard keeping a stronghold of the mountainous city. They needed a consistent leader for the mountainous region in general. Especially since their plan to take Republic City was fast approaching, Kuvira needed to be at headquarters focusing on the Spirit Canon and Colossal. Her eyes scan across the table, eyeing her inner circle carefully.

She limited the amount of people allowed in her highest ranks. Various men and women of the sergeant and commanding rank sat around the circular table, all capable and willing to fight for their country. She needed someone unrelenting and dominant to maintain balance in the mountains. Most of all someone who she trusted, and the list was few and far between.

“Well, from previous reports, Commander Guan is already struggling to hold together the South East and coastal regions. Do you think it’d be wise for him to take on a new battle when he’s in the middle of one?” Kuvira turns her attention to a voice with sharpness that cuts through the room’s ardent dialogue. Sergeant Anjij was one of Kuvira’s oldest friends from Zaofu who joined her when she first began uniting the nation. She was a talented water bender, a rarity for the Metal Clan, but nonetheless accepted for her talent. She was an expert in combat and one of the front line soldiers during the first siege on Ba Sing Se. Her thick dark hair was held back in a high ponytail and eyes a dark sea foam color. She was known for being a serious no-nonsense woman by her colleagues, a quality Kuvira admired. “We cannot possibly let him leave the Southern coast unguarded.”

“I agree,” Kuvira speaks up finally. Any conversation left was shut down immediately. She turns her head slightly to face the woman. “Commander Guan is occupied with the coastal regions. We need to maintain order within the entire empire. Which is why it is important we have trusted leaders to ensure that the empire is united. Sergeant Anjij, how would you like to be the new Commander for the Southern Mountainous region?” It was an on the spot decision by Kuvira, but seeing Anjij’s cocky smirk only reassured her of her choice.

“It would be an honor, Kuvira.”

“It’s settled then. We will head to Omashu tomorrow afternoon,” Kuvira instructs, standing from her seat to regard the rest of the room. She turns to Baatar sitting directly to her left. “Send word to Commander Guan to send a small battalion to meet us there. We will be taking a few rations with us for Omashu. Bringing in supplies will be better for negotiations and to reassure the people that we are not their enemy. Baatar, I want you to keep working on the Spirit Canon. I expect you to have it done by the time I come back.”

“Yes, Kuvira.”

“With that, this meeting is adjourned.”

---

“Oh thank Spirits!” Hiro threw her arms around Kuvira, not even getting a chance for the woman to take off her helmet. She inhaled the scent of metal and filth, taking in her lover for the first time in what felt like the longest week of her life. All week she’d been sitting near the control center, awaiting news on a mission from Suyin and the Metal Clan Guards to rescue the Air Nomads. This wasn’t something that happened often, but the few times Suyin took the special task force outside the domes was always a big mission. Especially ones that involve the Avatar. Kuvira usually went on these missions and even though Hiro should be used to it, she wasn’t. It didn’t make her feel any more reassured that they would be facing the Red Lotus again. She still gets shivers thinking about their attempt to kidnap Avatar Korra in Zaofu.

Kuvira smiled and stroked Hiro’s back, hands gripping on to the material of the shirt. She exhaled and made sure to squeeze Hiro a little tighter. The smell of clean laundry and lavender shampoo filled her senses and she could rest easy now, taking in the heavenly scent of her fiance.

“I’ve missed you too, darling,” Kuvira muttered with her face buried into Hiro’s hair. She could tell that Kuvira was exhausted. They had just stepped off the airship, most of the other guards visibly wounded. She spotted Anjij limping out of the ship with a fellow guard towards the infirmary. Hiro cupped Kuvira’s face and started to examine it for any noticeable damages. It made Kuvira chuckle at the silly face her fiance was making. “Are you broken? I don’t want to send this one back for a refund because of brain damage.”

Kuvira swats Hiro’s hands away, but it only seems to make Hiro even more clingy, draping her arms comfortably around her neck. The reassurance she got back were calloused hands caressing circles on to her hips.

“I’m fine, no brain damage,” she teased. Humor danced behind the irritation in her eyes. After hours of being stranded in the mountains, all Kuvira wanted was a bath and a long sleep with her lover.

“What happened out there?” Hiro’s eyes glaze across the rest of the injured team. “Everyone looks shaken.”

“The Red Lotus were difficult opponents, but the mission was a success: Avatar Korra and the Air Nomads are safe, and the Red Lotus has been apprehended,” Kuvira reported.

“No bruises or new scars for you?” Hiro asked. She wanted to try to keep the air light between them, but her concern showed through brightly. It made Kuvira feel proud, in a way. It was the way Hiro was so openly worried about her that made her want to tuck woman away in her arms, away from all of the dangers in the world. When she was in the mountains with no real indication of when Suyin would return for them, Hiro didn’t leave her thoughts. There was no doubt in Kuvira’s mind that Suyin would come back, but the slight possibility of losing to the Red Lotus also came up. She vowed that she would make it out and return to Hiro just as she promised. Even when she saw the flying bison coming over the tops of the snow capped mountains, she still wasn’t satisfied until she saw the Zaofu domes come up from the horizon. It was only when she had Hiro back in her arms, did Kuvira feel that her mission had been complete.

“A couple of bruises, sore muscles,” she said offhandedly. “My shoulder in particular. I had to catch and heave a grown man from falling off the side of a cliff, but it’s nothing compared to the injuries everyone else sustained.” The thought of Kuvira carrying the weight of a man twice her size made Hiro blush and her jaw drop. Sometimes she forgot how strong Kuvira was and how intense those gentle green eyes could be.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Hiro wanted to laugh, but could only muster a smile. This week had been very difficult and upon seeing everyone else’s current roughed up state, she didn’t let her guard down when Kuvira said she wasn’t injured. She definitely will be looking into that shoulder later.

Hiro held her face, this time gentler. Kuvira let a quiet moan escape her lips as she let her head be cradled. Hiro thought the tired pout on her lips and scrunch of skin between her eyebrows made Kuvira look unusually vulnerable. It must’ve taken a lot out of her for her to be sharing such a tender look with her in such a public area. It wasn’t easy for Kuvira to communicate her emotions, and Hiro never pushed her to do more than what she was comfortable with. At most, Hiro could get a short squeeze of her hand letting her know that she was okay or a hug that meant she just needed something to ground her. But it seemed that at the end of the day, her strong Captain was still a human who craved affection. And she was so honored to have the privilege to take care of such a powerful and beautiful woman.

She left a careful kiss on her lips before pulling her to go home, promising to draw a hot bath and warm spicy curry for dinner.

---

Hiro tapped the pencil on the table as she looked over her notes again. Zhu Li gently set the cup next to her.

The two of them had been pretty silent this morning, going about an easy routine with an ease they’ve created. Hiro spreads out the notes on the table to be examined. Truly she was getting down to having nothing left to share. She had drawn up an updated map of the city. Due to the renovations, some streets were shut off and new buildings erected in previous vacant lots. Most of it was resource centers for impoverished citizens amongst other government buildings. There was a network of phone wires that had been cleaned up to maximize contact for the police force radio communications. A more linear pipeline system replaced old lines that appeared to not have been changed since their existence. It was all in actuality mostly maintenance stuff, and if any of it could be of use to the Empire, she had no idea what for.

“You ever thought about working in urban development Zhu Li?” Hiro asked offhandedly. She was seated at the table with her feet kicked up on the metal surface and leaning on the back two legs of her chair. Zhu Li set down the teapot and quietly examined the new documents handed to her.

“No ma'am.”

Zhu Li was a quiet woman. She limited most of what she said to short questions and nods. Hiro didn’t mind her, but she noticed with the addition of Zhu Li that Kuvira wasn’t coming around anymore. It definitely made things harder for her because how could she take down the Great Uniter if she can’t even see her. As much as Hiro wanted to ask Zhu Li, she kept the small woman at arms length. It was too soon to let down her guard and start asking her questions about Kuvira. She needed to feel out the situation before making her next move.

Hiro realized soon after Zhu Li’s appearance as her ‘assistant’, that the air changed around the maglev. The guards watching over her were more lax, probably because they realized the Great Uniter wouldn’t be paying them as frequent visits. Occasionally Zhu Li would leave and deliver the completed workbooks to an unknown receiver.

This was disadvantageous. She needed to get Kuvira’s attention. She was running out of time before they deemed her as unusable and sent her off to a reeducation camp. I mean, she used to know what would get Kuvira’s attention back at Zaofu. The thought was quickly erased from Hiro’s mind and she let out a small cough. Zhu Li glanced up briefly in suspicion.

Honestly, the thought did cross her mind to potentially seduce the Great Uniter, but even she had to laugh at that idea. She hadn’t forgotten about the interaction she witnessed between Baatar and Kuvira the other night, but ever since then she hasn’t seen either of them. This isn’t working. She needed to think of something else. Hiro gnawed on the inside of her cheek, looking at the map of Republic City in front of her. I won’t run away again. But I can’t do this alone-

“This is quite the setup you have here.” Hiro turned her head to see a familiar dark haired woman coming down the steps. “It’s been a long time, stranger.”

“Anjij? I didn’t realize you were here.” Before all of the nonsense with the Earth Empire and Kuvira taking control, Anjij had been one of the few people Kuvira considered a friend. It wasn’t atypical for Hiro to find them engaged in a thoughtful conversation while waiting at the transport station or grabbing a casual lunch on their break together. When Hiro was stationed in Ba Sing Se, Anjij was occupied on the front lines and Hiro only saw her in quick glimpses and at meetings. Now it was clear that Anjij was doing very well for herself. Even after years apart, Hiro still remembered the higher pitch and smooth melody in the way she spoke.

Anjij definitely broke enough hearts in her life and will definitely break more. There was an intimidating aura to this woman and it certainly attracted people. This harsh demeanor was accentuated greatly with her crisp Earth Empire uniform and sly smile.

“Well not for much longer. Kuvira and I are headed to Omashu tomorrow,” Anjij explained. She looked around at all of the scattered maps and diagrams. “Looks like the same old Hiro. Tell me, are you still a pro Pai Sho player?” Hiro smiled slightly. Although it was comforting having someone so friendly and familiar, she still felt out of place. Afterall, the armbands indicated on Anjij’s armband had moved up to be a Commander now.

“I’m a little rusty,” she admitted. Zhu Li was silently setting up an additional teacup, but Hiro couldn’t help but feel that the other set of ears was taking in this interaction carefully.

Honestly Zhu Li was very hard to read. When she first started coming a few days ago, Hiro was very cautious. They talked minimally, only when Hiro showed her what she had written down or drawn up. If Zhu Li asked a question or implored Hiro to explain further, it felt like a business transaction. She gave no indication of her personal opinions or thoughts about what Hiro was sharing to aide in Kuvira’s empire. As someone quite reserved herself, Hiro knew better than to underestimate her. “You said you were headed to Omashu?”

“Correct. Have to whip those mountaineers into shape, you know?” Anjij chuckled at her own light heartedness and Hiro tried to match it. “Your name came up in today’s meeting. I wanted to see for myself, Hiro Zhao, returned in the flesh.”

Hiro tried to keep the surprise from her face.

“Well, in case you don’t know, this isn’t a willing return.” Anjij raised an eyebrow. “From the looks of it, you’re anything but a prisoner right now.” Anjij glanced over at Zhu Li placing the delicate teacup on Hiro’s desk. “But, regardless of the reason, I’m glad I got to see you.”

Hiro’s face faltered. Hiro wanted to reciprocate Anjij’s honest admission, but she couldn’t let their current standings overcome that. In the end, Anjij was a Commander for her enemy that kept her prisoner. And the reality was also that they were no longer young women in Zaofu inviting one another over for dinner or sparring together.

“You too, Anjij.” Anjij’s gaze shifted as she carefully took in Hiro’s tense expression. She lifted a hand to gently rest it on her shoulder, and Hiro had to resist wincing. She had been touch starved this past week, mainly keeping to herself and shying away from guards when they escort her to her room. She would be lying to herself if the little human contact didn’t comfort her. If Anjij noticed any of this, she didn’t show it.

“Let me know if you need anything. I’m your friend, Hiro, prisoner or not, and I mean that.”

Hiro wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe Anjij when she shot her a determined look of comfort. She wanted to trust Zhu Li as a possible ally to her mission. She wanted to believe that she had someone on this damned maglev to help her. But no matter what Anjij said, she had no one.

---

Most nights Kuvira ate alone. She always opted to eat alone in her office so she can work simultaneously. It was efficient and productive on her part. Sometimes Baatar would join her, but with his dedication to the Spirit Canon, he would be in the lab all night. So when she heard a knock on the door she was surprised.

“Kuvira, mind some company?” Anjij asked through the door. Kuvira called for her to enter. Anjij walked in confidently and shut the door behind her. “I don’t mean to intrude, but there are a few more things I want to go over before we leave tomorrow.”

Kuvira nodded, putting down her current work and giving Anjij her full attention. The taller woman took a seat at the chair facing her desk.

“The dissenters seem to come from civilians, mostly destroying incoming Earth Empire rations and supply lines,” Anjij reported. “We should be safe passing through on our own as no one will be expecting our arrival. We have suspicions as to the exact perpetrators, but if you ask me, I think the previous king and his council are calling the shots.”

“As far as we know, they’ve been complicit in their surrender of Omashu,” Kuvira answered back. “But you’re correct, they’ve given us the most resistance since their acquisition. We must approach this with discipline. No one is above my mercy. Not even a former king and his court.”

They continued like this, exchanging knowledge and strategies to finding the dissenters to crush their uprising. It was easy to get people to do what you want, it was harder to keep them in line once you had them. If anyone were capable enough to be her commander, Anjij had shown her worth.

As they wrapped up their conversation, Anjij shifted as if weighing her next statement.

“Before I leave, I wanted to mention...I saw Hiro today. She seems off .”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing obvious! I know from today’s meeting she was regarded as a recaptured Earth Kingdom citizen seeking redemption, but don’t you think that’s a bit brash?” Anjij asked. She quickly followed up upon seeing Kuvira’s gaze harden. “With all due respect of course! I am not trying to question your course of action, but have you thought of a smoother way to transition her to the Empire?”

Kuvira eyed her commander carefully.

“Continue,” she demanded. She saw Anjij’s shoulders relax as she patiently waited.

“Well I was thinking, if you made her a corporal and gave her more leniency, she might be more willing to be of service to the Empire.”

Kuvira scoffed. “I didn’t take you to being so keen to Hiro before? What, an afternoon rekindling old memories made you soft?”

Anjij didn’t react.

“She doesn’t have to know that she’s still being closely watched,” Anjij calculated. A growing smirk danced on her lips. It was one Kuvira was familiar with. It brought her back to days in the Metal Clan. It mirrored the look of success and satisfaction every time Anjij would get the upper hand in sparring matches. Their subtle rivalry was what drove them to excel in their field. As time went, Kuvira turned out to be the stronger opponent, but she never forgot that when she saw that smirk appear, there was a deceptive move coming next. “The false comfort to do what she’s good at, will make her let down her guard. Meanwhile, we keep a close eye on her, make sure she doesn’t slip up. And when she inevitably does, we let her think she has the control-”

“When in reality, she’ll play right into our cards,” Kuvira finished. Her calculating gaze never wavered from Anjij. Her blue eyes were piercing with deceit and Kuvira could see how she was enjoying the idea of this. “What do you mean we?”

She shrugged.

“A first step could be bringing her with us to Omashu. Keep a close eye on her and away from the rest of the troops. The more you let her open up to you and see the work of the Earth Empire helping people, the more she’ll be inclined to help us,” Anjij said simply as if it was the easiest thing in the world. She leaned back comfortably in the chair across from Kuvira. “C’mon Ku, this is Hiro we’re talking about. She’s practically a genius with her technology and can learn any new skill like it’s nothing, but what she doesn’t have is a backbone or awareness.”

Kuvira clenched her fists on the table.

“Fine. You’ve made your points. She will be joining us on our mission to Omashu,” Kuvira concluded. Anjij nodded with the cocky smirk still on her face and got up to leave. “But Commander, I do need you to keep your guard up. Like you say, she’s a genius. We cannot let ourselves be underestimated by her.”

Kuvira didn’t like how her words came out like she was defending Hiro rather than warning Anjij.

“Of course, Kuvira.” The words were empty and it was clear Anjij didn’t see Hiro as a threat. She left Kuvira to eat her now cold meal.

“Commander,” Kuvira piped up, stopping Anjij as the door was halfway shut. “This was your idea. So if anything is to go wrong, I am holding you accountable.” Anjij studied Kuvira carefully once over before nodding once and leaving Kuvira with her thoughts.

The thought of manipulating Hiro into the guise of comfort had crossed Kuvira’s mind. And Anjij was right, Hiro isn’t aware enough of her surroundings to judge twice. But something in her gut told her it wasn’t a good idea to play this game. If she were to do this, Hiro would be moved up the ranks and would be working a lot closer with Kuvira, something she just told Baatar she would be doing the opposite of.

The more she thought about it though, she didn’t mind having Hiro around her. As annoying as she was, she was useful. And that’s what mattered. She was useful.

---

“Have you been to Omashu before?” Anjij asked.

“Never,” Hiro answered. She stole a glance from the Pai Sho game in front of her to look out the window of the maglev. A thick fog coated the outside as they traveled to a higher altitude and through the mountain range. She was never a fan of heights, but what made her more uncomfortable was sitting at the meeting table with Anjij across from her and Kuvira to her left, examining documents. Kuvira had been studying them as soon as she stepped in the room, not even acknowledging Hiro’s presence or the fact that they were playing a Pai Sho game in what was supposed to be the meeting room. Anjij called her in for a friendly game and a debrief of their current mission.

“We’re providing extra aid to the people of Omashu. Due to their location, it’s hard to get supplies out there so we try to deliver big bouches at a time,” Anjij explained, moving another piece of the game. “We’ll be here for about a day or so, but I’ll be staying behind to make sure the rations are properly distributed.”

Hiro anxiously glanced over at Kuvira for any reaction or addition, but the woman seemed very engrossed in the designs she was looking at. If Hiro had a better angle she could see what had all of Kuvira’s attention. Quickly she drew her eyes back forward and Anjij was giving her a kind smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Hiro moved a piece in the game, not thinking much of it.

“And that's the game,” Anjij boasted. With her final piece moved, Anjij had successfully completed her Pai Sho board. Hiro folded her hands on her lap, accepting her defeat.

“I told you I was rusty,” she shyly admitted. “It’s been a while since I’ve played an actual game.”

“No one in the big city plays Pai Sho?” Anjij questioned.

“Not really, not like how we played in Zaofu. Most people played fast Pai Sho,” she explained. Asami was the only people she knew in Republic City who still played the traditional form of Pai Sho with slow methodical moves. It had been a while since Hiro played against someone new.

Anjij stole a glance at Kuvira before getting up.

“I’m going to check on the conductor and the other guards. We should be arriving within the next hour. Zhu Li, if you will come with me please, I’d love for you to make more of that jasmine tea,” Anjij flirted. Kuvira resisted rolling her eyes and a clipped warning. Zhu Li simply nodded and followed. Anjij, a flirt as always , Hiro thought.

It left Hiro and Kuvira in an awkward train car alone with cold porridge and documents stacked on the table. Hiro started packing up the Pai Sho game, letting her thoughts take her away from this maglev. As this was only one of the few train cars taken for their mission, it was very quiet. This was the first time she’s seen Kuvira in almost a week. It was almost unnerving how stoic the woman was.

“Do you still play?” The question stuttered out hung in the air, but Hiro couldn’t back out now that the words were already spoken.

“Are you asking for a game?” Kuvira asked carefully. She glanced down at the neatly set up Pai Sho board in front of her. Hiro shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and took a big gulp of the scorching tea to calm her nerves. She was surprised when Kuvira set the papers down and moved to sit across from her in Anjij’s previous seat. Hiro noticed how she placed them face down so she wouldn’t be able to sneak a glance at what she was looking at. “I’ll go first.”

The first few moves were done in silence. Hiro tries to focus on the game and not how this game brought back nostalgia. They’ve played plenty of Pai Sho games in the past, and Hiro knew Kuvira's strategies. Even though it was just a game, something told her that she had to win this one. So she maneuvered her pieces with deft and purpose, different from how she played with Anjij.

“Why did you let Anjij win?” The question caught her off guard and Hiro hesitated while picking up her next piece.

“What do you mean?” She placed the tile down, realizing now that Kuvira was already going in for an attack strategy to win.

“You had her cornered for most of the game. All of a sudden it was like you stopped playing,” Kuvira observed, moving her tile to another space. “So tell me, why would you let her have the upper hand? Most of all, why make her think she got it in the first place?”

Hiro wasn’t surprised by Kuvira’s observation. In fact she knew the whole time that even though the other woman was engrossed with paperwork, she was acutely aware of her surroundings. Nothing could get past Kuvira...which is exactly what Hiro wanted. Her lip quirked up in a half smile.

“Still being very attentive of me, I see. I’m flattered,” she taunted. Her eyes conveyed that she knew what kind of dangerous game she was playing alongside the Pai Sho game. She smoothly transitioned her next piece over by the one Kuvira just moved. “Anjij was always a challenging player. She moved her pieces seemingly sporadically without thought, when in reality she’s trying to out maneuver her opponent as quick as she can, that way she can finish her board. If you play against her the way she wants you to, she won’t even realize you’re the one winning. Pai Sho when played quickly can be fun and exciting and Anjij has found a way to mix the two.

But I’d argue that careful and thoughtful movements with purpose allows you to see your opponent clearly than going fast can. I could’ve slowed Anjij’s gameplay down and ended it sooner, but she’s the type of woman who likes the thrill of the game.

And once she’s won, she’ll utilize the same strategy until she realizes too late that she’s used up all of her cards and tricks… and you as her opponent have bested her at everything she can give.”

Hiro had been studying Kuvira’s body movements this whole time as the woman played with the piece in her hand, eyes drifting up to meet Hiro’s in what looked like surprise. Hiro bit the inside of her cheek as her face broke out in a smile and crossed her arms.

“I believe it is your move.”

While speaking, Kuvira didn’t even notice that Hiro had successfully cornered her, one move away from winning.

---

Kuvira narrowed her eyes. Her keen ears perked up and she turned her head from the game abruptly to the windows. She squints, no longer paying attention to Hiro. Somewhere within the fog, a shadow moved. It was swift and if anyone else had seen it they would’ve waved it off as a mirage. But Kuvira knew better. She knew to trust her own instincts.

Without another thought, she gets up and grabs on to Hiro’s arm, pulling the other woman up with her. Some of the Pai Sho pieces jerked across the table, messing up their almost completed game.

“H-Hey!” Hiro stuttered, surprised at the sudden jerking movement.

Kuvira shoved Hiro to the floor with her falling on top. Soon after, the window that was previously next to them exploded in a flurry of shards and the train car lurched. Hiro gasped, her next words choked in shock. Kuvira felt the rest of the metal churn and jerk as the rest of the windows blew out in the left side of the car. It’s when she feels the train rocking to the side that she feels panic bubble up. But Kuvira wasn’t paying attention to that; not the way her body was being thrown around or the ringing she felt in her ears.

Kuvira closes her eyes and lets her senses take over on the metal around her. That’s her default, she centers on what feels familiar and how she can regain control. Her awareness focused on the metal lining of the train, the plates of metal on the floor, the armor attached to her body. It felt like time slowed down as the train tipped over the edge. Hiro’s screams were only vaguely in the background of the ringing of metal hitting metal and the creaking of the maglev as it tipped over the mountainside, completely detaching from the tracks.

“Hold on.” She felt two arms wrap around her shoulders tightly and bury her face into Kuvira’s collarbone. The car tipped on its side and the rest of the windows shattered underneath them. By now the once pristine meeting room was trashed as furniture, documents, and weapons were tousled to the side of the train. Hiro grunted as they tipped alongside with it, their bodies crashing into a nearby table as the train began sliding off the mountain. Kuvira opened her eyes and inspected the shattered window now above them. The train began skidding down the mountain and slowly building momentum, tumbling further into unknown depths.

I have one shot. One move. Only one split second to get this right.

Fluidly, her arm shot out and with it a thin metal cable attached to her belt. The end of it escaped into the white abyss of the train car empty window. It all depended on the angle, the speed and most of all, luck. Kuvira searched aimlessly for something sturdy to hold on to, but the panic was settling in her bones as they skid further and further down the mountain. Hiro clung to her crying helplessly. She clenched her teeth. C’mon. There has to be something-

There

The green in her eyes sparked to life and the tug from her cable told her to hold on tight. With a flick of her wrist, she latched on to whatever support she found. And the next, she was hoisting both her and Hiro out of the train car and into the white chasm. They flew through, suspended in the air at a fast speed.

Kuvira twisted her body, feeling the ache in her arms and back as she was trying to control her momentum while carrying both of them through the air. Hiro gasped and Kuvira felt her grip loosen slightly. Kuvira was quick and with her free arm, and held Hiro tight to her. In response, Hiro wrapped her legs around Kuvira’s waist, holding on as tight as she could.

She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her, but the dark mass of rock was a breath of relief. It came a lot faster than she intended and her body harshly crashed against the side as they bounced off.

“Do not let go,” she grunted, seeing the mountain coming up again as they swung back towards it. With another grunt and contortion, she managed to get one foot settled firmly on the mountain. All it took was for her to feel the familiar rock underneath her feet, for her to finally let go of the breath she was holding. Her chest heaved and she heard a large thud from far below. She couldn’t completely relax yet, because she still had Hiro clung tightly to her chest. With her bending and pure physics on her side, her metal cable was holding on to something far above them, keeping them from tumbling with the fallen train car. The sweat poured from her forehead. “Hiro, I’m going to pull us up.”

Hiro blinked a couple times, her small body still shaking. Kuvira feels the woman nod against her chest and clench her body even closer. With the reassurance that Hiro wasn’t going to fly off, Kuvira’s attention settled on the metal and slowly they began moving up. Hiro unconsciously gnawed on her bottom lip as they ascended, careful not to make too many movements to disturb their rise. Meanwhile Kuvira focused on keeping supporting both of their weights as they ascended through the misty mountain air.

It was a gangly looking tree growing out of a shallow cave that saved them. It wasn’t very wide and it sloped off to only hold enough room for both of them to lay down and catch their breaths. The cave was damp and cold, but all Kuvira could feel was the burning from her muscles ache. She moved on to her hands and knees, the adrenaline still pumping through her as her hair flew out in tangles against her face. Leaning down, she pressed her forehead against the damp ground, thankful to feel the comforting rock beneath her.

Kuvira cursed, letting herself settle and finally picking up to the frantic shouts coming through the radio attached to her hip. It was staticy and hard to hear, but she could just make out Commander Anjij’s shouts.

“Kuvira! Are you there!” She presses the button on the radio, trying to catch her voice. She sits up, letting her elbows fall on to her bent knees. Looking over at Hiro next to her, she sees the other woman has rolled on to her side with her back facing her. She didn’t seem to have any visual injuries, which was a relief.

“Yes I’m here. Are you hurt? How are the others?” she asked.

“We’re all fine! What about you?”

“I’m alright. Hiro and I are safe.”

“Thank Spirits you both survived!” Anjij sighs. “Where are you?” “In a cave on the side of the mountain. I can’t tell how far we traveled down.” “We’re coming right now! Hang tight!” With that the radio died on the other end. Kuvira gripped it tightly and resisted the urge to crush it or throw it off the ledge. It was her only contact with the rest of the world now. It was the only chance she had to escape this. She looked over at Hiro again, who seemed to finally quake her shaking body.

“Hiro, are you alright?”

“I think so.” The other woman sat up carefully, and despite definite bruises and scrapes, she was safe. The thick material of the Earth Empire uniforms definitely took on most of the impact. Her glasses are gone, and her weary brown eyes fixate on Kuvira. “Thank you.” Kuvira doesn’t respond, but lets out another sigh and leans back against the wall of the cave. Her eyes fall on the empty whiteness outside the cave.

“Don’t thank me. I should’ve taken more safety precautions,” she muttered bitterly to herself. It was a mistake to go into Omashu blind. At this point she knows it was the previous king of Omashu who attacked her. No one else had known that they were arriving. The thought of being crossed made her jaw clench. They would not be getting away with this blatant terrorist attack on her train.

“Kuvira? Are you okay?” the voice cut through her negative thoughts. It was the genuine concern in Hiro’s voice that made Kuvira look up. She didn’t even realize that her hands had balled into fists and the small sliver of earth beneath them was shaking. Looking over, Hiro sat on her knees with a tentative gaze. She kept her hands firmly on her thighs, but she wrestled back and forth reaching out and holding Kuvira’s hand.

One side broke over and Kuvira felt the warmth of Hiro’s hand settle atop her clenched ones.

“I’m alright,” she let out a long shaky breath through her nose, slowly easing her nerves. The feeling of Hiro’s hand touching hers all at once put her at ease and made her nervous. “They are coming to rescue us now.”

Hiro shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, taking away the contact between them. It was quite cold and the harsh wind that occasionally passed made it worse. The adrenaline was wearing off now and Kuvira realized just how much of a dangerous predicament they were in. It was still the morning so there was plenty of light out, but if they weren’t found before sunset, they wouldn’t survive the night. Kuvira stood up abruptly, trying to peer up through the fog at anything. Even if she could launch herself up there, there was no way she could carry both of them all the way back up by herself. And there was to guarantee that there’d be another ledge stable enough to hold them. Right now she could only hope to be found.

---

Hours passed. Even though dusk was still many hours away, their ledge had become freezing. This whole time they were silent and sitting apart with what little space they could find between them. Hiro tried to keep her shaking to a minimum, not wanting to set off the other woman in any way. Hiro’s mind had been racing. Ever since the attack, she couldn’t ease her mind. Did that happen often? Kuvira seemed to be fairly calm about it. It didn’t occur to her before how dangerous being a leader of an empire could be.

“You’re going to get sick.” Kuvira reached out and offered a hand, making Hiro flush. When she didn’t move, Kuvira rolled her eyes. “You either come here and we try to salvage body heat or we both lose a few toes.”

Hesitantly Hiro obliged and pressed her body next to Kuvira’s, making them shoulder to shoulder. She resisted the way her body wanted to sink into the other woman’s unusually warm body as they leaned against the cave wall together. Kuvira’s hair had been let out completely now, and she felt it tickle against her skin.

She felt a shaky breath brush across her neck and she shivered, but this time not from the cold. Kuvira instinctively tucked in closer, making Hiro tense up. If it wasn’t awkward before, it was now with Kuvira’s face practically buried in her neck. Despite the warmth admitted from her, Kuvira’s face was freezing against Hiro’s skin.

“Please,” the word whispered past her ear. “If we’re going to survive this, we’re going to need each other.”

She sounded so sure of herself that they were going to be okay. It was the confidence that made Hiro finally relax into Kuvira’s body and let herself rest. She felt Kuvira’s body slouch as the woman drifted off to sleep. It was clear that carrying them up the precarious mountain had taken a lot out of Kuvira, and Hiro had mixed feelings about the situation they were in now.

She took a risk and reached out to hold Kuvira’s hand in hers as she let the exhaustion take her.

#kuvira #kuvira x oc #kuvira fic #tlok #tlok fanfic #legend of korra fic

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technicolourveins · 5 years

Note

What is Nobilis?

Short Answer? A tabletop rpg I adore, with no dice rolling and an emphasis on narrative creativity, that places you in the shoes of a Sovereign Power. Capable of bending reality itself, but your very possession of this gift binds you to a duty: Protect creation from those who would do it harm and unmake all we know.

The Long Answer?

There is a great tree, suspended in the void, whose boughs hold all the worlds that exist. It is the World Ash. Its crown is Heaven, whose gates are closed. No-one, the angels say, can be both worthy of heaven and willing to leave the earth behind instead of staying to make it a heaven unto itself. If you ask, they will grant you the purity of heart and strength of purpose to work towards this goal. It will also rob you of your ability to tolerate even the most minor evils, in the world or in yourself.

At the roots of the Ash is Hell, host to the fallen angels who once rebelled under the banner of Lucifer. Heaven asks you to be better, and will help you, but loves only the truly Good. Those who followed Lucifer fought for the right of all beings to be flawed, to be less than perfect and still worthy of love. They lost, and hell is their new home. The fallen angels love everyone, it is their nature to be compassionate and warm. Hell is always with you, but it is also flawed. In their separation from Heaven and their deep unabiding love for the evil things which have nothing else to love them, they are corrupted.Their touch is comfort, not grace, they excuse your flaws and make you worse.

Reality as we know it is defined by Imperators, spiritually colossal beings whose host includes the aforementioned angels but is far from limited to them. If our world is a kaleidoscope of lights, they are the glass that gives this light its myriad colours and shapes. They separate what IS from the uniformity of the lands beyond creation.

And there are lands beyond the World Ash! Separated from Creation by the flaming boundary known as the wyrding wall, out there is all that came before. It is nothing, to our eyes. It is dreamlike and transient and defies any categorization. It is wounded. The World Ash is like a flaming spear forcing shape unto the nothingness, occupying and existing where there should be naught. But existence is an A Priori good, so it is okay. Or so we thought.

It is the second age, and the gates of Heaven have been forced open. The gatekeepers lie slain. Slain by the Riders, The Excrucians, the forces of the lands beyond creation whose eyes are black pits in which stars fall and die. It is the turning of the age, and in the slaying of the Angels who define the shape of reality the Excrucians are unmaking us. Until they come across a cloaked figure, standing in their path. The shroud is thrown off and before them stands Attaris Ebrot Appeka, the Imperator of the Third Age, The Age of Pain, The very war against reality that the Excrucians are waging. They dare not slay her, dare not bring about the end of the conflict they have started. Not until they can be sure the world is unstable enough to perish of it.

Now the Third Age lingers, and we are in the midst of war. For the first time reality is truly threatened, it may yet fall. To hold against that end, the Imperators transcend to the higher layers of existence where they are strongest, to fight off the ridings of the Excrucians and the dismantling of reality. Their bodies are vulnerable whilst they are away, so they make pocket dimensions called Chancels in which to bury themselves. But what if an Excrucian should slip by the blockade, and find the comatose and vulnerable form of an Imperator easy prey? To that end, the Imperators fracture themselves. They take a shard of their own being and place it in a mortal, willing or otherwise, and change them into one of the Nobilis. A Sovereign Power. You are unstoppable now, no mortal force can oppose you, how could it? You are Fire, or Darkness, or Fancy Hats, whatever fundamental aspect of reality possessed by your Imperator that they have trusted you with. You are their agent now, enacter of their will within Creation, and sacred protector of their vulnerable hearts while they fight to save us all.

For if we should win? It is the Angel Ananda who shall be the age, the Fourth Age, and Ananda is truly beautiful! So beautiful that to see him is to burst your heart with joy, to pop your lungs singing his praises! Grass becomes joyous crystal at his passing, out of sheer adoration! Humans become mad with hope, chanting ‘‘It’s just! It’s Bright! It’s all worth it in the end!” He is beautiful to us because of what he represents, the end of this painful age and the beginning of Creation’s eternal reign.

Anyway thats Nobilis

#Nobilis #wow i made that long #its a cool-ass game #and i really should post something that isnt nobilis related now

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perseuesjackson · 5 years

Text

frustrations

ao3

words 4300

summary

“We can continue, if that’s what you really want.”

Izuku shuts his eyes and tries to regain coherence over his words. “No, it’s not what I want.”

“And it’s not what you want.”

prompt Ground Zero and Deku are working as heroes and living together as roommates. Bakugou gets traumatized in some manner from something going wrong on the job, but he’s bad at dealing with feelings that aren’t anger, and the only way he feels like he can really let his feelings out is through submission, so he begrudgingly asks Midoriya to dominate him.

a/n this was my Secret Santa gift for @spiny-lumpsucker (think they got banned;;), they wanted bkg dealing with his feelings through submission. i'm so sorry this is late but i hope you like it!!

@bkdksecretsanta

“God dammit!”

A door slammed abruptly. Izuku paused from sweeping the floor and looked towards the doorway.

“Kacchan?”

He was grumbling as he tore off his boots. Kacchan still wore his hero costume. Strange, considering how he would typically change at the agency before coming home.

Walking towards the threshold, he asked, “Did you eat yet?”

“‘m not hungry,” he mumbled.

Izuku frowned. Kacchan wasn’t one to skip meals—he often went on and on about how important it was to stick to a strict regimen, to not stray from it if Izuku wanted to maintain peak physique.

“Are you sure? I made curry. Extra spicy.”

The offer stirred him. He looked up towards the kitchen, probably at the absolute lack of mess of it. “You made curry? Without so much of a mess?”

Izuku huffed. He actually did make a colossal mess of the curry powder, potato shreddings and what not, but Kacchan didn’t need to know that. “Do you want some or not?”

Kacchan looked back down. “No,” he answered. “I’m fine. I’m gonna take a shower.”

Izuku bit his lip; it was obvious something was bothering him, but true to his nature, Katsuki was never one to willingly tell people what was on his mind. Not even Izuku, after all these years.

“Okay,” Izuku acquiesced.

Kacchan strode to their bathroom; even his walk was moody. Izuku watched him as he went, not sure if he should say anything.

“Welcome home,” he added before he shut the door.

Kacchan paused, turned slightly, and with more anguish that Izuku had expected, responded, “...I’m home.”

As the hot water turned on, Izuku sat on the couch, thinking. This is why they have such issues with communication! Kacchan never says what is on his mind, and they simply assume each other’s feelings.

“Only I can receive Kacchan’s feelings!”

Izuku blushed; the words he said at fifteen didn’t seem any less true now, at their mid twenties, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing every time he recalled the memory. At least he hadn’t said it outloud.

But it was true, wasn’t it? Even as the years passed and Kacchan began to trust others more and more, opening up his walls rather than simply relying on himself and his own abilities, Izuku had been the only one Katsuki ever showed his complete vulnerable self with. It makes Izuku feel special, though the thought often confused him before. Why had Katsuki shown this side to him? Izuku understands now, however: Izuku had been the few who ever truly Katsuki completely; who had been there from the beginning and knew everything about him, the good and the bad and the great.

At least, that’s what Izuku hoped. That he could understand Kacchan accurately, even if they can have absolutely horrid communication skills.

Well, he thought to himself as he wipes down the kitchen counter and puts away the apron. Izuku looked towards their bedroom, at the closed door and the sounds of the shower running, you’re just gonna have to do it again.

Here’s the thing.

Kacchan isn’t really a puzzle. Not the sort of puzzle that has a pattern to it, where you can use the same strategy over and over again. But he isn’t completely inconsistent either. Izuku knows that if Kacchan wants coffee with breakfast, it’ll probably mean he’ll come back with a cranky mood and whipping up dinner (successfully!) will counter it. He knows that on Thursdays, due to his late Wednesday work nights, Kacchan tends to forget to bring extra bottle of water to hydrate himself and can easily run into quirk exhaustion.

And in bed, Izuku knows that when Kacchan is stressed, he likes to relax and have Izuku do the work.

(cut for nsfw lol, continue on ao3)

#dailywonderduo #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #my fics #cut for 'sensitive material' lol #hope i dont get flagged for this #yifan

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thaliawinsor · 6 years

Text

What’s in the Box?

There’s a lull of silence, a break in the buzz of excited and nervous whispers, at Newhaven City Hall when Nightingale arrives. The police have cordoned off the area where the parcel was originally found. The brown paper packaging resting in shreds around the box, the letter that came alongside it has been opened but remains in place to be read by the addressed.

There’s a crowd gathering and whilst the police are doing their best to move people along, quickly and without causing a mass panic, the number only seems to increase as the minutes tick by. Leaving crowd control to the police would buy precious seconds with the package, but the noise alone is enough to shatter one’s concentration. The police are concerned with keeping as many people safe as possible but despite their best efforts their warnings fall on deaf ears. Bobby Barkley spares a moment to look over to Nightingale, as if pleading for a moment of their time to help with the matter at hand. The high pitched beeping of the package serves as a looming reminder that there truly isn’t a second to spare.

Nightingale stares at the security cameras as she enters town hall, careful to angle her masked face away from the lens whenever she can. She's too closely connected to those who work in the building to risk being discovered, that thought alone almost put her off attending. But Mainframe was too big of a threat to ignore, she would do Spectrum injustice by not trying to stop him now.

The police presence is expected and whilst she knew there would be straggling employees and maybe press trying to get the first look at the scene, she hadn't been prepared for the sheer amount of people who had stayed behind. The camera phones blocked there faces but the constant chatter was hard to ignore. She stares at Bobby for the longest time, though in truth her focus isn't on his pleading look so much as appriciating him. It's besides the point and there is a task at hand to focus on. She clenches and unclenches her fists methodically, fingernails digging into sweaty palms as the ground continues to grow.

Nervously she steps away from them and the police at the barrier and towards the box, unable to find her voice or the confidence to speak to a crowd. Crowd control conditions are less than ideal as the number of spectators continues to grow. Frustrated exclamations and camera flashes fill the sky. The collective curiosity over the commotion grows and the people are doing whatever they can to get a closer look. Newhaven Police Department officially has their hands full, and while the some officers on duty understand your need to focus on the task at hand, there are those that will take this as you not prioritizing civilians and is something they’ll keep note of in the future. With the number of people growing at a dangerous rate, the police eventually have no choice but to shut down the surrounding block. Whilst this prevents people from entering the area it’s also shut those unlucky enough to be in with Nightingale and the box in. The civilians are now vulnerable to anything that could go wrong.

Eventually Nightingale approaches the box at the center of all the drama, with the on looking eyes of the crowd watching their every move. Upon closer inspection it becomes clear that despite the plain paper packaging it arrived in the box itself is ornate and rather beautiful. There’s a loud and consistent beeping coming from within, going off every second. Suddenly the presence of NHPD’s bomb squad is made all the more understandable. Mainframe’s letter still rests on top awaiting to be read by Nightingale. There’s a palpable tension in the air, only increasing with each passing second spent reading.

“Congratulations. You have been selected for further study and gifted the opportunity to be assessed by myself. Thank you for accepting the invitation so graciously extended but do note than by the time you’re reading this you will have very little time left to prove yourself. The challenge before you is not a test you can win but rather a test to see if you are worthy of being beaten by myself. Do not waste it. - Mainframe.”

After reading the letter, searching and scanning for any hidden messages or meanings or simply taking it at face value, three options become clear to move forward for what to do with the box.

Nightingale could investigate further, as there’s no guarantee that it’s a bomb. It’s possible the timer could be ticking to something else that’s absolutely worth investigating in to, and even taking the extra time may be helpful once the true nature of the box is discovered… or any investigation could be a colossal waste of time. Another option would be not to take any risks at all and destroy the bomb whose detonation marked by the incessant beeping, serving as a reminder that it’s borrowed to to be worked with. There’s no telling what consequences lie with this assumption, as if it turns out to be something more than a bomb, the outcome could be more dire than anticipated.

It could be possible however for Nightingale to both assume it’s a bomb and proceed with a cautious investigation. This would certainly take the longest amount of time, as making sure any prying hands don’t accidentally trip a detonation sequence would be the primary focus… there’s just no telling how much of that precious time there is left to spare.

Nightingale spent the longest time reading over the letter. Not trusting anything the technopath puts in front of her she takes the time to hold the letter up to the window, looking for hidden messages or other kinds of trickery. She ignores the inciting comments of the note, the blonde vigilante has been dealing with the egomaniac long enough to know this is just another taunt.

She keeps her gaze between the letter and the box, refusing to look up and acknowledge the crowd. She'd grown so used to working alongside someone that it felt off balance not having Pitch or Red or Watcher by her side for support. But this was a test for her and according to the news they had their own tests.

Wasting no further time she paces back towards the box and kneels down to get a better look. After nothing leaps out at her she finally outstretches a cautious hand to trace alongside the patterns on the box. Under different circumstances she'd admit it was quite beautiful, something she'd even have on display in her own home, but her intentions now were focused on thwarting Mainframe not redecorating. Nightingale is certain there is more to the box than just a bomb and patiently she continues her checks. The box could be anything if Mainframe is the mastermind behind its contents. Not wanting to go with the obvious conclusion right away, Nightingale delicately traces their hands around the box’s sides to see if there is any other clues. The beeping continues as careful fingers feel around the smooth edges, the ornate detailing giving nothing obvious away at first.

Just when all is starting to feel fruitless, Nightingale's hands find purchase on a catch. The box chimes and shines with a soft green light, releasing the mechanism to begin working the puzzle on the box. It is meant to be opened. She almost rolls her eyes at how predictable it is, because of course Mainframe wouldn't just send a normal bomb like any other criminal would. Her lips purse in concentration, fingertips tracing every inch methodically. She's found one catch, how much harder could it be to find more? It's clear the puzzle is there to test someone's intelligence since Mainframe prizes his so much.

Nightingale turns the box in her hands, looking for sliding pieces or sections to remove. She pushes gently but is cautious to not apply pressure in her examination as the slightest wrong move could spell game over for her. This is just a fancy rubix cube and something she knows she can tackle so long as the time doesn't run out. It takes a while and for a moment many onlookers believe that Nightingale will fail. Murmurs about Spectrum and Sidekick amidst the persistent beeping. Nothing seems to happen despite methodically checking every side, catch and detail. It’s subtle but with the fading light the answer suddenly becomes clear.

A faint gold light shines beneath the gold ornate detailing, lighting and dimming under each touch. Tracing delicate patterns along the puzzle box proves to be a fruitful endeavor as shortly after every inch has been explored a different kind of beeping rings out.

The box chimes thrice again and the a digital voice addresses her.

“You have proven yourself worthy of further assessment. Congratulations are not in order. This was not a trail you could win, even in defeat of one plan I am victorious in another. Enjoy the next week for what it is worth, it will pave the way for your undoing. – Mainframe”

Nightingale allows herself to smile, victorious in her endeavour to solve the puzzle box. The chiming only aiding in lighting the mood. No one misses the beeping. She glances at Bobby and the crowd of people still present, choosing to ignore the comments said only moments ago. She is proud to have proven herself and holds the box up as a trophy almost.

Mainframe has always been bitter in defeat and, stupidly, she does not heed his words as any real threat.

The box react in her hand and faster than reaction time could allow, the nano-bots to do their work. They weave their way into her costumes fabric and make skin contact, bonding to her and gathering what they need. It’s subtle at first, not even the onlooking police force notice the small changes taking effect with Nightingale. It seems the puzzle box was just a means to an end for Mainframe, the true test is enduring the after effects of whatever serum he’s created and had injected through his nano-bots.

Small enough to seep through her skin like vapor, the bots first make their way to her main arteries to take route. It doesn't take long for the bots to seep into her bloodstream and administer the hormone through her system. The serum works quietly and slowly, but the personality changes she'd experience over the next several days are going to hinder the heroine soon enough.

The hormones were strong enough to serve as another identity for Nightingale, one in which every instinct and trait was reversed. As the glue that often holds a group of them together, Mainframe knew that having an "Anti-Nightingale" of sorts would be the key to their demise. However the fallout of this affected her personal life was of no consequence for the reward.

The tickle of a headache forms behind her eyes as the process slowly begins.

#the birth of anti thalia lol #eventvig

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silverlovesmadi · 7 years

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My interpretation of the Black Sails series finale

Why do I feel like Flint being reunited with Thomas is his version of the afterlife? I mean looking at the same (or simular) grey-ish cinematography, just like the death dreams Flint had about Miranda. On the other hand the flashbacks had the same cinematography as well. And Flint’s reunion with Thomas not being true would mean that Silver lied to Madi and even though I guess that is the only thing he considered worth lying about, because he was concerned for her life, it still feels purposely vague. If it is true, then I am happy for Thomas, but not Flint. I will stand by that sentiment. I guess the ambiguity of it all is fitting and in true TI fashion? It just saddens me that Madi never got to see the other side of Flint, the monster, because if she did, she wouldn’t be so defensive about him. There is SO MUCH Madi hasn’t witnessed. Will she ever know? Will she ever truly know? The lives he ruined? The countless of people he betrayed because of his extreme selfishness? All the lying, the deceit, the secretiveness etc. Forcing men to do his bidding by inciting fear through terror. The monster he created in Billy because of it? Will she ever know that Flint just wanted to watch the world burn? And how tragic an end for Billy to be the one end up marooned, knowing it is Flint’s actions that led him to that point.

That fight scene was really hard to get through, like it legit took me over ten pauses or something, because ugh, I was really hurting for both sides. I think it’s so hard for Madi to hear what Silver has done, on the one hand, ofcourse, because the man you trusted the most, love the most, the one you believe to be completely on your side, the only one you can be truely vulnerable with, was the one who took away the one thing you wanted the most, fought for the most. But most importantely, he planned it, which means he knowingly didn’t let her in on it. They usually tell each other everything, they’re a duo, a team, so for him to leave her completely out on such a huge decision must’ve come completely out of left field. Don’t forget, Madi is a proud woman, she is used to being in control, managing and deciding the situation. On the other hand I also think it’s hard for her to hear, because if she’s to admit to herself that what Silver told her about Flint is true, that would mean she’d had to admit to herself she too made the mistake of putting her trust in Flint. And that must be something incredibally difficult to make peace with. Madi is a fighter by nature, she has a very restless spirit knowing the practice of slavery is still thriving, and the brutalizations inflicted on it’s victims are still happening. I think, next to Silver’s “betrayal”, Madi was crying because of so many other things (her cause “failing”, humiliation and her pride being wounded, being outvoted by her own people about the treaty, the loneliness of being the only one who wants more for her people and the world, feeling like no one is in your corner, feeling like you’re not being taken seriously, not being used to be undermind in this way or at all etc.), but ultimatily underneed it al I think she was crying because of this very deep seaded frustration of knowing that, because of the colour of your skin, you can’t EVER go wherever you wanna go because the world only views you as a slave and nothing more. They don’t care that you’re so much more than that, they only care about how hard you can work to make them money. Just like Silver always wanted to find someone to see and love him for he is, Madi wants the world to see and accept her for who she is. To let her truely live free in it. This is what she always wanted for herself and her people. To not have that, is like living in a mental prison. And for someone who is that brave and is so curious about the world and has such an adventurous spirit, that must be terrifying.“She wasn’t made to be hidden away from the world”. It’s like, because she was born free, she’s thinking; I have this privilege, this luxury of being fearless, because I didn’t face oppression. Therefore I’m strong enough to take on the weight of the goddamn world, to take on the weight of all the ghosts of the people who died in chains and to take on the weight of the ones who are living in chains now. But the problem is, she is only one person, and that’s a colossal burden for one person to bare.

But Silver has been living in that world, therefore has seen more of it, is literally shaped by it (which made it easier for him to be on Julius level of understanding) so he knows the scope of the enemy she wants to defeat is so much bigger and larger then she can comprehend. He’s like: Madi I love you, with all my heart, I really do, but I’m not gonna let you continue to carry this unhumanly immense burden, I’m gonna save you from yourself and if you’ll hate me for it so fucking be it. Silver has never been apolitical imo, because if you would ask him what he wanted to see different in the world, I have no doubt he’ll have an entire list of answers. He’s a pacifist at heart, doesn’t always act like one, reluctantly, but he is. He is down to fight for the right cause, just not in the destructive way Flint intended and Madi wanted to follow. And he’s happy for it, because it means he didn’t turn into Flint. Sidenote: Look at Silver’s eyes throughout all his emotional scenes, only his eyes, the sincerity and emotion he evokes with just his eyes when he speaks, Lord, they’re so communicative.

I remember Luke Arnold saying in an interview that Silver became a man trying to do right by Madi’s mother and her people, because of his love for her. So him caring about Madi meant him caring about her people and her cause by default (freeing slaves, not the violence or war that required it). The Similarities between him and Julius are also undeniable. How many times have we heard Silver questioning this war, not just because of Madi, but also because the casualties it would undoubtedly take. When they finally defeated Eleanor in taking over Nassau, Silver pretty quickly told Flint that he didn’t expect it all to happen so violently and chaotic. Even Dooley was shook.“ But Flint continued with his, it’s al normal and part of it in the beginning. Silver “admired” his optimism. This was BEFORE his one on one with Billy. And in episode 9 when Silver long put his exit strategy in place, he questioned Flint again on his war; What next? After all the chaos and distruction? Did you actually think this shit through? And again with all the downplaying and romantizing the outcome.

In a way Flint, a mad man with no intentions of fighting for the same cause (but probably even convinced himself that he was), was Madi’s only hope to realize her dream to fight all this injustice and oppression and to actually prevail in it, and that is just so very tragic. It makes me so angry that Flint gave her all this false hope that they could win. I hope she finds an other way, a better way to fight for this cause, her cause.

Okay, now that scene with the scared cook was such a good callback, because it makes you pause and reflect again on how far this Silver is from the man who he used to be in the first episode of season 1. That was just downright CHILLING, from the menacing “Are you a fucking coward?” to the terrified man telling him that he was just the cook, which made Silver stop in his tracks for a second (and probably realize how ironic it is that he of all people called him a coward). And when he screamed “IS SHE STILL ALIVE??!!!”. All of that was some straight up LJS. Man I am still astounded by the profound change this man has went through throughout this entire story. And I just knew that in whatever state he was gonna find Madi in he was gonna be absolutely gutted and heartbroken. I was completely with him through all his emotions, from the absolute fear of being too late and the devistating grief and disbelief of her possibly not being alive after all, to the snapping out of it when she turns her head towards him. God I just love how Silver always breaks down and changes from LJS the pirate to just John Silver, the person, the man, when he sees her, it’s downright magical. She’s just so incredibally precious and invaluable to him. When he held her head and pressed is head to her head, in that moment they both didn’t need to be strong anymore and Silver sat there like he was already home and never wanted to leave.

In their last scene Madi looked like she was finally ready for that first conversation since their fight, like she was ready to dip her toes in the Silver pool again and talk to him, not fight. And I admire her for it, because it shows that despite what he did, she was able to acknowledge why he did it. It speaks of true character on her part. I hope that she realizes and will come to appreciate that her alliance did have a big impact and that she did make a difference by creating the opportunity for the slave communities in Nassau to escape and aiding a big part of them to making it to Maroon Island. But also causing the mobilization of the Maroon leaders from other island communities who were inspired by what her alliance achieved and might pick up where she left off. The defeat of Rogers which allowed for Featherstone and Max to take over, two people I’d much rather deal with regarding resources from Nassau then Rogers. And yes, the treaty that guaranteed safety for the largly growing community on her island, that too. The abolition of slavery took milions of tiny and big steps throughout history, because it was that difficult to defeat. Even if the alliance could’ve achieved such an impossible feat, then it would still take a really long time for things to get better for Black people. But I get it, you don’t know until you see it with your own eyes and Madi is a really curious woman. In the end Madi has started to found her way back to Silver and that is all that matters to me. Silver, I swear to God, his stubborn faith in the power of his love for Madi and his unwavering dedication to her, uggh. I understand Madi’s anger completely, but I still love that Silver did what he did. That deep, passionate, emotional and intense connection that these two have, I’ve never seen anything like it portrayed this way on television. Realistic, organic and true, despite being such opposites on the inside and out, not giving a shit what the world thought of them daring to see each other for who they truly are. I swear, Romeo and Juliet could never! I’m really gonna miss them.

So yeah, I ugly cried a lot this episode because Madi and Silver are such painfully HEARTBREAKING characters, in who they are, what they went through and everything they stand for. All in all, this episode left me semi-satisfied / semi-conflicted, because there are still some emotional bruises for our couple and not everyone got their due imo.

I loved the way they ended the episode, because it didn’t feel like an ending. Just because this was the last episode of this show, just because Madi and Silver settled down or Flint is “gone”, it doesn’t mean the story is over. And the intro to Mary Read, I kinda screamed, because at first it was clear you heard a woman’s voice, cut to her face, then I thought: Jim Hawkins? Because she so specifically asked about LJS. Then I immediately thought, naaah, waaay too soon into the story. So the only thing I was left with was that actually made sense was Mary Read, because not only did she sound like a woman, but her boyish looks gave her away as well (Hence I thought she was Jim for a sec.). And when she introduced herself as “Mark” Read I was like OMG I knew it! The show introduced her character anywaaay (because the creators said they wanted to earlier in the show or at least thought about it, but eventually thought better of it in the end). And the way Anne immediately disregards her, boooy if she only knew, the two of you are in for a treat lol.

#man i talk a lot lol #and into excruciating detail #see what my brain does to me?#madi x silver #madi scott #john silver #bsmadi #bssilver #black sails season 4 #black sails spoilers #meta analysis #my posts #slavery #colonialism

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horrortoyou · 6 years

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The Best Horror Movies of 2018 So Far

best horror movies of 2018

Click here to know more.

Hot damn, 2018 is turning out to be one serious year for repulsiveness. Around this time a year ago, Blumhouse had just conveyed the one-two punch of Split and Get Out, and that was just the beginning of a string of frightfulness hits that finished in IT turning into the most noteworthy earning blood and gore flick ever. So it's sheltered to state this year beyond any doubt has a ton to satisfy, however with the absolute most foreseen titled of the year still on the docket, it's as of now simple to see this is a standout amongst the most energizing and effective years with sickening apprehension history.

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The lineup has run the range from educated and existential fear to shocking retribution spine chillers and abuse twisted loathsomeness comic drama. We've discussed "raised repulsiveness," did the calmest popcorn chomping ever in A Quiet Place, recollected the amount we cherish Nicolas Cage, and delved profound into discussions over testing films like Annihilation and Hereditary. It's been an extremely solid year for the class, to be sure.

We're keeping this rundown bound to films that have been discharged in 2018 — be it dramatically, carefully or on a spilling administration — so you won't perceive any unreleased celebration top choices on here, yet we'll be refreshing the rundown consistently. Also, with movies like Halloween and Suspiria on the docket, we have a ton to anticipate,

Unsane.

A producer who's never substance to avoid any risk, Steven Soderbergh chose to handle enormous thoughts with little means in Unsane, another mental blood and gore flick shot totally on an iPhone (however as a matter of fact with some huge spending focal points and programming). The organization may appear to be a hacky contrivance, however in Soderbergh's grasp, it works, conveying a bizarre closeness to the skewed story of biting suspicion and society's preposterous hesitance to trust ladies. Claire Foy proceeds with her ascent to the best as Sawyer Valentini, a youthful agent who moves to another city after a frightening knowledge with a stalker. When she begins seeing him wherever once more, she starts to scrutinize her very own existence, and after an as well fair treatment session, she coincidentally concedes to a psychological healing facility where she could possibly be caught with the man she's endeavoring to get away. Soderbergh plays with your brain, and that is a large portion of the fun, however it's the manner in which he jabs and goads at the experience of uneasiness and entanglement that makes Unsane such a viable excursion down the rabbit opening. It tends to be somewhat obtuse and schlocky at minutes, yet when Unsane burrows at a nerve, it generally hits, making for a greatly frightening knowledge.