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artist-issues · 9 months

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About Greta Gerwig, Little Women, and Narnia

Greta Gerwig should not be in the Narnia realm at all. As anything.

The Narnia stories are inseparable from Christianity. Greta Gerwig is a Unitarian Universalist. This means she, in her own personal life, doesn’t believe in the saving work of Jesus Christ, which is a core belief of Christianity, and a core theme in Narnia. Everything in the Narnia books hinges on this, from the character motivations to the structure of the fantasy world to the way the magic in Narnia works.

Additionally, the women in Narnia do not adhere to post-modern or even antique feministic values. They are celebrated for their love and tender-heartedness and faith, all of which require self-sacrifice. Aravis of The Horse and His Boy starts out a proud warrior escaping an arranged marriage and ends up a humbled lady of Archenland court marrying the Prince. Susan Pevensie is at her best when she’s tender-hearted and at her worst when she doubts and becomes more concerned about her own identity than others. The school that Eustace and Jill go to in The Silver Chair is derided for it’s feministic views. By contrast, modern feminism is opposed to self-sacrifice, and that is the kind of thing Greta Gerwig demonstrates belief in throughout all of her works.

Am I saying that no person who isn’t a Christian or some type of conservative when it comes to feminism can ever work on Narnia? Absolutely not. I’m not saying that. Lots of people on the Walden Media Narnia movie (the first one), which was great, were not Christians and did not believe in the saving work of Christ. But they stayed faithful to the source material, even if they didn’t believe in the source material themselves. So the story retained it’s autonomy and power.

Greta Gerwig can’t do that. She has already demonstrated that she does not know how to make a story that hangs on to it’s integral source material if she, herself, doesn’t agree with that source material. She can’t be objective, and therefore, she can’t be faithful to what Narnia is.

How do I know that? Little Women.

I don’t care if you liked the Little Women movie by Greta Gerwig. I don’t care if the acting was “amazing” and I don’t care if Timothee Chalamet and Florence Pugh are great in it. I said exactly what I said. Greta Gerwig made a great movie—but she made a terrible adaptation of Little Women.

It was not Little Women. She made changes to Little Women. What changes, you ask? Changes to the specific pieces of the source material that did not reflect Greta Gerwig’s personal views.

That’s the cardinal sin for directors of adaptive stories or remakes—to make changes to the core themes of a classic tale, because you don’t agree with those core themes. That’s called mutilation, not “updates.”

Here’s how she did it in two major ways in Little Women:

She cut out Jo’s humble response to Friedrich’s gentle rebuke of sensation stories, and replaced it with a feministic self-pitying outburst from Joe and s borderline apathetic, cool piece of feminist advice from Friedrich. That takes all the continuity out of it and warps the characters. That scene is so pivotal in the book. It’s Jo, respecting a man who is much older and excellent in character than any other she’s ever known, and feeling immediately humbled by him calling her out. She’d never have responded that way if Laurie called her out. They would have argued. But this scene was supposed to show what Jo needed from a future romantic partner. She needed someone she respected, someone who could be wise and gentle—two things Laurie is not. She needed someone who would help her take her eyes off of worldly success and herself, and onto eternal benefits to mankind, specifically, the effect her stories might have on children. His gentle, respectful, wise love (and the love of characters like Beth) turns Jo from a self-absorbed writer into a selfless mother, like her own Marmee.

But Greta Gerwig never wanted Jo to be a selfless mother. She wanted, and I quote, “Jo’s love to be her work, and her romance with Friedrich secondary.” You know why?

Because that’s what Greta Gerwig believes in. Greta Gerwig’s life is her work. Watch any of her movies, you’ll see the smudge marks of that wholehearted belief all over them. She can’t even be objective when the whole point of a character is to make work secondary, as was certainly the case with the character of Jo March. No. She has to twist up one of the best American heroines ever into an automaton of herself.

The second way she mutilated source material is with Amy and Laurie. In the books, Amy and Laurie grow to love each other out of the character deficiencies that they make up for in one another. At the start of their courtship, Amy is ambitious and Laurie is lazy. Amy wants to marry for advantage, and Laurie wants to make much of his spurned love for Jo by giving up on life. And that’s it.

It’s Amy who first wakes up to feeling something romantic toward Laurie, not Laurie, and Laurie is not the first to make a move on her. Laurie does not know he is in love with Amy until well after she knows she loves him. Then, he does not make the first outward advance on Amy. They both come to the same conclusion together; when they do, she does not resist. In Greta Gerwig’s version, he’s back to falling in love with a girl who’s resisting, because that’s where Timothee Chalamet’s emotional acting shines or whatever.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that she adds a feminism speech from Amy, as a reason for her resistance, and she subtracts the scene where Laurie actually proposes. The scene where Laurie proposes, in the book, is so beautiful.

The two characters are in love, they know they’re in love, and neither of them is insecure about it. Amy has learned that she needs a life-partner who knows her and will protect her, like her old home-values did, and not some rich aristocrat or prince. Laurie has learned that he needs a life-partner who can stir him toward change, not through big explosive arguments and hope of conquered affection like Jo, but with gentle love and sheer inspiration, found in Amy.

So, in the most beautiful analogy for courtship that ends in marriage ever, he proposes to her while they’re rowing on a lake. She’s sitting next to him in the middle of the boat, she’s got one oar, he’s got the other, and she says, “How well we pull together, don’t we?” And he says, “so well that I wish we might always be in the same boat. Will you, Amy?” And she says “yes.”

That’s it. No argument. No big, passionate, sentimental explosion like he had with Jo. No wrenched and broken heart-strings. He didn’t have to convince her. She didn’t have to resist. Because entirely without force, and entirely without insecurity, they protected each other’s hearts and came to a conclusion that was based on something so much deeper and more eternal than fleeting passion.

Greta Gerwig cut that out and listened to Meryl Streep and put in another stormy lover’s-quarrel speech from Amy about why she couldn’t be with Laurie because she was in Jo’s shadow, and feminism and marrying for advantage, blah blah blah. It’s terrible. It’s mutilation. It ruins everything the original Little Women had.

it doesn’t matter if she got some of the characters right. It doesn’t matter if she got a lot of the quotes right. It doesn’t matter if all of Act 1 of the movie is mostly-book-accurate. If you change load-bearing themes or character motivations, you show that you can’t be objective and faithful to the source material.

It is fine if Greta Gerwig wants to make a movie about a woman who loves her work more than anything else. It is fine if she wants to make a movie about how women are under-appreciated for their minds and souls, and have characters that go on a journey to prove it. But it is not fine to use someone else’s story to say it. Make your own story, Greta Gerwig.

Oh, you already did? See: Lady Bird? See: Frances Ha? Then come up with something new. Don’t shoehorn your same beliefs into every franchise that is offered to you, like vomiting, then eating the vomit and regurgitating it over and over in new colors. Figure out how to tell someone else’s story in a faithful way, objectively, or else keep your stained hands off until you can clean them up. Especially, keep them off Narnia.

Greta Gerwig makes movies for Greta Gerwig, by Greta Gerwig. She can’t be objective, and for that, she can’t do Narnia. She can’t do it justice, she can’t do it faithfully, because she makes movies for herself, by herself.

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howi99 · 1 month

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Team RWBY + "Marie" camping for the night

???: *sigh*

Ruby: Hey, are you ok?

???: Uh? Oh yeah... Say, how's the world out there? Remnant, i believe?

Ruby: *sitting next to her* I'm not the best to explain but i got pictures if you want.

???: That would be nice.

*as Ruby showed "Marie" the numerous places she took pictures in remnant, "Marie" seems to be interested by a particular couple.

???: I see that you have a lot of pictures of those two, who are they?

Ruby: They are my best friends, Jaune and Penny. We traveled a lot with his team. *Worried* I really hope they are ok. With what Weiss said, they were being attacked by Cinder before she fell... *Shacking her head* I'm sure they are alright, i'm sure Jaune had a plan, he always does!

???: *looking at the ground, speaking quietly* i hope he does....

Ruby: What?

???: *sigh* Nothing. But anyway, what are they like?

Ruby: Oh! Well, Jaune and Penny are- *began to explain all the adventures they had together, leaving Marie completely bewildered by all the new information*

???: Woah, they seem to be a real close duo. Though the fun facts were uh...

Ruby: Oh, they are! Completely inseparable! And yeah... They are not the best knowledge to be stuck in your brain... You know, you seem a lot less secretive compared to this morning.

???: *a bit embarrassed* It's more of an act than anything really. Sorry if i called you little Red. Someone i know called me that recently and it stuck.

Ruby: Someone else, eh? What's their name?

???: He appeared recently. Though i don't remember his name, i really liked his hat! He also had a friend with him but she didn't talk much. They were already near the city so they should already be there.

Ruby: ......... Was one tall with orange hair and the other pink and brown?

???: yeah! They fell with you?

Ruby: Oh boy. They are... Friendnemy? Allies of circumstances? Anyway, they are not good news unsupervised, so we really need to find them when we arrive, ok?

???: *shrugs* if you say so.

Yes, Roman didn't die in that AU. It's part of the rework i'm doing on it.

#jaune arc #rwby #rwby au #jaune is a genius au #ruby rose #oc

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amournoir · 3 months

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play toy 🧸

characters: f!reader x innocent!rafe cameron

warning: does implied smut count?

count: 1k

note: okay so i decided to do a thing. it’s a very short blurb but please lmk what you think!?

It was a random day in the middle of the week but when the Camerons throw a party, attendance is not a question. I had been friends with the kooks since childhood although I was something of a hybrid, kook mother and pogue father, I still fit in both world. Sarah, a few of her friends, and I had been in her room enjoying the party from there. After a while, they left but I remained, there was a knock on the door then her brother walked in. Rafe noticed me sitting on her bed and immediately walked up to me, “Who are you and why are you in my sister's room?"

“I’m Sarah’s best friend, Y/N.”

He eyes you up and down, “Best friend eh? You two been 'best friends'?”

I smirked and replied, “Yeah, I like having fun with her if you know what I mean.” It’s not as though Rafe had never met me, he had dozens of times but majority of those were in public settings or when he wasn’t drunk out of his mind.

“Oh I bet you have. How long have you two been 'best friends'?”

“Almost two years now.”

“Two years and I haven't seen you? I would have thought you two would have been inseparable, have you spent the night with her?”

Rafe was suspicious of me and my intentions with his sister but it felt less like him being a caring big brother and more of him just being nosy with a hint of jealousy. So of course I was going to play along.

“Why do you care who I’ve spent the night with?” I ask with a slight raise of my brow. “And you have seen me, you’d remember if only you weren’t an alcoholic frat boy.”

“I just don't think my sister should be hanging around such a...” He glances my way with a slight look of disdain. “Type of person.”

“Oh I get it. You’re just jealous I’ve never spent the night with you.”

“Why would I be interested in you? You're too trashy for anyone to want to be with including your supposed best friend who should have much better priorities.”

“Your mouth says trashy but that bulge in your pants says otherwise and so do your eyes.” I smile playfully at him, “Have you been watching me Cameron?”

He is taken aback by the remark, a slight blush rising to his cheeks and his heart starts racing. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the dresser. Rafe doesn’t respond, he just glares at me quietly.

“You know, I think I might spend the night with Sarah tonight. But don’t worry, I promise we won’t be too loud.” I wink at him knowing full well it’d get under his skin.

“You fucking—” Rafe tries to keep it together but is becoming more enraged by the minute. “I swear if you so much as even touch her.”

“Oh I’ve done far more than touch her. Your little sis is such a freak, don’t you know? She loves going down on me.”

“No. She wouldn't.” He shakes his head, either to deny it or erase the image from his head, who knows. His face is becoming more red with anger the more I continue to talk. “She's...my sister!”

“Yes and she’s my special girl. And just for that I’ll be sure you hear how loud I make her.”

“N...No. You—” Rafe is trying his absolute best to remain calm, but the thought of his sweet little sister with another girl is far too much for him to bear.

“She’s such a good girl when she’s tearing up especially when she begs me to keep going.” I honestly can’t stop. Who knew all I had to do to get under his skin was tease him about his sister’s sluttiness.

I can see the effect my crude comments have on him, they are making him feel sick to his stomach. His chest is quickly rising and falling, getting tighter as his breathing becomes heavy and quick. “STOP! Just stop!”

I smirk and ask, “Why don’t you make me Cameron?”

He glares at me, uncrossing his arms from his chest and clenches his fists. “I could.”

I pull myself to the edge of her bed and let my feet dangle off the side. I look at him and simply say, “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll stop playing with your sweet Sarah if you become my play toy.”

He is speechless but his eyes narrow. “You're serious? You would really leave my sister alone if I did...that…for you?”

I shrug nonchalantly and add, “I might screw her one more time for old times sake but yeah, I will.”

I can see the internal battle going on just by reading his face. Rafe’s body is filled with a mix of rage and excitement but he can't decide which emotion he is feeling more. My interest is slightly piqued just by watching him actually consider my offer.

“Five seconds Rafe before she returns and I bend her pretty firm ass over this bed as you watch.”

He unclenches his fist and lets out a heavy sigh before nodding his head in agreement.

“Say it.”

There's a long pause. Rafe's eyes water and he is visibly shaking but eventually he is able to respond, “I— I…will be your play toy.”

“Good boy.” I smile in satisfaction just as Sarah walks in. She’s in a short black skirt and a white tube top with the first two buttons open. I look over at Rafe and instruct Sarah whilst keeping my eyes on him, “Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees on the bed for me.”

His eyes instantly widen. I couldn’t believe that he would actually agree to being my play thing. I could just see the rage-filled thoughts running through his mind and the helplessness coursing through him as he watches his precious little sister obey. Still locking my eyes with Rafe’s, I flip over Sarah’s skirt, exposing her thong and slap her ass.

“Good. Now let’s get started.”

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @jjsbank444 @moremaybank @ungodlyfeminine @rafesangel @rafesthroatbaby @rafetopia @tinyluvs @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @slinthoex @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @klaustopia @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @impossibleheartflower @spike-and-angels-gf

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#aurora.r fics #blurb ✨#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #sarah cameron #obx #outer banks

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dollypopup · 4 months

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fuck it, gonna do it myself since the showrunners refuse to

Colin Bridgerton Background and Headcanons

+Colin was a chubby child, but became super lanky around his pre-teens, just before he went to Eton

+He would play piano with Francesca for Mum. He always wanted to play and sing for Papa, too, but Edmund was usually with Anthony and Benedict. Still, he and Fran would sit on the shorter velvet cushion so they could reach the pedals, and they would take turns singing silly made up songs, or church hymns

+Because of his age, he was always excluded from the 'Boys' club of the family. At ten years younger than his older brothers, and not an Heir OR the Spare, this is when he started getting particularly close with his sisters, El, Daph, and Fran. He and Daphne were almost inseparable growing up.

+Colin got SEVERAL makeovers from his sisters. They always said he was just as pretty as they were, and powdered him with too much blush, bribing him with extra snacks if he wore one of their dresses. He did, of course. Those Tea Parties were fancy affairs, after all. Once, Eloise tried to braid his hair for it, too, but it was just too short

+Of all his siblings, Colin is the only one Papa ever punished physically. After Colin hit Eloise and Papa saw, he horsewhipped him in the stable. Colin is a boy, soon to be a man, Papa said, he should never lay a hand on a lady, *any* lady. Colin wonders why he cannot hit a lady, but anyone can hit him. It's the start of his hero complex and his martyr streak, too. He does not matter in the scenario, others do. He can get hurt, but others cannot.

+It's not three months after Edmund dies that Colin is sent to Eton. He's the only boy in their entire family to ever go there, and the prestige of Oxford was just unnecessarily for a third son. The funds were already put aside, Colin's traveling trunk packed, and the first year paid out. He had no choice. As a lanky, scrawny, barely 5 feet tall 12 year old boy, Colin leaves everything he has ever known behind to mourn in private, on his own, far from anything familiar

+Eton has. . .to say problems would be an understatement. Colin is under the tutelage of the harshest superintendent of the century for only one year toward the end, but it is far more than enough. The treatment is horrible. (look it up, this is historically accurate!). 'Flogging Fridays' were so harrowing, the uprisings by the students ended in stalemates and fury. In that last year, Colin had long hit his growth spurt, and resented a bully deep, *deep* in his bones. In his last year at Eton, Colin broke so many windows in the uprising that for days after, he was picking glass shards out from his clothes

+His first year at Eton was hard. Colin was small and alone and had no one in his corner. He made friends with some others, but for the most part, he was an easy target for the older boys to pick on. His name couldn't shield him from that. Being so small, even when he tried to fight back, he wasn't very successful, and most times, they would report him for violence anyway, so his choices were two fold- sit down and take it, or square up

+Colin learns to box at Eton. It isn't encouraged, surely, but one of his classmates noticed how Colin was very much not having a good time and put two and two together. He was older, a bit fatherly, almost, even though he wasn't even 18, yet. It was his last year so he was less concerned with doing things as the world expected it. Colin followed him around like a little duckling. Everywhere James went, Colin went. They sat with each other to eat dinner, then would sneak off to spar and train. He was Colin's first crush. He never told anyone, but he *is* grateful

+When Colin comes home for the first time, he *knows* everything is different. There's already a rift forming. Colin becomes a haunt in the hallway, only there in the summers and for holiday breaks. Colin becomes a ghost, half seen, wandering Aubrey Hall. Mama is over the moon, of course, as over the moon she can be still deep in grief, as is Daphne, but Fran is quieter, now, and Eloise turns away from him, frustrated at his freedoms when she gets none. Anthony has no time for him, save to ask if his studies are well, and Benedict is busy taking care of the babs

+Colin's favorite place to be when he was home was with Hyacinth. He'd sneak into the nursery and gently hold her. Though there were nurses, Colin was there so often, they swore she never cried. The truth was, Hy cried often, but Colin would notice the signs and comfort her. It made him feel better, to know there was something in this world that might need him. No one else needed him. Not Mama, not his sisters, certainly not his brothers. So, he rocks the baby sister he barely knows, and he sings her lullabies, and he cries with her, sometimes, and he's just a little less alone

+He's 14 by the time he finally starts gaining height. A late bloomer, a professor or two teases. They thought it would never come, really. He'd been a been pole for as long as anyone could remember, ever since he turned 6, but all of a sudden, he looked almost skeletal. Shooting up near an entire foot was awful. For a lot of people in his life, this was the first they'd seen him be openly miserable and snappish. Sore and frustrated, Colin had the shortest fuse he'd ever had. Oh, he had a temper. Always did. But he typically knew how to reign it in. During his growing pains, it was impossible. This is the manifest of him not sharing his food- he was constantly ravenous, and lord help anyone trying to get between him and his plate

+Colin first meets Penelope when he's 16, filled out and coming into his own, an insta-crush for Penelope, but for Colin? First thing he thought after her bonnet knocked him off his horse is that she looked like a peach. All round and pink and in her yellow dress. Colin likes peaches. So Colin likes her. It was simple as that for him

+He never got into Eloise's rivalry about Penelope. Honestly, he didn't think about her very often. Penelope seemed sweet, but she was near silent. Eloise would tell him that she wasn't that way with her, as though bragging, and Colin just shrugged. He didn't have any real interest or investment in their friendship, but he did try to be polite. The one time, Penelope stood in front of him and tried to say something for an entire minute, only to squeak and thrust out a book at him, turning tail and making off. He found it surprisingly funny. She opened up to him slowly, got more comfortable in increments, but he thinks back to that moment and remembers that she's come a long way. Would be nice to see where they end up (forshadowinggggg)

+Colin doesn't like to drink. Never carried a torch for the taste, really, but other men did it, and only in drinking did they seem to have any semblance of closeness. Colin tries it for himself. It never really works out

+Charm becomes a second skin to hide himself in. Deflecting questions to other people, remembering details about them and bringing them up, asking questions and using humor. Funny how humor lands so much easier, now. At Eton, he had no protection. (No wonder he despises a bully) But now, he was grown. Now, he was a 'man'. A conventionally attractive man (he can't really deny it). He's tall and he's finally started filling out broad and big, and he uses it to his advantage. When he talks, in his mind, somewhere, he's still that 5 foot tall boy, crying in the carriage to an unfamiliar place or grinning and bearing it his first year at school. But this time, he has a cloak to wrap around himself. This time, yes, he's softhearted and tender, but he is also beautiful and knows how to focus on someone else, and he uses it to his advantage.

+Colin understands this privilege, because for a time, he knew what it was like without it. Colin sees what happens to those who do not have it, also. For Colin, charm is the sprinkle of honey over his bitter fears and concerns. For Colin, charm is the fun party hat everyone gets to see- not that he's sad, not that he's conflicted, not that he's unsure. He's pretty. That's enough for them

+But it isn't enough for HIM. Colin grapples with his purpose because the idea that he should be content to be attractive and well off and nothing else sits unpleasantly with him. Colin wants to be a self-made man, but he is denied the opportunity. So he tries to navigate the world as it is around him, having been pre-molded and determined to a certain outcome.

+So, Colin's arc is about becoming a Man, but he is not a conventional one, so he works from example. What do Men do? Colin certainly didn't have his father to inform him, so he relies on the other men around him. Well. . .Men visit brothels and have mistresses and drink whiskey and go to clubs, but Colin doesn't want to go to a brothel, and he doesn't desire a mistress, and whiskey burns when it goes down, acrid as the smoke thick and smoggy in the clubs. So. . .what else? Well, Men get married. Men take care of a family. Men are educated.

he can do THAT

+Colin attempts to marry in Season 1 not because he is fully infatuated (he likes Marina, sure, but his eagerness is not just rooted in such) but because he is attempting to find purpose. To find meaning. To be a Man, a GOOD man. And Good Men are married, so Colin will be married. Good Men take care of their family, so Colin takes care of his family, so Colin offers to BE her family. But because these are rooted in aimless endeavors (Colin wants to be A man, but not THE man he envisions for himself), they fall apart. Now, Penelope certainly has a hand in it falling to pieces, but Colin didn't really have the right motivations to start off with, so in season 2. . .

+He's depressed. It's odd to me that others would describe season 2 as an arc in which Colin is successful. The entire time, he is in a deep depression. Colin partakes in drugs, specifically to not think about the world, or to find peace and comfort. Colin claims that no one wants to hear his stories, even if he thinks he did everything right by traveling. (Remarkable. . .yes, in the sense that I have many remarks of it). Colin drinks even though he clearly hates it, gets migraines, hangovers, grimaces at the taste, because he is looking for ESCAPE

+But Colin cannot escape. Even on a different continent, even having run, there is no where to go. His escape is not from the ton, and not even necessarily from reality, but from his own insecurities. From what he feels are his inadequacies. Good Men are married, but in Colin's mind, he abandoned Marina. Good Men take care of their family, and Colin left his. Good Men are educated, and Colin is tripping on shrooms in the middle of Cyprus, looking at the stars, wondering what he's meant to do with himself. Colin's desires to escape are deeply rooted, but Colin doesn't want to escape a PLACE. He's done that for a long time. No, Colin wants to escape a PERSON. Himself. The himself he knows himself as

+So, instead, it's easier to be someone else. Himself is messy and sensitive and needs to rehearse what he says. Himself doesn't ever say the right thing (doesn't know how) and is boring to everyone else, besides. Himself is too painful, so it's easier to be Charming Colin. Helpful Colin. Colin taking down a scheme. Colin providing for others. Because he does not matter in it. They do.

+But he DOES. Season 3 sees Colin masquerading. Successfully, of course, but nonetheless. He's half settled into himself and half settled into the persona. When Penelope gives him the cold shoulder with no explanation? Persona. When Eloise avoids him? Persona. When Fran is getting trussed up like a calf for auction on the marriage mart? Persona. Colin spends so much of his life trying to be someone else

+And then he finds out Penelope is Whistledown, and the betrayal of it rips all his talent from him. He can no longer be Happy Colin, Smiling Colin, Here, I'll Help Colin- no, now he is just angry. Sad. Upset. Hurt. Conflicted. He can only be COLIN, and he does not want her to see. Does not want her to reveal it to everyone else, that the man they saw was a sham, that deep down, he is still that boy, that boy Marina said he was, that boy chasing dreams and fantasies, that boy curled up in the cupboard, sobbing about losing his dad, that empty, hollow boy, able to offer up nothing but charm

+But they will see. She will see. And he will see, too. Just who Colin really is. Just who he can be. And just how full and rich and wonderful the reality really is, mess and all

#colin bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #bridgerton season 3 #eloise bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #violet bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #if you want it done you gotta do it yourself i guess #[cue mom voice]#no one helps me in this house #anyway hi yes it's me your resident colin fan feral for more of his content #i would say the water's just fine but girl we are STRUGGLING out here #penelope is his mess but he's ours and i love all of it

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foxy-eva · 2 years

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Handle with Care

Summary: Spencer tries to be there for his wife after a traumatic experience

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Please read the CW, this story contains potentially triggering topics! Content Warnings: (16+ for heavy themes) implied/referenced SA (non-graphic), mentions of hospitals, medication and medical exams, description of minor injuries (bruises), behavior responding to trauma, issues with self-worth/self-hatred, crying, food mentions

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

There was a truth I had to learn as a young boy and couldn't shake until I met my wife – Love always brings pain with it.

My wife was the first person to show me a love that didn't come with the risk of getting hurt. She had the ability to reset my view on what it should feel like to love and be loved.

However, when I got a call from the hospital earlier today, I was reminded that I had been right all along.

Love and pain really are inseparable.

When I walked into the examination room I found my wife staring out of the window, not even acknowledging my presence.

"Hey," I whispered.

She turned her head to look at me and I forgot how to breathe for several moments. Seeing my loved ones hurting has always been so much more painful for me than any atrocities I have had to endure myself.

After years of profiling victims there was no need for anyone to tell me what had happened to her, I knew immediately. Without wanting to, I scanned her body language and counted several nicks and bruises on her skin. Her sight fell to her lap and I noticed her eyes tracing the pattern on the hospital gown.

I slowly stepped closer. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Do you know if they are done with everything yet?"

"They took my clothes," she muttered without looking up at me, "for evidence."

"I know, love. They have to do that. I stopped at home on my way here to get you something to change into."

A knock on the door caught her attention. A nurse stepped in to hand my wife several bottles with pills, explaining to her what they were and how to take them. It was obvious that she wasn't able to listen but that was okay. I was here now. I could tell her later.

The nurse let us know that we could go home and left the room. My wife's eyes found mine, the desperation in her look letting my heart shatter. A single tear ran down her cheek while she whispered, "I don't know what to do now."

I stepped closer to her and reached out my hands but stopped myself before I could touch her. Taking a deep breath, I reached into my bag and placed her clothes right beside where she was sitting on the hospital bed.

I tried my best to sound soothing when I said, "First, you will put on clothes. Then we'll walk out of here and drive home. And then we'll take it from there. One step at a time."

She nodded and looked at her clothes, hesitating to take off her hospital gown.

"Do you need help, love?" I offered.

Her sight fell to the floor right before she mumbled, "Could you wait outside?"

Over the years I had memorized every curve and dip of her body, her skin feeling more familiar to me than my own. I saw her bare form almost every day, be it while brushing my teeth while she showered or when we were lost in each other's arms. She had never even thought twice about shedding her clothes in front of me.

Until this day.

"Yes, of course."

I closed the door behind me when I walked out of the room and waited for her to get ready. When she came out, she intuitively reached for my hand, my heart skipping a beat at the unexpected contact. She didn't let go of me until we reached my car.

We were both silent on the way home. She seemed too exhausted to talk and I was stuck with my attempt to find the right words to say. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had failed her, that I could and should have protected her from the cruelties of this world.

What was the point of saving all those people every day when I couldn't even keep the love of my life safe?

The sound of her sighing pulled me away from my thoughts. I averted the sight from the road to look at her for a moment.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more careful," she stuttered.

My lips parted but nothing came out. I focussed back on the road for a moment until I found a space to pull over. I turned my body to be able to face her but she avoided looking at me.

"Listen to me. None of this is your fault. You didn't do anything to provoke this," I explained.

We locked eyes then and I noticed hers glistening with tears. "But I still should have–"

"No!" That came out louder than I had intended. I tried to contain my anger when I told her, "This is his fault, not yours."

And I will do everything in my power that he won't lay a hand on you ever again, I thought.

She looked like she wanted to protest my statement but decided to not voice her thoughts. "I just want to go home," she said instead.

We continued the drive in silence and I attempted to swallow down the boiling anger in my chest. Letting her see my disdain for the man who hurt her was certainly not what she needed right now.

When we stepped into our apartment, she halted in the hallway as if she couldn't remember her usual steps of entering our home. I suggested that she could take a bath and she nodded, following me to the bathroom and watching each of my movements as I prepared the bathtub for her.

"I'll give you some privacy. Just let me know when you need me."

My wife nodded once more and stared at the door until I had left the room. I lingered on the other side for a while, listening to the sound of her getting into the tub and turning off the water. When I was sure that she wouldn't call out my name anytime soon, I distracted myself by ordering food and tidying up a bit.

Forty minutes passed without a sound coming from the bathroom. I stood in front of the door and timidly knocked against the wood.

"Is everything okay?" I wanted to know.

Almost inaudibly I heard her voice a broken "No."

It was the obvious answer. Of course she wasn't okay.

"What can I do?"

Silence.

I contemplated just entering the room but then I heard her pleading, "Can you come in?"

I found her cowering in the tub, her arms wrapped around her knees as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. She didn't look at me when she whimpered, "I can't wash it off."

I stepped closer to her and crouched down beside the bathtub. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand," I confessed.

Her red rimmed eyes found mine and I saw something in her look I had only seen on rare occasions before.

Rage.

"I can't wash him off," she shouted.

"You're safe here. He can't hurt you anymore," I tried to remind her.

It didn't work.

Her whole body started shaking, broken sobs wrecking through her as she hid her face in her hands. The sound of her suffering went directly into my body and made me feel as if her pain would etch into my bones.

"Can I touch you?"

She didn't respond. She couldn't respond. I placed my palm on her shoulder, squeezing it gently in an attempt to bring her back to me. I knew that my words couldn't reach her but I tried it anyway.

"I'm so sorry this happened. I wish I could have protected you."

After a while her whimpers simmered down until she was silent. Not even her breathing was audible, making me question the amount of oxygen currently entering her body.

I tried to reassure her further, "I am here now."

When she nodded, implicitly telling me that she could hear me, I reached for her arms and helped her out of the tub. Wrapping her in a towel, I placed my arms around her still quivering body and held her tightly against my chest. She nestled her face into the fabric of my shirt and I felt her breathing slowly even out.

Time became abstract while we stood in our shared embrace. It was impossible to tell whether minutes or hours had passed when she started moving again. She silently followed her usual routine after taking baths, putting on new clothes and brushing her hair. I lingered in her presence and followed her into the living room when she was done.

"I ordered pizza when you were in the bathroom. Can I get you some?"

My wife whispered, “No,” and sat down on the couch. I found my place beside her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offered.

She shook her head and asked, "How was work?"

I raised my eyebrows as I looked at her. "Do you really want me to talk about work?"

"Yes," she breathed and added, "Please."

I thought about what I could tell her about my day that wouldn't be too unsettling. "JJ accidently bumped into Morgan who then spilled his coffee all over my geological profile."

To my surprise she started giggling, the sound immediately warming my heart. A grin appeared on my face. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she snickered. "I just imagined the squeaking sound you probably made when that happened."

"Hey! I don't make squeaking sounds!" I laughed in protest.

She smirked at me and moved closer until hardly any distance could be found between our thighs. Without a warning, her hand made contact with the side of my torso, pinching my skin just enough to evoke the noise she had just mentioned.

I threw my hands in the air, implicitly pleading for her to stop. "Okay, okay! I'll take it back!"

She let go of me and curled her body into my side instead. I felt the tensions leave her as she felt almost limp against me. The exhaustion after an adrenaline rush was familiar to me and I knew very well that it can feel like no amount of sleep would ever be enough to feel alright again.

I suggested it anyway.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

Her humming sounded like agreement, so I moved with her and guided her to our bed. After placing the comforter over her body, I leaned down to kiss her but stopped in my tracks when I noticed her flinching away from me.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay."

But the truth was that nothing about this was okay.

When I stepped back into the bedroom after getting ready for the night, she had already turned off the lamp on her nightstand. Usually I would hold her inside my arms until she'd fall asleep but everything about her body language told me not to touch her.

"Good night. I love you."

I didn't get a response.

My wife got cold easily at night and I had always seen it as my responsibility to keep her warm. It was something so deeply embedded into my subconscious that there was no need for me to fully wake up to reach out for her when my body noticed the absence of her skin against mine.

It took a second too long for any drowsiness to leave me and realize that I had wrapped my arms around my wife's sleeping body, just like I did most nights. It was her screaming that fully woke me and I let go of her once I noticed her struggling. She basically jumped out of bed.

Despite the lack of light in the room, I could clearly make out the horror in her look. She was scared. She was terrified.

Terrified of me.

I got up and stepped closer to her but still kept my distance. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She stepped backwards until her shoulders met the closest wall. "Don't…" she whimpered.

She didn't need to speak the words for me to hear them nonetheless.

Don't come closer. Don't touch me. Stay back.

I didn't dare to move when I asked, "What can I do?"

"Just… give me some space," she sobbed. "Please."

I stood there in silence for a few moments, contemplating what to do next. Before I could think of anything, she said, "I'll sleep on the couch."

"No." I protested. "I'll go."

She didn't seem to have enough energy to argue with that, instead laying down on her side of the bed once more. I left the door to the bedroom open ajar to be able to hear her from my place on the couch.

Rest didn't come easy to me for the rest of the night but I somehow managed to fall asleep eventually. The sensation of my blanket being lifted woke me in the early morning hours. My wife lay down beside me on the couch, finding her home inside my embrace. She pressed her body against mine and buried her face into the crook of my neck.

I let my fingertips draw circles into her back, carefully following the same patterns like countless times before. Her breath was quivering against my skin as she attempted to find comfort in my arms.

"Sorry I pushed you away," she mumbled against my neck and added, "I love you."

"You don't have to apologize. You were scared, it's understandable." I placed a chaste kiss into her hair. "I love you more."

I felt her smile against my skin before she pressed herself into me even more. With my arms tightly wrapped around her body I secured her position inside my embrace.

The morning sun started illuminating the room but we kept lingering in this position for a few more hours. I would hold her like that for the rest of my life if she needed me to. I wasn't sure whether she had actually fallen back asleep or just silently tried to relax but I was content to have her close to me either way.

I took time off work for the next few days, trying to be there for my wife at least until she felt ready to go back to work herself. There was a newfound routine we followed, from going on long walks and cooking together to me holding her when she cried and keeping her company when she couldn’t sleep.

A couple of days after she had gotten hurt, I was waiting for her to get ready to go on a walk. When she took twice the time she usually needed to get dressed, I cautiously entered the bedroom to look for her. I found her standing in front of the mirror in just her underwear, her brows furrowed as she let her eyes wander over her body. It was the first time I had noticed her actually looking at herself in the mirror.

As I stepped closer, she looked up and locked eyes with me through my reflection. Not even a second passed and she continued the examination of her skin, her fingertips tracing over the spots she focussed at with her eyes. It took me a moment to realize that she was staring at the bruises on her skin.

There weren’t that many of them but it was still impossible to not notice her injuries. Over the course of the past few days I had noticed how the bruises had gotten darker in color, a reddish blue turning into a deep purple that almost appeared black in the dim lighting of the bedroom.

“Are you in pain?” I wanted to know.

When her eyes found mine once more, they were glistening with tears.

“No matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of him.” Her voice broke at the last syllable and I noticed how her bottom lip started trembling.

Her knees gave up on her, having me reach for her to hinder her from falling. I gently guided her to the bed instead, helping her sit down on the mattress. Tears were streaming down her face and I cupped her cheeks to wipe them away.

She couldn’t look at me when she sobbed, “It feels like my body is rotting everywhere he touched me.”

“That’s not true. Those bruises will hea–”

“I’m tainted, Spencer!” She interrupted my desperate attempt to soothe her.

Before I could disagree, she got up from her place beside me and turned her back to me. “Don’t you think I can’t see the disgust in your eyes when you look at my body?”

The shock her words evoked rushed through me like lightning. I got up and tried to get her to look at me. It didn’t work.

“That’s not how it is. That’s not what I think,” I tried to explain.

We locked eyes and she seemed to genuinely wonder, “What is it then?”

“When I look at you, I get angry at the man who hurt you but even more than that, I am disappointed in myself for not being able to protect you.” I stepped closer to her until our bodies almost made contact. “Can I touch you?”

She nodded.

I let my fingertips tenderly dance over a bruise on her arm while I cooed, “When I see his markings on you, I fantasize about having the ability to erase them with the touch of my hand. I imagine touching you everywhere he did, to rid you of the memory of him and replace it with the sensation of my skin against yours.”

My hand wandered upwards and over her shoulder. “I wish I could take it away, all this pain. I wish I could leave sparks everywhere my fingertips make contact with your skin, making it shine brighter than all of this darkness.”

She stared at me with widened eyes and tears still streaming down her face. I leaned down to kiss her cheek, the salty taste meeting my lips. “And when I taste your tears, I imagine that the ocean left saline crystals on your skin after having washed away your sorrow.”

A shy smile appeared on her face when she heard my words. And for the first time since all of this had happened I felt hopeful about one thing.

We would be okay.

Eventually.

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mirrortouchedsea · 4 months

Text

She’s 6 years old, crowded around her mother with her sister. Their newest sibling has just been born and they’re both curious about the baby. What gender is it, one asks. What’s it’s name, she says. There’s a lot of chatter and her head is ringing as their mother finally speaks. It’s a boy, the first boy born to their family in several generations, and his existence must be kept a secret, she says, but we will name him Kohaku.

Kohaku Oukawa is born in a room full of life, with two older sisters taking turns holding him and letting him grab at their fingers, cooing over his features as their mother rests. The midwife is cleaning up from the afterbirth and the men are conversing in the corner, but for the second eldest daughter, she feels a special connection with the little boy in her arms. He has the same bright pink hair as her and she’d swear that they both had their mother’s eyes. She bounces him in her arms and for a moment, the entire world is just him in her arms.

The years go by and it's hard not to remark on the similarities between her and her brother. Kohaku is a spitting image of her to the point that it’s almost uncanny. As soon as Kohaku could walk, she had been told that she would begin training as his body double. It was obvious that despite being 6 years older than the toddler, they were remarkably similar in every way, down to the way they spoke and picked at their fingers. She was to be his protector, taking his place should the Suou family discover him.

By the time she was 14 and he was 8, the two of them had become practically inseparable. Despite his isolation, she would always find a way to sneak in toys and books for him and spend time playing with him. They trained together of course, she was often his sparring partner as well, but the moments where he’s alone in the room and she’s picked the lock again and they’re laughing at something stupid in a magazine were her favorite moments. It was important for him, too, to have some sort of connection to the outside world like that.

Despite the large age gap, the two almost always got along. She had more life experience and helped Kohaku with his homework and reading. He always had a listening ear to her problems, though he didn’t understand the plight of being a teenage girl, he could at least offer his presence. Both of them constantly fought with their parents about Kohaku’s isolation as well. She knew that it was for his safety, but he deserved to make some friends. She had even gone out of her way to disguise herself as him like she was taught and talk with the young head of the Suou family and see if he would be a suitable friend for the youngest Oukawa. Soon after, she began to stay in the room for Kohaku as he went out to play with the young Suou boy, talking about eating bugs like kids their age should be.

He tells her about his time with the young Suou when he comes back, talking about how stupid the other boy is, how arrogant, but always with an air of friendly teasing to his remarks. She thinks that it’s great how the two of them have gotten along so well and she’s already planning for when she can cover for him again the next week.

Despite being their youngest sibling, her other sister doesn't spend nearly as much time with him as she does. They’d taken turns babysitting him when the family was out, especially before he could walk and eat solid foods, but as he grew older that time with him decreased. As she is his body double, she spends more time with him than just about anyone else, and her sister has a lot to ask her about. How’s he doing, is he learning his kanji okay, how does he spend his free time locked up like that. She answers them as best as she can, but she knows some things are better left in the dark.

The one day they do all get to spend time with Kohaku is on his birthday. Those chilly February days are always filled with laughter and celebration as everyone catches up with each other and Kohaku gets to see more of his sisters. They always tease him and poke at him, but never too much, just enough to make him flustered. How were his studies going, they’d ask. Why you’re getting so big, the eldest exclaimed, picking him up and squeezing him. He would blush and stutter out a response, which only led to more teasing from the sisters.

The second eldest took part in this too, though to a lesser extent, as she got her fill during the rest of the year. She’d tease him about his clothes getting too small or being too big for him to fill out properly, how he still couldn’t quite beat her in a fight despite all of his blustering that he could. He was six years younger than her, it was to be expected that at least for a while he would be weaker than she was by default after all.

On his thirteenth birthday, when she was nineteen, he finally managed to flip her onto the ground. She told him it was only because he had taken her by surprise, but he held it over her head for the rest of the day and for once, the brunt of the teasing was on her. At the end of the party, she returned the favor and flipped Kohaku clean over her shoulder onto the floor and stuck her tongue out cheekily at him.

That year was also the year she snuck him his first electronic device. It wouldn’t be easy to hide a laptop at all, and a phone would be noticed if it was on their plan suddenly and without explanation, so she gave him a tablet instead. Big enough for him to type easily with his fingers and see text clearly, small enough to stuff under a pillow quickly if someone walked in on him with it out. She set up an email and some social media accounts under fake names and aliases for him, as well as some parental controls just to make sure he didn’t spend too much time on it and neglect his studies. Even he deserved to have some connection to the outside world besides through the young head of the Suou family.

After a few months she began to hear about a new friend he had met through Twitter, someone who went by the name of LoveSwan, or simply Love for short. Kohaku seemed completely enamored with his newfound friend and talked extensively about the other boy and how they just seemed to… click. She was just happy he was able to find someone else to talk to besides his family.

Kohaku was also quickly approaching her height, and might even grow to be taller than her, though there were still a few centimeters between them. It really was like looking into a mirror, looking at him. His youthfulness and his innocence (or what innocence he could have in a family like theirs) reflecting her own childhood that had, in a sense, been taken from her. She wasn’t jealous by any means of her brother, who had his own hardships, having been locked up for his entire adolescence, but she was almost jealous of how he hadn’t quite lost his childhood spark. He was beginning to go through his rebellious phase, especially as the young master of the Suou family had begun talking about joining a high school for idols next year.

He wanted to be free, to see the outside world and walk around without fear of the Suou family hurting him. She told him she would talk with their family, though it wasn’t guaranteed to happen right away, as he was still two years away from being high school aged and able to enroll in any sort of academy. She ruffled his hair and put him in a headlock, laughing as he tried to escape, one last little moment before she left.

It was almost a year before she saw Kohaku again. She had been sent out on a mission halfway across the country that took longer than expected, but it would be worth it if her parents held up their end of the bargain. She peeled her bloodstained gloves from her hands and tossed them in the fire. There would be no trace of her involvement if she could help it, but the deed had been done.

And she could finally see her brother again soon, hopefully with good news. She would never tell him what she had agreed to do in order to secure his freedom, but she would never regret it either.

When she returned she prostrated herself before her parents, asking that they uphold their end of the deal and allow Kohaku to be free when he turned 15. It would still be another year before he gained his freedom, but he would be able to enroll in a high school and follow in the young master Suou’s footsteps as an idol. He had his whole life ahead of him in the light and she wanted him to be able to embrace it however he saw fit.

As she sat, forehead on the ground before her parents, they commended her efforts in the last mission and agreed that Kohaku would be able to leave the confines of their home. While his existence was still messy and complicated, it would be more difficult for the Suou family to eliminate him if he had a life on the outside. She agreed, sitting upright and smiling wide, excited to tell her brother the good news. Just one more year in purgatory and he would finally be able to leave and begin his life.

For the next year, she began preparing Kohaku for his entry into the real world, bringing in more magazines and books and telling him about the different types of people that were out there and how to protect himself from bad actors. She was almost certainly being overbearing, but she wanted her brother to be as ready as possible for the real world, a place she had been free to roam since she was a child.

Kohaku was 15, ready to leave and she was 21 with tears in her eyes as they stood at the train station. The young master Suou had accompanied them and said he would make sure Kohaku would at least make it to the place he called Ensemble Square, and Kohaku agreed to be on his best behavior and not cause trouble. She gave him one last hug and ruffle of his hair before the two of them stepped on the train and pulled away from the station.

She kept an eye on the news about Ensemble Square and eventually saw that her brother had joined a unit called Crazy:B, although their reputation seemed to be low among the public given how they had relentlessly attacked other units. She sighed and wondered what exactly had happened in the few months since Kohaku had left home that had already gotten him in trouble like this, but even she couldn’t help but notice that most of the news coverage of Crazy:B focused on their leader, one Amagi Rinne. Though she didn’t know much about him, he seemed to be shielding the other members from the spotlight. What articles that did focus on the other members scarcely seemed to mention Kohaku at all, instead focusing on the one known as HiMERU who also seemed to take a slightly more active role in their activities.

It was only five months after their debut that Kohaku called her, asking if she’d be willing to help him out. He needed to visit the member of his other unit in another part of Japan, but the rules of the competition prevented him from traveling openly and he needed someone to step in. She agreed, of course, wanting to take this as an opportunity to make sure his unitmates in Crazy:B were treating him well. She would need to disguise herself as him for at least a few days and participate in idol activities with them, and while she hadn’t been trained to sing and dance, it wasn’t anything she couldn’t learn with a little bit of practice. He even told her that Rinne was on board with the whole thing and was excited to meet her.

When she landed at the airport, she was greeted by three men that had been vaguely described by Kohaku but matched the rough image she had of them from photos and videos of their performances. She was picked up in a bear hug by the one called Rinne, whom she threw to the ground in a show of strength. Rinne just laughed it off and commented on how she really was Kohaku’s sister. The other two men were much more respectful of her, greeting her with a wave and offering her some food after her flight. She smiled and accepted the snack.

The next few days, the three other members of Crazy:B had already made an impact on her. The way they talked about Kohaku told her that he trusted them with parts of himself that he often kept hidden from even some of their family members, and the four of them had shared many memories together. She was almost… jealous of the way that Kohaku had so easily made friends with these people and how they seemed ready to do anything for him, though they were easy to get along with and she had begun to tease them as well, she had to maintain her distance from them despite the nicknames and jokes.

Even when Kohaku had returned and she was ready to step back and return to her duties as a member of the Oukawa family, after the Sudden Death match, Kohaku and Crazy:B still offered to take her out for one last hurrah to celebrate their accomplishments. She tried to decline, but was quickly dragged along by Niki to the restaurant they had picked out. The five of them ate and laughed well into the night and by the end of it she didn’t want to leave even though she had to. The warmth that radiated from Crazy:B was something she didn’t want to let go of quite yet.

The four members of Crazy:B had tired themselves out when she finally slipped away, a sad smile on her face as she took one last look at the light of the restaurant. She would miss these men she had only known for a few days, but at least she knew her brother was in good hands, and that she could rest easier knowing he was safe with them.

#shay writes #ensemble stars #enstars #kohaku oukawa #how. do i tag kohaku sister #she's the pov character #sakura-nee #?????#i'll tag her as that from now on ig but she really doesnt have a name. which is tragic #i've had this in the works since sudden death came out and i'm so obsessed with sakura-nee #i want her to come back please happyele i'm on my hands and knees #editing to add that the tense shifts are intentional. dont ask they just ARE

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goodmorning-rigoberto · 3 months

Text

> Of best friends and first loves.

asakikuweek day 4: gakuen/school au.

@asakikuweek2024

There was that look again.

Invisible to anyone who didn't pay enough attention to his surroundings. Invisible and ephemeral to the eyes of anyone except his own; cause Feliciano knew Kiku like the back of his hand and he had noticed some changes in his person even before the japanese himself.

They were both best and inseparable friends since kindergarten, so, for the brunette, it was natural to notice even the smallest details about his very special very loved friend, especially when this "detail" wasn't minimal at all and spoke volumes to him directly from the another's heart.

That's right, Kiku Honda, his best friend was in love.

His first love!

Feliciano could not contain his emotion.

It all happened on an October day, one of those where the sky is gray and the wind blows strongly bringing with it the change of season, where what the italian wanted the most in this world was to stay at home, warm, and help his mother in the kitchen.

"I hope it doesn't rain, I hope it doesn't rain! Kiku, what are we going to do if it rains?"

"I have an umbrella with me" responded with that calmness always so contrary to his own lively personality. In the eyes of the world the pair of friends were like water and oil, but that difference was exactly what made things work between them.

"And will it be enough for everyone? What about Ludwig? He is very macho, have you seen the size of his arms lately? Maybe I should join the gym too!"

A soft laughter coming from the other was what he got in response. Daily mission accomplished, make his friends laugh.

"I'm sure Ludwig will bring an umbrella with him, so you and I can share mine."

"It's decided then! Anyway I hope it doesn't rain, I didn't bring another sweater because none of them went well with the uniform, I have to start looking for my winter clothes cause i don't want to get sick, if I get sick Lovino will go crazy and start yelling at me. You know how he is "I don't want your germs in the--- huh?"

Interrupting what almost seemed like a monologue of his daily life to follow with his gaze the point that his companion was observing so attentively, curious, because Kiku was not one of those who just stared at others for fear of being rude. His eyes took him straight to an elegant black car, one that every student knew very well and from which was descending the owner of said car; his royal highness, heir to the crown and all the jewels of the British family and president of the student council Arthur Kirkland.

Why was Kiku watching Arthur so attentive? Why did his eyes shine brighter than usual and his breathing seemed almost contained in a...? Oh...

Oh!

That was it! That must be it! But really? Was it?

Without wanting to possibly embarrass by asking out of nowhere or maybe confuse him if that was not the case he decided to be prudent and gather more information on his own.

The school bell, always his ally, ringing and bringing the black-haired boy out of his stupor. Maybe it hadn't been such a bad idea to attend class that day.

-. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -.

His suspicions were confirmed that afternoon. The day had passed normally the classes were boring as always and at lunch time Lud had joined the duo. A copious rain was now falling from the still gray sky, tapping on the windows of the school's newspaper club in which the three and only members worked in silence. Comforted by the company and the atmosphere that only rainy days could bring with them.

A couple of knocks on the door broke that idyllic moment, surprising those present and stealing their concentration.

"Kirkland, is something wrong?" the taller blonde asked after opening the door and finding the student president behind it.

"Nothing to worry about, Ludwig, I'm just carrying out an inspection, rutine. Yes! That's it, you know, I have to make sure the school clubs are working perfectly" he explained with that diplomacy in which there was no doubt about his actions.

Not wanting to go against student council's activities or rules the blonde german stepped aside to allow the other to enter. Arthur, for his part, dedicated himself to observing the place for a few minutes and then ask Kiku some questions (to him and only him and not a single about the newspaper) under the watchful eye of Feliciano who now not only confirmed his suspicions but was also sure of the feelings forming inside his best friend; They were mutual and reciprocated if the shy smiles and nervous stance could indicate something. Yeah, that was it.

Arthur Kirkland liked Kiku Honda.

Kiku Honda liked Arthur Kirkland.

And Feliciano didn't know what to do with that information.

Should he do something? Should he try to get them a little closer? Should he just pretend to be an idiot more often and gain Arthur's attention to direct it toward Kiku?

He was in a predicament.

-. -. -. -. -. -. -. -. -.

"Maybe you shouldn't do anything" Ludwig replied on the way home as they both shared their umbrella. Not wanting to waste any more time, Feliciano had seen Kiku off at the school gate after telling him that he had forgotten he was going to visit Gilbert, Ludwig's older brother, to pick up some video games he lent him. Kiku had piano lessons so couldn't accompany them. Which was perfect since the italian wanted to tell the german the good news.

"You think so? But Ludo, we both know very well how Kiku is like. At this rate they're going to end up getting married until we're eighty years old. I know I'll be a very handsome old man, because my grandpa Roma is, but I don't want to attend the wedding of my best friend being soooo old"

"And how do you know they're going to get married?" added the other, blushing. These topics were definitely not his best.

"I just know. I have seen it"

Ludwig would never understand Feliciano's blind trust in his "fortune-telling skills".

"What about you? Will you be married... at eighty?"

"That's why we shouldn't wait so long for these two to take the first step, it's at Kiku's wedding where maybe I can find the love of my life. This is a matter of life or death! Ah! My Kiku is in love, they grow up so fast"

Clearing his throat the German continued.

"Anyway I don't think it's our place to get involved in their business, it's not right. This is something the both of them should figure out on their own"

"Maybe you're right, you're always right" spirits plummet in a second.

"C-Cheer up, Feli" turning his face to prevent the other from seeing the blush that covered his cheeks "I promise to accompany you to Kiku and Arthur's wedding... if at eighty you have no one to go with?"

"Eh!? Really?"

"Really"

Renewed spirits.

Ah, nothing compared to the emotion he felt in those moments for his best friend. Kiku deserved everything beautiful, perfect and precious in that world and Feli was sure that one day life would give it to him.

#asakikuweek2024 #asakiku #hws england #hws japan #now with a sparkle of gerita here and there cause they are also very cute #feli no.1 asakiku enjoyer confirmed #HE IS SO HAPPY FOR HIM #BFFS LOVELY BFFS #hope you like it <3

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thatlittlered · 2 years

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Let Me Come With You | Stephen Strange

Summary: There are approximately ten versions of this earth that Stephen knows you exist in.

"I know that each one of us travels to love alone, alone to faith and to death. I know it. I’ve tried it. It doesn’t help. Let me come with you." Moonlight Sonata - Yiannis Ritsos

There are approximately ten versions of this earth that Stephen knows you exist in.

In three of those you’re strangers, divided by time and consequence. He changed but not enough and you stayed longer than you should but a particular delusional alien and his plans were quite the wake up call. There was no time to be spent in pain.

There are a couple more he doesn’t think about, not by choice at least.

Bad things happen there.

In 1376 and 1838 you’re married to a smiley brunette who makes you laugh. He remains nameless in Stephen’s head on behalf of stealing a life from him.

He is simple, uncomplicated; everything you wanted. You worked together, fell in love, had a darling little blue-eyed boy like the fantasy you’d shared with Stephen late one night. Only this boy got his eyes from your side, an unlikely event, but like you once told him “Blue runs in my family too.”

You always walk at the brunette’s left, little Odie between you, holding both of your hands.

These ones he thinks about often.

There is one single reality in which you are together, inseparable and happy without a worry in the world. He has retired from his duties, all is marvelously at peace and all he need do is observe.

It is simple and uncomplicated.

Your little boy has his eyes, it cannot be mistaken. You say ‘I love you’ at breakfast and over an evening cup of tea, make up for the rest of it in casual affection. You always walk at his right, as you would in every universe you’ve known each other, and little Dominic likes to hold your hands and swing.

This, of course, is not his reality.

A/N: This was written right after watching MoM a while ago, but it's also the first fic I've written in over a year so I was doubtful about publishing. Regardless, enjoy!

#doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #marvel multiverse #doctor strange x you #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x ofc #stephen strange #marvel #fanfiction #multiverse of madness

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thelustybraavosimaid · 1 year

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Relationships of Ice and Fire: Incest and Inseparability

JAEHAERYS AND ALYSANNE:

Morever, Alysanne was only two years younger than her brother, and the two children had always been close and strong in their affection and regard for one another.

...

“As you command, Mother.” King Jaehaerys pulled his sister closer and put his arm around her. “But do not think that you shall unmake this marriage. We are one now, and neither gods nor men shall part us.”

“Never,” his bride affirmed. “Send me to the ends of the earth and wed me to the King of Mossovy or the Lord of the Grey Waste, Silverwing will always bring me back to Jaehaerys.” And with that she raised herself onto her toes and lifted her face to the king, and he kissed her full upon the lips whilst all looked on. (The Year of the Three Brides—49 AC, Fire and Blood)

BAELON AND ALYSSA:

The likeness faded as the princess grew older, however; long-faced and skinny, Alyssa had little of her sister’s beauty. Her hair was a dirty blond tangle with no hint of silver to evoke the dragonlords of old, and she had been born with mismatched eyes, one violet, the other a startling green. Her ears were too big and her smile lopsided, and when she was six playing in the yard a whack across the face from a wooden sword broke her nose. It healed crooked, but Alyssa did not seem to care. By that age, her mother had come to realize that it was not Daenerys that she took after, but Baelon. Just as Baelon had once followed Aemon everywhere, Alyssa trailed after Baelon. “Like a puppy,” the Spring Prince complained. Baelon was two years younger than Aemon, Alyssa nearly four years younger than him…

...

There had been some thought, after the tragic death of Princess Daenerys, that Aemon should wed Princess Alyssa, the eldest of his remaining sisters, but Queen Alysanne firmly put the thought aside. “Alyssa is for Baelon,” she declared. “She has been following him around since she could walk. They are as close as you and I were at their age.”

...

Their older siblings Baelon and Alyssa had become inseparable, and plans were already being made for them to wed.

...

Prince Baelon had not ceased smiling since his marriage. When not aloft, Baelon and Alyssa spent every hour together, most oft in their bedchamber. (The Long Reign—Jaehaerys and Alysanne: Policy, Progeny, and Pain, Fire and Blood)

AEMON AND JOCELYN:

Prince Aemon was seven years of age, a boy as tall and handsome as he was modest. He still trained every morning in the yard with Prince Baelon; the two brothers were fast friends, and evenly matched. Aemon was taller and stronger, Baelon quicker and fiercer. Their contests were so spirited that they oft drew crowds of onlookers. Serving men and washerwomen, household knights and squires, maesters and septons and stableboys, they would gather in the yard to cheer on one prince or the other. One of those who came to watch was Jocelyn Baratheon, the late Queen Alyssa’s dark-haired daughter, who grew taller and more beautiful with every passing day. At the feast that followed Aemon’s investiture as Prince of Dragonstone, the queen sat Lady Jocelyn next to him, and the two young people were observed talking and laughing together through the evening, to the exclusion of all others. (The Long Reign—Jaehaerys and Alysanne: Policy, Progeny, and Pain, Fire and Blood)

BRYNDEN RIVERS AND SHIERA SEASTAR:

Bittersteel and Bloodraven both loved Shiera Seastar, and the Seven Kingdoms bled. (The Kingbreaker, ADwD)

[Serenei] died giving birth to the last of the king's bastard children, a girl called Shiera Seastar who became the greatest beauty in the Seven Kingdoms, beloved of both her half brothers, Bittersteel and Bloodraven, whose rivalry would ripen to hatred. (The Nine Mistresses of Aegon IV, the Unworthy, The World of Ice and Fire)

"He heard a whisper on the wind, a rustling amongst the leaves. You cannot speak to him, try as you might. I know. I have my own ghosts, Bran. A brother that I loved, a brother that I hated, a woman I desired. Through the trees, I see them still, but no word of mine has ever reached them. The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it." (Bran III, ADwD)

Though she never wed, she had many offers, and several lovers through the years. Duels were fought over the right to sit beside her, men killed themselves after falling from her favor, poets outdid each other writing songs about her beauty. Her most ardent admirer was her half-brother, Bloodraven, who proposed marriage to her half a hundred times. Shiera gave him her bed, but never her hand. It amused her more to make him jealous.

[Source]

DAEMON BLACKFYRE AND DAENERYS:

Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied her. (The Kingbreaker, ADwD)

"Cool breezes, sparkling water, and the laughter of children. The Water Gardens are my favorite place in this world, ser. One of my ancestors had them built to please his Targaryen bride and free her from the dust and heat of Sunspear. Daenerys was her name. She was sister to King Daeron the Good, and it was her marriage that made Dorne part of the Seven Kingdoms. The whole realm knew that the girl loved Daeron's bastard brother Daemon Blackfyre, and was loved by him in turn, but the king was wise enough to see that the good of thousands must come before the desires of two, even if those two were dear to him." (The Watcher, ADwD)

Could you tell us something of what happened in the relationship between the first Daenerys, Daemon Blackfyre, and the prince of Dorne? Despite Daemon and Daenerys being in love, her brother the king, Daeron the Good, was more concerned with matters of state than matters of love. There had been many years of fighting with Dorne, and failure to bring them into the Seven Kingdoms while not being able to keep them from harassing the Seven Kingdoms. So he realized that where violence failed, perhaps marriage could bring an end to hostilites and so he uses his sister to make an alliance with the prince of Dorne. It's a political marriage, pure and simple, a convenient marriage to guarantee a union between Dorne and the Seven Kingdoms. And also, he prefers to give his sister to the prince of Dorne over a bastard bother with whom he'd already had a few clashes and whom too many people were looking one as a legitimate claimant to the throne or rightful king. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, and helps lead to Daemon becoming the first Blackfyre Pretender.

[Source]

It has been said in the years after Daemon Blackfyre proved a traitor that his hatred of Daeron began to grow early. It was Aegon's desire—not Daemon's—that he be wed to Rohanne of Tyrosh. Instead, Daemon had developed a passion for Daeron's sister, young Princess Daenerys. Only two years younger than Daemon, the princess supposedly loved the bastard prince in turn, if the singers can be believed, but neither Aegon IV nor Daeron II were willing to let such feelings rule in matters of state. (The Targaryen Kings: Daeron II, The World of Ice and Fire)

JAEHAERYS II AND SHAERA:

Though King Aegon had acquired a distaste for the Valyrian custom of incestuous marriage during his years amongst the smallfolk, Prince Jaehaerys was of a more traditional bent, for from a very early age he had loved his sister Shaera and dreamed of wedding her in the old Targaryen fashion. Once aware of his desires, King Aegon and Queen Betha had done their best to separate the two, yet somehow distance only seemed to inflame the mutual passion of this prince and princess.

Prince Jaehaerys was not as forceful as his brother, but when Duncan defied his father to follow his own heart, and the king and court yielded to his desire, the younger prince did not fail to take note. In 240 AC, a year after Prince Duncan's marriage, Prince Jaehaerys and Princess Shaera each eluded their guardians and were secretly married. Jaehaerys was fifteen and Shaera fourteen at the time of their wedding. (The Targaryen Kings: Aegon V, The World of Ice and Fire)

AEMON THE DRAGONKNIGHT AND NAERYS (RUMOURED):

"My father was Maekar, the First of his Name, and my brother Aegon reigned after him in my stead. My grandfather named me for Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, who was his uncle, or his father, depending on which tale you believe. Aemon, he called me…" (Jon VIII, AGoT)

She loved Aemon best of her brothers, for he knew how to make her laugh—and he had something of the same piety that she possessed, while Aegon did not. She loved the Seven as dearly as she loved her brother, if not more so, and might have been a septa if her lord father had allowed it. But he did not, and Viserys instead wed her to his son Aegon in 153 AC, with King Aegon III's blessing. The singers say that Aemon and Naerys both wept during the ceremony, though the histories tell us Aemon quarreled with Aegon at the wedding feast, and that Naerys wept during the bedding rather than the wedding. (The Targaryen Kings: Viserys II, The World of Ice and Fire)

Matters between them were inflamed further by Prince Aemon, their brother, who had been inseparable from Naerys when they were young. Aegon's resentment of his noble, celebrated brother was plain to all, for the king delighted in slighting Aemon and Naerys both at every turn. (The Targaryen Kings: Aegon IV, The World of Ice and Fire)

JAIME AND CERSEI:

He could never bear to be long apart from his twin. Even as children, they would creep into each other's beds and sleep with their arms entwined. Even in the womb. Long before his sister's flowering or the advent of his own manhood, they had seen mares and stallions in the fields and dogs and bitches in the kennels and played at doing the same. Once their mother's maid had caught them at it...he did not recall just what they had been doing, but whatever it was had horrified Lady Joanna. (Jaime III, ASoS)

THE ORIGINAL OUTLINE:

Hounded by Lannister riders, they will seek refuge at the Wall, but the men of the Night's Watch give up their families when they take the black, and Jon and Benjen will not be able to help, to Jon's anguish. It will lead to a bitter estrangement between Jon and Bran. Arya will be more forgiving...until she realizes, with terror, that she has fallen in love with Jon, who is not only her half-brother but a man of the Night's Watch, sworn to celibacy. Their passion will continue to torment Jon and Arya throughout the trilogy, until the secret of Jon's true parentage is finally revealed in the last book. (Original outline, page two)

#asoiaf

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aifanfictions · 7 months

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Write a story about platonic female omega reader protecting Killua and Gon and adopting Killua as her pup. She becomes very protective and nurturing with him and he realizes that’s what a mother is supposed to be.

Omega's Embrace

In a world where strength was everything, (Y/N) was an anomaly. She was an omega, and not just any omega, but one with an unwavering spirit and a fierce determination. Despite societal norms that dictated omegas should be protected, she was the one doing the protecting.

One fateful day, (Y/N) found herself in the company of two remarkable young boys - Killua and Gon. The moment she saw them, her instincts kicked in, and she felt an overwhelming need to shield and nurture them. They were both alphas, and while that might have intimidated some, it only fueled her desire to care for them.

As they embarked on their adventures, (Y/N) became their steadfast guardian, a silent but unwavering presence. She was always there when they needed her, whether it was to provide first aid, offer comforting words, or just be a listening ear. Killua, in particular, caught her attention. He was a remarkable alpha with a traumatic past, and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a maternal instinct toward him.

One evening, as they sat by the campfire, Killua turned to (Y/N), his silver eyes filled with curiosity. "You've done so much for us, (Y/N). Why are you so protective of us?"

(Y/N) smiled gently, her omega instincts guiding her words. "It's in my nature, Killua. I can't help but want to protect those I care about. You and Gon are like my pups, and I'll do anything to keep you safe."

Killua was taken aback by her words. He had never experienced this kind of nurturing care before. His own family had been more concerned with his assassin training than his emotional well-being. But (Y/N) was different. She was the mother he had never had.

Over time, Killua grew to appreciate the comfort and warmth (Y/N) provided. He realized that being a mother wasn't about strength or power; it was about love, care, and protection. He started to see her as the embodiment of what a mother should be, and he cherished the bond they shared.

As they continued their journey, (Y/N), Killua, and Gon became an inseparable team. They faced challenges together, and (Y/N) was always there to support and nurture them. And in the process, Killua discovered that a mother's love could be found in the most unexpected places, even in the heart of a protective omega.

One evening, as the group settled in their camp, (Y/N) found herself sitting by the fire with Killua. He had been quiet all day, lost in his thoughts. Sensing that something was troubling him, (Y/N) decided to break the silence.

"Killua, is something bothering you?" she asked, her warm gaze fixed on him.

Killua hesitated for a moment, but he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself any longer. "I've been thinking about what you said, (Y/N). About how you see us as your pups and how you'd do anything to protect us."

(Y/N) nodded, her expression soft and understanding. "That's right, Killua. You and Gon mean a lot to me, and I'll always be here for you."

Killua looked at her, his silver eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "I've never had a real mother, (Y/N). My family... it was never about love or protection. It was always about power and control."

(Y/N) reached out and gently placed a hand on Killua's cheek, her touch tender and reassuring. "I'm so sorry, Killua. No child should ever have to go through what you did."

Killua leaned into her touch, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You know, (Y/N), when you said you saw us as your pups, it made me realize what a mother is supposed to be. It's not about power or control; it's about love and protection. And I'm grateful to have you as my... as my mother."

(Y/N)'s heart swelled with love and warmth. She wrapped her arms around Killua, embracing him like a true mother would. "I'm grateful to have you as my pup, Killua. And I promise to protect you with all the love in my heart."

In that moment, as the stars twinkled above and the campfire crackled, (Y/N) and Killua shared a heartfelt mother-son embrace. It was a precious moment that neither of them would ever forget, a testament to the unbreakable bond that had formed between them.

Their journey continued, but now it was enriched by a deeper understanding and love. And as they faced the challenges of their world together, (Y/N) and Killua knew that they had found in each other the family and love they had both been searching for all along.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

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emerald-emerlad · 7 months

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Statement of Gertrude Robinson, regarding her childhood encounter with an Entity, given October 5th, 2007.

TMAtober Day 5: Childhood

Whumptober Day 5: Pinned Down/Debris

Word Count:

Warnings/Tags: Horror, Typical Buried content, Death, Cult-activity, Claustrophobia

[CLICK]

GERTRUDE: This was Elias's suggestion, for reference. I doubt he would be able to do anything about it if I decided not to record this, but perhaps it may help. It's been a while since I... went back.

A sigh. Paper rustles in the background.

GERTRUDE: Ah, but no need to be dramatic. I suppose this would happen eventually, and better to get it over with. Ahem, statement of Gertrude Robinson, regarding her childhood encounter with an Entity, given October 5th, 2007. Statement begins.

She clears her throat.

GERTRUDE: It may be a shock to hear I was a child once. Sometimes that surprises me as well, to think I was once as innocent as a lamb before slaughter, blissfully unaware of what was really happening in the world. Normally I don't see any point in reminiscing about the past, but what I wouldn’t give to have that same curious energy again.

I wasn't a sheltered child- quite the opposite, in fact. My family was... unreliable, so I spent plenty of time outside my crowded home, running through the bustling streets of my hometown and talking my way into places I wouldn't normally be allowed into.

She chuckles, her voice thoughtful.

GERTRUDE: I used to have a lot of friends, back when I was younger. I made plenty, and earned myself a good reputation. There was a boy named George, I think. Another named Jamey. And a girl who called herself Brook.

Her voice lifts, as if she's unsure.

GERTRUDE: You would've thought we were inseparable, following each other around and constantly getting ourselves in trouble. We ended up in tough situations more than once, but stood up for each other no matter what. And yet... it didn't take much to pull us apart.

A pause, then another sigh.

GERTRUDE: It was George's fault, really. I still haven't quite forgiven him. He was never the brightest type, normally requiring our help more than we needed his. Not that we didn't love having him around- he was the face of our little group. Always cracking jokes and giving us things to do on rainy days. It's... not fair that he was the first. But I should count myself lucky, shouldn’t I?

A sharp intake of breath. She clears her throat again.

GERTRUDE: It started off as the four of us. George, Jamey, Brook, and me. My hometown was quite religious and had an abundance of churches scattered about- and a handful of those had been scheduled for demolition or reconstruction. It was our little thing, to sneak our way inside and chase each other through the dusty yet beautiful halls. I was never a religious girl, yet I still found something enchanting about the concept of God. To think there was a man who could make people feel so loved and lost at the same time… it was incredible to me.

On one of our later expeditions, the church was dark enough that it was hard to navigate without a light, and George suggested we play hide and seek. We said yes, obviously, and I was given the role of ‘IT’. We thought it was only us playing.

I counted for 60 seconds. Then, I turned, and ran down the hall. I caused quite a racket, throwing each door open, raising my flashlight across the room, then slamming it shut and continuing forward.

I couldn’t find any of them within the first few minutes. That should’ve warned me that something was wrong, because I had become adept at this sort of thing. You see, the more you get to know someone, the more slight details you learn about them. Jamey enjoyed spaces that were clean and dust-free. Brook liked smaller spaces she could squeeze into and cover it up. George… he needed space. A lot of it. Compact areas terrified him, and more then once I’ve seen him panic and get himself stuck. Looking back… it was obvious. So, so obvious.

A long pause. She sniffs, then clears her throat.

GERTRUDE: Around 5 minutes later, I grew frustrated. Young Gertrude was used to being ahead of everyone, and giving up was never a strong suit of mine. It was nearly midnight. At the 10 minute mark, I was ready to forfeit. Perhaps I should’ve.

I was at the organ on the second floor when I heard the noise. A soft, quiet chanting, almost enthralling with its rhythm. I had brushed it off as a trick of the mind earlier, but up there it was impossible to ignore. But I wasn’t scared, not at all. I was always eager, ready to jump headfirst into danger or adventure. A fatal flaw, nowadays.

So I followed the noise. I followed it to the balcony, where a dim light was filling the room. I hid near the benches, and peeked down. Unfortunately I… I will never forget what I saw.

The pews were filled with people, the source of the noise. They were wearing casual clothes, looking extremely out of place in the church, like they had just been going on a regular day before coming here late at night. They were all facing the front, where a pit was dug where the pedestal would normally be. The hole was pitch black, with the soil crumbling away at the edges and a hissing noise from below it.

A note from the Archivist: This was quite obviously a failed attempt at a ritual of the Buried. Now, I’ve already tried follow-ups and don’t see any point in delving deeper, because I’ve reached my fair share of dead ends. What’s in the past stays in the past. End note.

GERTRUDE: George was standing above it, his head raised and his eyes half-closed. He looked… calm, despite the people watching him with uncanny intensity. He looked around, seemingly unsure of what he should do but content with whatever might happen.

I managed to get his eye contact, trying to gesture for him to leave or fight back. But his eyes seared into my brain, and my chest tightened, unable to pull my gaze away.

I didn’t know what to do, frozen with fear and curiosity at the same time. We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but then he nodded - thoughtfully, almost. The other… observers turned their heads all at once, looking up at me. They didn’t move, didn’t try to stop me. George nodded at me, his mouth pulled into a bittersweet smile. I… I should’ve stopped him. Because then he jumped.

Her voice cracks, which she quickly tries to cover up with a cough.

GERTRUDE: But there was no chance. I stood up in shock, watching his body fall into the pit like prey being thrown to an animal. I didn’t stick around to hear the thump of his body hitting the ground- perhaps there wasn’t even a bottom in it. I tried to flee, and that’s when the church began to crumble around me.

I hid under the organ bench, trying to stop myself from screaming. I watched as the people in the pews welcomed the debris with open arms, even as it crushed them into a bloody mess. Looking back, whatever ‘ascension’ I’m sure they were planning, it was obvious that they would never find it in the state they were left in.

The ceiling had crumbled around, trapping me and pinning me down. I remember the… well, helplessness I felt, unable to even flex my fingers or twitch a limb. Though I wasn’t severely injured, it was nearly impossible to get out of. It was pitch black, and I knew there was a chance I could run out of oxygen if there was that much debris.

A lesson I’ve learned many times is that panic never helps a situation. Either it goes your way, or it doesn’t. And when it’s the latter, you make it work for you no matter what. Everything must be bent in your favor, so you’re the one who comes out alive. I apologize in advance, Elias.

So that’s what I did. It required a quite painful dislocation of my shoulder to roll back under the organ bench, then painstakingly pulling the debris with my broken nails under the bench until I could see a glimmer of light, then bruising as I pushed myself through the small exit.

I spent too long searching for George. Brook and Jamey were nowhere to be found, and their bodies would not be pulled out of the wreckage for some time.

A stifled cough. She takes a deep breath.

GERTRUDE: As for the cultists, I would assume they were attempting a draft of the ‘Sunken Sky’. Obviously it failed. As for why, I’m not quite sure, but I do not wish to visit that town again. I left for a reason, and there is no chance I will be returning.

She sighs loudly.

GERTRUDE: If it wasn’t obvious, afterwards I managed to get away and move to London a few years later. When I learned of a research center that could possibly explain what had happened when I was younger, I went there immediately. I mean no offense, but we were extremely unorganized and weren’t much help. It was very easy to get hired and sort this place out.

Papers shuffle.

GERTRUDE: Elias, I hope you’re happy. Statement ends.

[CLICK]

#tmatober #tmatober 2023 #magtober #magtober 2023 #whumptober 2023 #no.5 #debris #pinned down #themagnusarchives #fic #whumptober #gertrude robinson #tma statement #statement fic #i need to do more ahhhh #ao3 #emerald's stuff

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ask-mortarion-the-death-lord · 11 months

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I've noticed in recent years a trend in GWs writing of 40k that honestly kinda frustrates me, and its this tendency to kill off characters with bad fandom reputations especially between works. and like, yeah its not a problem unique to 40k and sometimes ya need to cut an asshole who aint working

but on the other hand, its such a cop out from actually engaging or doing something with the character ya know. buggy from one piece is such an incredible character not just because hes managed to bullshit his way into a position of supreme authority in the setting when he was introduced as an early one off comedy villain. hes interesting cause oda takes that opportunity to give him a really fun and unique story, explore interesting character aspects and depth, throw him into wild situations and see how he reacts or how his skillset can still prove useful.

and perhaps even more importantly, buggy is far from a one off on this kind of character choices! helmempo a poncy rich boy abusing his dads relative position of power to be arrogant ass becomes best friends [with homoerotic subtones] with koby useless exposition fairy in a handful of early chapters with both of them eventually becoming high ranking highly capable marines with strong moral codes and who garp considers the future of the organization itself. hachi is a comedy octoman whos easily fooled and an idiot in general, and he shows up later as a helpful guide with a girlfriend repentant for his past actions as we learn more about the complicated world of racism which spirals into a sympathetic backstory that explains without justifying arlong and his actions. arlong, who is an objective asshole.

god damn jango, a Michael Jackson parody hypnotist who is a fakeout pathetic villain during his introduction, meets up with fullbody, an insignificant asshole jobber to show off how tough sanji is as well as his moral code, in a chapter page dance off competition where they form an inseparable bond of companionship over dancing that crosses the boundaries of their professions. Fullbody risks his entire carrier to save jangos life, and then they both see captain hina once and immediately fall in love with her and proceed to become the biggest simps ever for this one woman. and then they keep showing up outside the chapter pages. and they are wonderfull.

point is, overall, id say partly why one piece is as successful as it is, because that kind writing helps to breath a really interesting living world. they dont just disappear they live weird fantastic lives, and change in often unexpected ways as people. an asshole the one day can suddenly become an amazing bro the next time ya see em, and that breaths life into everything that goes on in one piece.

which is to all say, space marine 2 the game should have been about leandros and not titus. well he hasn't been confirmed as killed off, i have a strong feeling leandros is going to be given gw's current tendency to knock off fandom scrappies. and thats a shame, because space marine 2 should have been about leandros and his experiences following space marine 1. getting to know him, his perspective on things, and how whatever challenges he faced next shaped or changed those perspectives and beliefs.

instead, heres titus. doing what he did last time. yay.

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer40k #space marine #space marine 2 #leandros #titus

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fandomhopping · 1 year

Text

@skeezpyuff

Dis is for you. You asked for this.

word count: 1,515

“One of these days I’m gonna get outta here Donnie!” The red banded turtle pouted while sitting idly in the ‘time-out’ corner. Splinter put him there for saying his very first swear word, he stubbed his toe and yelled “BITCH!” When splinter heard this he immediately put the young turtle in time-out… It was laughable.

“When I do, you should come with me! We could go out in the world! Just the two of us!” Donnie chuckled,

“Sure, but only when you get out of time-out!” He teased, earning an unamused grunt from Raph.

“Y’know what! I’m gonna go by myself then! You can’t come! And-and… you’ll miss me when I’m Gone!”

“Sure… sure” the purple turtle jeered.

The twins had a bond, one that even if stretched through the thinnest wire would be indestructible. When they were kids, the pair was inseparable, constantly making promises and keeping secrets… some of which they still kept today! Life was in no sense easy, but they all made do, Raph had anger issues and Donnie was the one he would talk to. They’d talk for hours about the prettiest places, unexplored regions etc… they were ignorant to the cruelty above.

Oh how Donnie wished for those blissful times….

——-

“Awww the nature show’s gone…” Mikey cried out. He loved the pretty plants and mountain ranges! His older brother walked in. He hunched, worried they heard him… they were 15! He shouldn’t be sad about a stupid plant show! Instead his brother pulled out a book Mikey was very familiar with.

“If I read this to ya, will ya stop complainin’?” Raph held up the old slightly torn picture book. The one splinter read to the orange banded turtle when they were tots. Mike nodded happily and his brother only sighed in response.

“Y’know one of these days I’m gonna get a train ticket with the prettiest of views and hightail it outta here!” He half joked. Mikey looked at him with bewildered eyes!

“No!” The red banded teen snorted,

“Y’know it’d be pretty but… it would be prettier to you…”

“Really?”

“Mhm! The train with the prettiest of views… mountains, rivers…” the red turtle went on about all the things he’d see. His youngest brother only marveled at the thought.

“That’s amazing, Raphie! But…” the orange banded brother trailed off

“What?”

“You will be really far away… like Leo…” he sniffled, the latter snorted.

“You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone?” He chortled.

“Yeah…” the turtle said while slowly succumbing to sleep… dreaming about the beautiful Appalachian mountains his brother had told him about.

Raph chuckled and bundled Mikey in blankets.

How Mikey will miss those moments…

————————

Leo was training when his younger brother walked in fiddling with something in his hands…

“Leo! You’re not gonna believe this!” Oh boy. The oldest stops his katas to give his brother his attention.

“What’s up?” He asks

“I was just looking at the most impressive volcanoes in the world! An’ I saw this one thing… I think it’s called Mount Fuji? In japan? Anyway! Did you know it stands a whole 12,388 feet!?” The blue turtle sighs at the red banded turtle’s fascination in all things worldly wonderful. 17 and still passionate, it's a trait Leonardo hopes he never loses.

“No I actually didn't!” He huffs teasingly. Watching as Raph’s smile brightens and he ever so slightly stims with his fingers.

They spend the next half an hour just talking about Mount Fuji! And another hour and a half talking about the wonders of the world…

Though something seemed to be bothering Raph,

“Hey… are you alright?” The box turtle snapped up from staring holes into the carpet and thought for a minute.

“Well, something has been bothering me.” He began, “it's just… I can’t help but think of the amount of times we almost died, and worry… if you guys would miss me if…” The short turtle trailed off. Leo knew what he meant instantly.

“Raphael, of course we would miss you! More than missing you! We wouldn’t be able to function without you!” Leo had a full argument ready in seconds. “Donnie wouldn’t get any sleep… Mikey would lose his spark, and I…” The oldest shuddered. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Raph looked at him, uncertainty turning to relief. He snickered.

“You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.”

Leo didn’t think of those implications…

He wishes he did now…

—————-

It shouldn’t have gone this far. They shouldn’t have let it.

It was a normal day for patrol, the 17 year olds were jumping across rooftops and whooping and hollering, to the greatest displeasure of whomever was below them. The turtles heard a noise… the noise that would change their lives.

A conversation, one begging for their life, the other demanding money. Purple Dragons…

The four jumped down and the lady ran away instantly leaving only four Hamato members against a pretty large group of a gang.

Fighting broke out, and Raph was locked in combat with three gang members all wielding weapons ranging from crowbars, pipes, and even a machete! (Yikes! That would need to go first.) the red banded turtle thought to himself, dodging a barrage of attacks. He noticed it. A grenade, being thrown at his brothers! As if on instinct he threw his sai, making the explosion go off mid-air averting the crisis.

He was too late to notice…

CRACK

The red brother looked behind him, noting the gaping crack spread across his shell. Noting the sudden dizziness he felt… noting the fact his legs felt like jello… noting the ringing in his ears and what he thought was someone calling his name? It was so distorted, like he was underwater. Noting how… tired… he… was…

So…

Tired…

‘Hey that concrete is getting awfully close…’

His brothers rushed to him,

“Heh.” He laughed… “you’re… gonna… missss… me…when i'm… gone.”

—————

Mikey saw it happen in slow motion… the bomb exploding, the snarky remark that died on his lips as he watched a gang leader stab into his brother’s shell… watched as the color drained from him. And watched as Raphael… his strong big brother slowly collapsed to the ground. . .

Mikey. Saw. Red.

Two seconds passed and instantly the orange banded turtle was on the offender, growling at him like a deranged animal. Markings glowing brightly across his arms and around his body as he seethed. Reaching into the air a mystical three section staff appears in the young turtle’s hands. He wields it with an intent to send the attacker to the fiery pits of hell.

Said opposer is asking and trembling a few feet away while the rest of the gang backs him. Encroaching on the four, Mikey notices in his peripheral vision his two older brothers desperately aiding Raph… his mission is clear.

Buy them time.

He launches himself at the gang, seeming to fight endlessly! He doesn't care if the opponent dies. He cares if they’re defeated by any means necessary.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours.

Leo is dragging a still feral Michelangelo from a pile of bodies… some of which are alive. While the orange banded turtle is biting and scratching at the thing keeping him from his enemies.

“MIKEY CALM DOWN!” His oldest brother pleads. He quiets, cop sirens…

Shit!

They are in the sewer before raph could say “you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me!”

Arriving at the lair Mikey is ushered out of the med bay so Donnie and Leo can work their medic magic… that leaves Mikey, and his thoughts…

He killed people today.

As if he had super powers, his rat father walked into the room sensing his distress.

“What troubles you Michelangelo?” He asked. Mikey sighed sorrowfully.

“Master splinter… I killed people today. So many people…” he choked out. It was the rat’s turn to sigh knowingly.

“Let me tell you a story, my son.” He began. “Long ago, recently after I was turned into a mutant… you and I were scavenging for food and supplies when we were discovered by the shredder's minions. They surrounded us. They were after you.” He pointed a bony finger at the turtle. “I did what I had to do… most of them… didn’t make it out alive. I dealt with that grief in the only way I knew how. Apologizing.” Mikey looked at his master, puzzled.

“Apologizing?” He questioned.

“Yes. I lit the spirit candles, and went into the spirit realm apologizing… it was up to them if they forgave me or not.” Mikey was bewildered but knew that was what he had to do.

Several days later a certain red banded turtle awoke to many family members worrying over him! And had been banned to bed rest for 5 weeks while his shell healed. Earning a very annoyed groan from. Him. During that time, Mikey went to the spirit world. He never told anyone what he saw there… but his spirit appeared to have lost a massive burden it carried.

Not entirely… but almost, eventually that feeling would leave.

Mikey… wouldn’t miss it when it was gone.

———————-

#Tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2003 leo #tmnt 2003 raph #tmnt 2003 mikey #tmnt 2003 donnie #tmnt 2003 splinter #very short #angsty boi #Tmnt 2003 angst #no i’m not sorry #let Mikey go feral 2023 #lmao what is my life

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