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fortheloveof-sebastian · 11 months

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Find Sebastian: Part Two

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader, Anne x Ominis

Summary: You've, somewhat hesitantly, agreed to join Anne and Ominis on their quest to find Sebastian. Not only is Ominis furious at you, but Anne refuses to talk to you. Add all of that up with a surprise from an unwanted visitor, and your journey commences with quite an interesting twist.

Warnings: (spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy) arguing, fighting with wands, minor violence, blood

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Please make sure to read Part One first! There will be a third part, and I believe an alternate ending as well🤔

“Here. Catch.”

The blackberry arcs through the air. You catch it, and the splash of juices explode on your tongue as you pierce the bumpy skin of the fruit. Nothing tastes sweeter than the look of delight on Sebastian’s face, however, and when you kiss him — enthralled by him, by his company — his lips are smeared with the sticky purple juice.

“Your turn,” you say, grabbing a blackberry from the wicker basket.

Classes were dismissed early for the day on account of the nice weather, thought you suspected it had more to do with the faculty party the night before; none of the professors appeared to be in the mood for the usual antics of the students. Not that you minded. It resulted in a chance for you and Sebastian to leave school grounds and plan a picnic.

Currently, you lounge beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the red and white checkered blanket you found soft under your touch. Sebastian lays on his side. He discarded his robes and vest quite some time ago, and now wore his white button-up with with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and first few buttons undone. The peek of the tanned, freckled skin drove you wild.

“Mm,” Sebastian says in reply to your challenge.

Instead of catching the blueberry in his mouth like you intended, he leans forward and closes the space between you. You held the blackberry aloft, and he purses his lips around your fingers to take it, his tongue darting out to swipe the residual juices.

The action sent molten lava straight to your core. Suddenly, you aren’t that hungry for blackberries anymore.

Sebastian grins at you. It’s infuriating, the way he knows the effect he has on you.

You wish desperately that you could compose yourself around him, but his presence — the mere thought of him — made you weak in the knees. It certainly wasn’t an attribute that you found necessarily compelling about yourself. It was frustrating on the best days, devastating on the worst one.

A dangerous game it was, someone knowing exactly how much of a hold they had on you.

You wake with your fingers touching your bottom lip, as if remembering the taste of the blackberries and the pressure of Sebastian’s lips on yours. Blankets rustle and fall to the side as you climb out of bed and pad across the floor.

The memory had been almost a year ago.

Hogwarts offered for you to stay over the summer. You had nowhere else to go — no family, and you had planned to stay with Professor Fig, but that had been unceremoniously halted by his unexpected death. You heart aches at the thought of your mentor. The only comfort you had was provided by the notion that he was hopefully reunited with his wife, who you never had the opportunity to meet.

You gaze in the mirror.

Your hair clouds messily around your head. Dark circles are punched beneath your eyes, and you’ve lost considerable weight. It haunts you, your dream, and the last lingering memory of how strongly Sebastian effects you.

He had been missing for a few weeks and you were already falling apart.

Discomforted, you turn away from the mirror.

No one greets you in the Slytherin common room like they would’ve during the school year, at least before the incident. Vaguely, you’re aware that Ominis lurks somewhere close. Hogwarts also extended an invitation for him to stay since it’s common knowledge that his family is less than amicable, and it’s proven to be extremely awful considering that he actively goes out of his way to avoid you.

It should be interesting to go on an indefinite trip with him and Anne, who only just yesterday scathed you with her tongue.

Dread opens inside you.

Were you really going to do this?

You quickly dress yourself and set aside a few extra outfits into a bottomless bag. You’re not sure how long you’ll be gone or even what the plan is. The longest would be until classes start, you suppose, but you can’t bring yourself to think of Sebastian being gone for that long. His absence exists within you like a dark, slick organ sliding around.

The effect of rippling water plays against the ground besides the window to the lake. It soothes you, strangely. You stop and stare.

Usually, Ominis would be here, waiting to con first years.

You feel a lump rise in your throat. What would you even say to each other? There was so much and nothing at all.

But he couldn’t hate you that badly, right? He did invite you along with the search.

Instead of flying, you decide to use Floo Flames to travel to Feldcroft. It only serves to further twist your stomach, though, and you allow yourself a moment of calm before plunging yourself headfirst into what you can only assume is going to be a catastrophe.

Smoke puffs out of the chimney. You knock, but push your way inside without waiting.

It’s clear that you’ve interrupted an argument between Anne and Ominis; a distinct tension hangs in the air, and even though you had only just arrived, you get the feeling that they were talking about you.

“Hello,” you say.

Anne’s face tightens like a face. Ominis’ sightless eyes slide in your direction. “You’re here.”

“You don’t pretend like you’re so excited to see me,” you say, slinging your bag to the floor. It’s strange, entering into a space that carries so many memories become hostile.

“We weren’t pretending,” Anne deadpans.

An awkward silence follows.

You shuffle your feet.

“Well we better get going,” Ominis says finally. He’s dressed impeccably as always, straw colored hair styled away from his face. Anne moves to collect their bags.

“Wait,” you say. “Go where? We haven’t talked about —”

Anne snaps, “We already did.”

“Without me?” Your eyes widen in surprise, then narrow as your brows knit together. “I thought you asked me to come so I could help.”

Anne scowls. You remain rooted in place as she storms past you, knocking into your shoulder with exaggerated intent.

The door slams behind her, leaving you and Ominis — the first day you’ve been alone since the day of the incident.

He sighs in a resigned manner. “She doesn’t want you here.”

“Really? How’d you guess?”

Ominis clicks his tongue. “I invited you because I figured that you might, possibly, get us closer to Seb — to him.” His name gutters in Ominis’ throat. He swallows. “Although I will say that if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“I think you know,” Ominis all but hisses. “You were the one to encourage his silly fantasies. If you would’ve just stopped him before —”

“Me?” You echo in astonishment. “I’m not the only one to blame here.”

Ominis’ mouth pulls down in a frown. “I tried to stop him. I told him that it wasn’t safe, that it was going to lead him down a dangerous path. And now look where we are.”

“We both know once Sebastian gets something in his head that nothing will stop him, not even a graphorn.” Rage simmers in the pit of your stomach, boiling your veins. “And both of us were there.”

“You know what my family did to me, what they made me do,” he fires back. “And now the Dark Arts have taken my best friend too. I wish we never would’ve met you, because then none of this would’ve been happening!”

His words stun you into silence, an icy balm on your raging emotions.

Your voice is strained, apologetic, “Ominis —”

“Don’t.” His jaw clenches. Softer, he says, “Don’t.”

Your hand drops to your side as he marches past you, his aristocratic features twisted in frustration. You don’t follow him.

You stand there, silence settling over you.

And then tears spring to your eyes.

Ominis never wanted to even meet you. No, you refuse to believe that’s true. Ominis — and Anne — were hurt, and if you needed to be the source for their anger, then so be it. It’s not like you hadn’t already come to the same conclusion.

Your gaze floats over the humble kitchen and dining area. It’s considerably cleaner than yesterday, which you figure is Ominis’ doing. Remnants of breakfast are strewn about, barely touched.

The doors to Sebastian’s room and Solomon’s room are closed.

And for the first time, fear washes over you.

Fear that you wouldn’t find Sebastian. Fear that you would never see him again. Fear that you had found your best friends, your family, and in one fell swoop you were going to lose them forever.

Each footstep feels heavy and leaden as you pivot and walk back outside, the golden fingers of sunlight stretching across the small town. Anne and Ominis stand a few feet away, Anne’s face buried in the crook of his neck as he holds her.

The sight startles you. It’s strangely intimate, and you feel as though you shouldn’t be witnessing it, like walking in on someone undressed.

Anne notices you after a beat and leaps away from Ominis, rendering him quite confused until she whispers an explanation.

You study them. Was something going on between them?

It’s difficult to tell. Anne, as pale and sickly-looking as ever, has no traces of guilt or shame on her face but the grief visible there is enough for you to divert your eyes. Ominis, standing now with his arms crossed besides her, looks as aloof and disinterested as ever.

In an effort to soothe yourself, you reach your hand into your pocket and grasp your wand.

“Let’s go,” you say. “Where to?”

“The Forbidden Forest?”

You stare questioningly at Ominis and Anne, the latter staring up at the darkened treeline in thinly veiled contempt. The bridge stretches between you and it.

“We figured we would start close and then work our way out,” Ominis says. Apparently, Anne isn’t speaking to you.

Doing a poor job of disguising your disbelief, you ask, “Do you really think he would be here?”

Anne shoots you a glare.

You don’t want to offend them, but you can’t quite believe that Sebastian would be hiding all of this time in the forest. Wouldn’t he have gone somewhere…farther?

“We don’t know,” Ominis says. He seems vaguely annoyed with his duties as a liaison. “That’s why we’re looking.”

You bite back your reply.

Well, if that was the case, then let’s check under his bed. He could be there. Or perhaps the Headmaster’s office. You want to say that you need to be more realistic about your approach, but you don’t want to create any more of a chasm between you and the others, so you just dutifully duck your head and follow them into the forest.

Despite the oppressive summer heat, the forest was disconcertingly chilly. You wrap your arms around yourself in a bid to keep warm.

“He could be anywhere,” you say upon arriving at a forked path.

Anne and Ominis share a look. Ominis delegates, “Our first year, Sebastian lost the Dueling Wands championship. He was devastated, obviously. When we eventually found him — we traced the magic from his wand — he was in a cave, practicing.”

You wish it could be that easy. Sebastian either ditched his wand or put an anti-tracing hex on it.

You ask, “Have you not already checked there?”

“We have,” Ominis says. “We saw traces of a fire but no Sebastian. We’re hoping to catch him this time if he’s there.”

Without another word, Anne and Ominis chose a path, it’s importance unknown to you. The conversation subsides to the sound of your footsteps and the faint chatter that’s habitual of the Forbidden Forest. Flashes of light manage to break through the twisted canopy of branches, guiding your way.

It saddens you, slightly, that you hadn’t known this detail of Sebastian’s life.

What else didn’t you know?

The forest closes around you as the three of you continue your hike silently. Flocks of bird scatter, and grazing deer stop to watch you pass. You do your best not to think about all of the other, potentially dangerous animals within the forest, especially with Sebastian at large.

Sebastian was an excellent duelist, of course, but anything could happen out here. A sickening feeling overcomes you at the memory of finding Jackdaw’s tomb. Could Sebastian have suffered a similar fate? Would his ghost be condemned to eternity here, wandering aimlessly?

You shake your head as if to physically dislodge the intrusive thoughts.

No. Sebastian was too stubborn to die. You would find him, and you would find him alive.

“Incindio.” Ominis flicks his wand, burning away a curtain of spiderwebs. You blink. Evidently, you had been keeping pace without keeping attention — the mouth of a large cave gaped before you, eager to swallow you whole.

You watch the last bits of spiderwebs smolder.

“This cave?” You ask. “But there’s…spiders.”

“Come on,” Ominis says.

A small part of you wants to persist that it’s Sebastian who’s afraid of spiders, not you, but, in the spirit of not making things worse, ultimately decide not to argue.

You let Anne and Ominis to go ahead of you. Under your breath, you mutter, “Revelio.”

Traces of ancient magic illuminate several spaces throughout the cave, drawing your interest to each one: the embers still burning, a pouch of galleons, and a bundle of tattered blankets. No definite signs of anyone.

You open your mouth to tell them as much, but abruptly shut it as Anne whirls around.

She addresses Ominis. “We should wait here until Sebastian gets back.”

“It could be all day,” Ominis tells her.

“I know,” Anne says sharply. Her tone softens then, just the slightest amount, as if hoping to reconcile the barbs of her words. “But if he’s here, we have to confront him.” She glances around, her gaze skimming purposefully over you. “We can take shifts. Two of us looking in the forest while the other stays, just in case. Ominis, you and I —”

“No.” You level her with a glare. “I came here to help. If Sebastian is even here. I’ll go first.”

Your statement is met with quiet.

Ominis drops onto a boulder with a significant air of theatrical display. “My feet ache,” Ominis says. He pries off his shoes and massages his feet, though he hardly seemed bothered by them merely seconds before. “These shoes are not meant for…gallivanting around.”

Anne’s hands clench. “Then why did you wear them?”

“Well, if — when — we find Sebastian, I don’t want him to think I’ve sacrificed fashion in the face of his disappearance.”

It’s a shame he can’t witness the absolutely withering looks from his companions.

You turn and march out of the cave without looking back. Fine. You could perfectly well search the forest without any help, as Anne had made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with you.

She should never have told you about Ominis’ insistence on you tagging along. Why did she? It was starting to be ridiculous, her refusal to speak to you as if by doing so she might contract some horrible disease.

There’s a sudden thud behind you, followed by an impassioned curse. “Merlin’s beard!”

You whip around. Anne peels herself off the ground, and before you know, you’re doubling back to help her up. “Careful,” you tell her, because you’re a glutton for punishment.

She glares at the gnarled root protruding from the ground, undoubtedly the one that caused her to trip, and then at you. “I’m fine,” she snarls.

Anne rejects your preoffered arm and plunges into the trees.

You barely manage to suppress an eye roll.

This time as you continue, you comb the ground for any other tree roots or animals that want to eat you. Anne stomps through the undergrowth.

Although she suggested the idea, Anne wasn’t in the right health to be exploring by herself. In fact, you were certain Sebastian would go into cardiac arrest if he found out. But Ominis clearly wanted to force the two of you to talk, which you believe is more of a suicide mission than a bonding opportunity.

You’re broken by your thoughts when you nearly collide into Anne, who has stopped to lean against a partially charred tree. What could’ve done that damage?

“Keep going,” Anne huffs. “I’ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m fine.”

You raise a brow. “You know, you keep saying that, but I believe you less every time. If you need a break, just say so.”

“I’m —” she starts again. Her mouth snaps shut. Anne straightens. For someone who can barely walk a few feet without wheezing, she pins you with a convincingly stern look. “I don’t need a break.”

“Okay.” You shrug.

You leave her.

Branches tear and poke at your clothes. What even were you looking for, anyway? For Sebastian to suddenly pop out from behind a bush?

If he was in the Forbidden Forest — which you thought was unlikely — he wouldn’t leave some identifying trail or marker. Anne and Ominis were forgetting who they were dealing with. Sebastian was smart, smarter than his own good. If he wanted to disappear, they would have to try a lot harder than just browsing the forest.

Anne audibly struggles behind you, but you don’t bother stopping, using one arm to hold back a long hanging vine.

She calls your name. It’s only the second time that you react, when her voice thins with panic.

“What? What is it?”

A tangle of branches and leaping toadstool caps obscure your view of her. You double back, cursing the annoying fungi, and stumble upon Anne looking in disgust at something near her feet. Upon closer inspection, you realize that she’s stepped in something sticky and foul smelling.

She lifts her foot and the substance stretches with it.

“Troll bogeys,” Anne says.

You grimace. You’re more than familiar with the unagreeable body fluid. “I think you’re right.” Realization dawns on you. “But if those are troll bogeys, then —”

Almost as if on cue, Ominis’ high-pitched, reedy scream slices through the forest and disrupts a flock of teenaged thestrals. Their dark wings soar overheard like a damning omen.

Your gaze locks with Anne’s. “Ominis.”

“Come on!” You grab her wrist. “We have to go!”

If Anne had trouble maneuvering before, her clumsiness is only exacerbated by her panic. You know it’s not her fault, but the longer it takes, the larger the ball of dread in your stomach grows.

You stagger to a halt, effectively halting Anne as well, considering you’d been towing her along.

Heart hammering, you say, “Just-Just stay here.”

“What?” Her eyes flash, so much like Sebastian’s that it pains you. “No, I’m going with you.”

Your teeth audibly grind. “We need to get there now. I’ll come back and find you.” You pause. “I promise.”

Anne searches your face. Perhaps for deception, or maybe truth, and whatever she finds must satisfy her. She nods, once.

That’s all the approval you need.

Legs cycling, arms pumping, you sprint back to the cave. You whip your wand from your pocket. The mouth of the cave is clear. You can’t hear Ominis. Worry burrows into your mind, and you inch forward with caution.

Your eyes gradually adjust to the darkness. The damp, stale smell of the cave presses against you, invading your senses.

Ominis slides against the far wall, quivering, wand grasped tightly in his hand. His eyes are wide.

A massive troll stands between you and him.

You’ve dealt with your fair share of trolls before — your first encounter being with Sebastian — but this one is impossibly larger. Clutched in one hand meaty hand is a massive club lined with spikes, the metal screeching against the stone as it drags behind him, advancing on Ominis.

Without bothering to cast a disillusionment spell, you run forward. “Petrificus totalus!”

It doesn’t work on the troll, of course, at least not completely. But it stuns it and gives you enough time to rush it, slide yourself between its legs, and right yourself in front of Ominis. You know that he’s more than capable of dealing with the abomination himself, but in your experience, it’s always a good idea to have backup when you can’t actually see your opponent.

Ominis says, breathless, “Thank Merlin you’re here.”

The troll snaps from its temporary trance and roars, rattling your bones. “My name isn’t Merlin,” you reply. “And don’t thank me yet.”

“Is Anne here? Where is she?”

“No. She’s somewhere safe,” you tell him, in case that gives him more reason to worry.

Ominis doesn’t get the chance to press for details.

With impressive speed, the troll lumbers toward you, swinging it’s club up to the ceiling. You snatch Ominis away right as the club buries itself in the wall directly where your heads would’ve been. Pebbles and stones rain down on you. Hauling Ominis behind you, you skirt the troll’s hulking figure as it pries the club free.

“The Dark Arts don’t sound so bad now, huh?”

Both of you fire spell after spell at the beast while it’s distracted, bellowing as the magic sears its tough skin.

Ominis’ jaw clenches. “Never.”

In response to your barrage of spells, the troll grabs a boulder with one hand and hurls it at you. As soon as you evaporate it, another one takes it place, arcing through the air.

There’s a flicker inside of you.

It’s hard to describe, the ancient magic that resides within you, an omnipresent force. You imagine it like a fish in dark waters, it’s silvery body flashing as it twists out of sight.

You point your wand upward. At your command, storm clouds gather overhead. The troll has only just reclaimed its club when the storm compacts, rippling with blue energy; using your entire body, you drag down your wand, bringing with it a bolt of the same blue magic. It strikes the troll, it’s subsequent howl rattling the ground.

“Do that again!” Ominis yells.

You smile wistfully. “Noted,” you tell him, because explaining the fluctuating reservoir of your powers is too complicated.

The troll’s entire body shakes as it recovers. It’s giant head tosses back and forth, splattering saliva and crimson colored blood.

“Move!” You shout. The troll lumbers towards you. Ominis jumps to one side while you roll to the other.

He casts another spell at the troll, effectively getting its attention so that it pivots to him.

You curse Ominis’ misguided heroism.

“Wingardium leviosa!” You guide a shattered boulder from the troll’s initial attack through the air, and with a viscous swish of your wand, launch it into the troll’s chest.

“Confringo!” A red burst of magic erupts from Ominis’ wand and assaults the beast.

The troll relentlessly braves your series of attacks, seemingly uneffected by them. Mentally and physically, you gradually lose your gusto, fatigue wearing your mind and your body. It’s an endless dance — the troll rushing you, lobbing rocks, swinging it’s club, and you and Ominis, casting spell after spell and dodging it’s assaults.

Ominis performs an impressive spell combination. The troll staggers backward and, despite yourself, you grin. “Nice!”

Only, Ominis looks less than thrilled. His face, already pale, has been reduced to a ghostly pallor. You zap the ceiling above the troll so that’s it’s distracted, and you run to Ominis’ side, right as he stumbles and collides with the wall before sinking to the ground.

“Ominis! What —” frantically, you tear open his vest to find a bloody wound.

He smiles grimly. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

A million curses spring to mind. You want to ask him how and when, but there’s no time. The troll has batted away the shower of rocks you set upon it, heavy footsteps ringing out through the cave.

You’re not sure how much strength you have left — if only you had a wiggenweld potion handy.

“Protego!” You yell.

A protective bubble forms around you and Ominis as the troll descends upon you. You wrench your eyes shut as the troll hoists its club back over its head and swings it down. When you’re not immediately obliterated into pieces, you risk a peek — the spell has shielded you, but it’s done nothing to deter the beast. It strikes the bubble again and again in increasingly aggressive intervals, rage written clearly on its ugly features.

How much longer could you hold the spell?

Ominis moans, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, over here!"

The three of you — you, the troll, and Ominis —freeze, your attention snapping towards the front of the cave. Anne waves her hands over her head. She yells again, "Come get me!"

Weakly, Ominis raises his head. "Is that—?"

"No," you hastily say. "Just-Just rest. I'll be back, alright?"

Which you thought was what you told Anne, who now has gained the interest of the troll. Apparently both Sallow twins are hard of hearing when it comes to following directions. Blood swells in your mouth, warm and coppery.

You have to stop the troll before it gets to Anne.

Since the goblin attack, her magic had been faulty and unpredictable, rendering her without the use of a wand. An angry troll barreling towards you seemed good enough a time as any to get your wand out, so you can only assume she hadn't brought one at all.

Summoning your strength, you push upwards on the balls of your feet and launch yourself forward.

There's plenty of boulders surrounding you, thanks to the initial attack of the troll and the subsequent ones thrown. You fling one into the air, ancient magic crackling like lightning, and hurl it at the troll.

It's small head twists on his massive shoulders, beady eyes locking on you again.

"Go!" You yell at Anne. "Ominis needs you!"

Ensuring the troll doesn't notice the sickly girl limp her way around him, you rocket another shoulder at it, striking him squarely in the chest. It lets out a bellow so loud that you have to clamp your hands over your ears lest it blows an eardrum.

It's wearing down, you think triumphantly. It just needed one last finishing blow.

You reach out with your ancient magic like an extension of yourself. A blast of blue energy shoots out from your wand. You snag a boulder from behind you and whirl around, flinging it at the troll with a surge of renewed power. Adrenaline pumps through your blood, heady and slightly intoxicating, mingling with the flickers of ancient magic.

The boulder crashes into the troll, who makes an audible oof, then falls motionless to the ground.

You savor the moment of defeat, but only for a second. You run back to Ominis, finding Anne kneeling over him and staunching the wound with her hands. Why didn't you think of that?

"We need to go," you say. You glance over your shoulder. "There's no saying how long the troll will stay knocked out."

Your heart tugs with concern at the sight of Ominis.

Vaguely, you're aware of Anne looking at you, but you can only stare at the crimson blood on her hands. "He needs help," she says.

"Right." You nod dumbly. Like water dispelling off the wings of a bird, you can feel your adrenaline diminishing, replaced by a distinct feeling of panic. "What do we? He can't walk and --"

"I know someone," Anne volunteers suddenly. "I-I go to them on occasion when I get really sick. They can help him, I know they will." Anne glances at Ominis, and then back at you. "Do you know how to apparate?"

#fanfic #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #harry potter #sebastian sallow x reader #writers #writers on tumblr #finding sebastian #anne sallow x ominis gaunt

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shallowseeker · 7 months

Note

srry for the giant wall of rambles I got too thinky bc I was chopping apples and having a suspiciously nice day

do you think cas actually likes bees or if its a fandom trait based on Crazy!Cas who liked bees because of the hivemind resembling heaven?

also i imagine heaven and angels like parasitic creatures while hell is leeches/fungi/deep sea type scavengers

You're apologizing to ME about giant walls? Now, that is a little funny.

BEES & THE QUEST FOR MEANING I've gone back and forth on the bees, but mostly I think it's harmless, and I've made peace with the fact that I'm just not that into it.

Over time I've landed on putting the bees in a more biblical/theological space and leaving them there. I don't even think Cas liked them so much as he was desperately checking out of life and struggling to find meaning in a universe that felt monotonous and horrific -> the wars and sex and the unhappy dogs that can only think in ovals.

Because of his shame and depression, Cas could find no meaning or joy in the rat-race of life. He wants to be a non-participant because, “I destroyed everything and I will destroy everything again.”

Here, I view Cas as Ecclesiastes. He was despairing over meaninglessness and the useless "striving of wind." I do think it was a motif that was 100% on purpose, too, because war, work, and career dealings are accompanied by fans, windmills, and industrial stirrings a lot in SPN!

It's very cool. It even appears in The Winchesters companion series, when Mary is facing her childhood!

Other Cas Things Interest Me More

Anyway, Cas and bees. Cas doesn't ever really return to them again after he moves past his struggle with his season 7 nihilism/meaninglessness. He seems more enamored with trash TV than bees. "I missed television," is the very first thing he says after getting out of Purgatory, lol.

He doesn't seem like much of an environmentalist either and seems perfectly willing to hand-slaughter pigs and eat shitty food. (To me, Lucifer seems like more of the environmentalist or even AU Zachariah from season 13's Good Intentions.) Or even Cain!

I think in later seasons, Cas seems vaguely aware of and attempting to be appreciative of the fleetingness of the time he has with his human family.

We see this theme in Naomi's words sometime in season 14 (I think?):

NAOMI: "Everything ends, Castiel."

We see it again in Cas’s words to Jack in season 14’s Ouroboros:

CAS: "The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them, you. When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them."

He also, unlike characters like Sam, seems to not get too hung up on agonizing over moral relativism -> judging from his words to Claire in season 10's The Things We Left Behind:

CAS: "Yes, well, um… Before, I was very self-assured. I was convinced I was on this righteous path. Now I realize that there is no righteous path. It’s just people trying to do their best in a world where it’s far too easy to do your worst."

And then, there's also his words to Apocalypse-World Cas, "We're the same," & "Yes, we are."

My point is, Cas seems to have made peace with and understands that morality is relative to where your allegiances lie, and he seems good with preferring his allyship to humans.

He also seems to be more focused on the here and now rather than preserving the future indefinitely, which in my mind, goes with bees-as-work and bees-as-future.

You could argue that Jack changes that for him in 12x19 The Future, but I’m not sure… It still seems pretty family- and legacy-focused.

///

HEAVEN AS HIVEMIND This is another area where I really break from the fandom.

I don't view Heaven as a hivemind so much as I view it as a police state/military power, or else I don't think it would be structured the way it is. It's got this rigid party propganada, "We're heartless. Only humans feel emotions and true joy." I view it more as a surveillance state.

On the whole, I think Angelicity deals with the motif of epic, professional repression. On a lower level of existence, I'm reminded of the studies where men say they don't feel emotions but test as having them in equal or more intense measure when you measure psychological arousal and adrenal stress. I view Angelicity as a narrative exaggeration of traditional, brutal, stoic masculinity— a higher, Heavenly masculinity carried to its extreme.

It's got insanely brutal, inhumane emotional expectations. Grace, as my lovely father pointed out, looks a lot like traditional view on virility; it’s powerful and heals all sorts of emotional and physical ailments, but it’s finite and prone to performance issues.

In the show, practically every angel we see onscreen rebels, and angels are a huge motif for ongoing Civil War -> "brother against brother."

Despite what Lucifer and Cas and Naomi say, most angels are shown to have their own ideas, and on the whole, are shown to be reckless, angry, wrathful, impulsive, incredibly petty, and emotionally volatile.

I think what tends to happen is people hear the party line about heartlessness and obedience, and that clouds them from what the series actually shows us again and again: angels rebelling left and right and being brutally beaten down and lobotomized for it. (The lobotomies don’t even work all the way!)

Angels have constant, ongoing Civil War because they disagree with each other, even when there's only a handful of them left (Ex: Dumah Vs. Naomi in season 14).

Cas is not unique. That's the tragedy of authoritarianism. He only THINKS he is.

Cas's tendency to think of himself as unique and to think of his dealings with other angels as being "like teaching poetry to fish," is why he reaches for tyrannical god power in the first place. He thinks that, because they don't agree with him, they somehow don't have free will. Which is… kind of a flawed premise.

It's very complicated...but I think the reality is that until recently, Cas was right there with them, beaten down and hammered into shape. Hell, roll back a few years, and he'd have slaughtered himself alongside the others.

I think back to Anna's insistence that angels can't feel and are heartless, which is itself contradictory because Anna wouldn't have fallen in the first place if she had been emotionless to start with.

I prefer that she fell to be "allowed" to experience the emotions she probably already had…and had brutally repressed over eons of military dissociation and totalitarian training.

Being a soldier wears on you:

We see that, the longer Dean is a soldier, the more he too begins to lose sight of what is right or wrong. Season 15 Dean is so distraught and lost that he vaguely resembles season 4 soldier!Cas.

CAS: "I don't know what's right or wrong, or if you passed or failed here."

I LIKE YOUR COOL IDEA!

i imagine heaven and angels like parasitic creatures while hell is leeches/fungi/deep sea type scavengers

Deep sea creatures and fungi are wicked cool. See, you have ideas! You should just write them. I'd read that. Deep sea creatures would make excellent demons too, what with the whole "absence of light" and being down deep and all.

There's something horrific about being alive on all levels, isn't there? We all have to consume something to keep going. One of my fave religious essays is called The Horror of Eating, and it posits that Gods are so scary to us because we naturally put them above us, with us as the food/sacrifice to them. Brrr. This is why the sacrifice motif appears so often.

I guess...as humans, we empathize and humanize our food sources, which is a big part of our incredible neuroses...

#thanks for the convo #asks

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madaboutmunson · 1 year

Text

The King of Wands

Word count: 3.3K (One Shot)

Summary: A short imagine about what things would be like for Steve after the events of Season 4

Warnings: angst, violence, arguing, crying, death, injury

Author notes: This is my first Steve fic, so I hope I did ok

Steve was at that unnaturally thin part of the knife edge of his thoughts where thoughts might become actions. Where a maybe becomes a yes.

Alone in the dark of his RV living room, he sighs deeply. The TV is blaring about something Steve zoned out of well over an hour ago. The whole purpose of switching it on was defeated because his memories were much louder than it could ever be.

He thinks about the decline of the group over the last few months.

Well, the decline of one, in particular, that ultimately was the glue between them all.

His one ankle propped up on his knee, as his eyes unfocussed, stared into nothing. His thumb and index finger alternate tapping on the side of his sneaker.

The one time. THE ONE TIME. He rages in his mind. The one time Dustin was partnered up with someone else, it had all gone to shit in more ways than he had initially thought.

Dustin shouldn't have been there. Robin should have stayed with Eddie. He and Nance should have gone to that house. Dustin should have been with Lucas, Max, and Erica.

Then maybe Eddie wouldn't have played hero, and maybe Jason wouldn't have gotten the jump on Lucas. Perhaps they'd both still be here.

Like Eddie said on that boat, "You tryin' to sink us," and that's precisely what had happened. Not through any fault of Dustin's own, just that his presence in those events set things in motion that could not be stopped. Steve didn't blame Dustin. He blamed himself.

What is a kid to do when his hero dies in his arms? Do you expect him to brush it off and return to how things were? Mostly everyone else around the group seeing Eddie as a murderous satanic cult leader had not helped with Dustin's decent into...well...someone else. His protests were vocal at first, defending Eddie's honour, his legacy, but it wasn't enough to keep their spiteful words at bay, and soon Dustin was cutting people out of his life as easily as brushing dust from his shoulder. Not even Suzie survived that cull.

One bad word against Eddie, got you that look. The one that if it could kill you where you stood, it would, in a fiery blaze of Dustin's silent wild rage.

Steve could see it happening, and it was slow and discrete, but people were so caught up in other things. Max's recovery, the apocalypse, their future. Some even dared to be distracted by love interests and college, but not Steve.

All he could see was that happy, bossy, wonderful kid folding in on himself. Over and over until the folding was so small, it was a speck of who he was. His eyes, which once sparkled with possibility, now dulled with pain and frustration. The colourful wardrobe, or his unashamed interests and personality, slowly morphed into a collection of mourning clothes.

Dustin had taken a leaf out of Steve and Nancy's book how they visited Barb's family after what happened. Dustin visited Wayne whenever he could, so they could reminisce about Eddie. So they could keep Eddie alive by not forgetting him, telling stories, looking through his old belongings and photographs, and imagining what he might say to them now.

In almost no time at all, Wayne started bestowing little Eddie things on Dustin. A book that Wayne was never going to read that Dustin could escape into. An album that gave Wayne a headache, but Dustin could let his anger out to. A t-shirt that Wayne couldn't give to the drive because of the "troubling" graphics that Dustin couldn't wait to encapsulate himself in.

Wayne was only trying to please them both, to keep Eddie alive, and Dustin was always happiest after their visits, but Dustin's room, appearance, and personality were becoming a shrine to a dead man.

Steve knew as obnoxious as Eddie could be, he wouldn't have wanted this for Dustin. Eddie wanted Dustin always to be Dustin. Eddie would never have cursed any of the kids he cared about with the weight of being Eddie.

When it was just the two of them, sometimes Steve got a glimpse of the real Dustin, caring, smart, lovable, and funny, but mostly he got one of two new versions.

Broken Dustin. The one who would tell Steve about his vivid nightmares or middle-of-the-day flashbacks. The one that quoted Eddie's last words like they were his new creed. "Look after those little sheep for me. Promise me". Dustin had sobbed and pounded his fists against Steve's chest as he held him tightly in his arms until he was exhausted, more times than Steve cared to remember.

Cold Dustin. Devoid of humanity and patience. In the best-case scenario, he might lock himself away for a few days, ignore phone calls, and not turn up where he said he would be. He holed up in his room listening to static, drawing maps of nowhere, getting way too high, or passing out drunk. In the worst case, he'd lash out at anyone and everything. He is cruel to his friends and Mom, belittling or berating them. Screaming in their faces, physically threatening them because he didn't have anywhere to put all that anger.

The only blows he ever landed were on the new local bully to contend with. He'd made the mistake of saying the wrong thing on the wrong day to a member of Hellfire. On a good day, Dustin would have taken him down with a quip, an obnoxious insult, but this wasn't a good day. This guy got taken down by a chair to the face. Then as Mike detailed, the guy made the mistake of uttering Eddie's name. Apparently, Dustin didn't even wait to hear the rest of the insult before he was on this guy. He was playing amateur dentist by repeatedly hitting him in the face with a tray and, when that snapped, his fists.

Steve had stood in that office with Mrs. Henderson, looking at the bruised and swollen mess that was Dustin after the bully's cavalry had finally intervened. Steve wasn't even listening to whatever the principal had to say; it wasn't his concern. He had to fix this, but he didn't know how.

Eddie's last words were a source of love and hate for Steve. They were words that sometimes forced the true Dustin out, made him compassionate, caring for others, making people laugh, telling people he loved them often because he never wanted the first time he said it to you to be the last time. But they were also words that put the world's weight on Dustin and made him furious that Eddie had died a hero, and the only person that knew that was him.

Steve wasn't sure what to do, so he focused on what he couldn't do and worked from there. He couldn't bring Eddie back to life for Dustin. He couldn't make Dustin forget about Eddie. He couldn't convince Dustin that Eddie wouldn't want this. He couldn't turn back time and drag Eddie's corpse back with them because Steve rightly chose the living, breathing Dustin, and they were running for their lives.

Steve will never forget how his name rang across that twisted trailer park. A guttural plea from Dustin for the impossible, all wrapped up in "Steve."

He'd run towards the sound forgetting altogether about Nancy and Robin. They could make their own way.

He had to get to Dustin.

The place shook around him. Things were crumbling and cracking. He didn't know how much time he had. He didn't know what might come for them next. Vecna's body was missing.

He just knew he had to get to Dustin.

Steve had never run that fast in his life. The pain seared through his body, but he pushed passed it.

"Steve. Please!!" a sobbing, desperate cry for help that Steve would answer or die trying.

Then the scene opened up in front of him. He hadn't meant to stop running, but the visual stopped him in his tracks.

A mass of dead monstrosities encircled a shuddering heap on the ground. He was too late. Steve shut his eyes for a second and pinched his nose before running his hand down his face. Now was not the time for tears, Harrington.

He resumed his run, "Dustin!" he shouted, but there was no acknowledgment.

A few steps away from the increasing in detail scene before him. Dustin's face finally looked up at him. His eyes were almost swollen shut from crying, his little hands gripped onto Eddie, his knuckles white, and painfully Steve noticed one of Eddie's hands on Dustin, but it wasn't holding on tight. It had fallen. Lifeless.

Steve locks eyes with Dustin and crouches down to his level.

"Steve, please" this time, it's a quiet but no less desperate plea, as Dustin's fists grip so tightly onto Eddie's clothing that he almost lifts him off the ground, offering him up to Steve.

Steve wanted to say he didn't have time, that it was pointless, but he couldn't. He couldn't not try. Steve frantically recalled his first aid training from lifeguarding. He quickly held Eddie's face in his hands, his skin cold and pallid. Steve remembers looking into those dull eyes that not hours ago had been sparkling with hope. Steve goes through the motions of CPR, but he knows it's entirely in vain.

Munson, you idiot, I told you don't be a hero.

"Come on, Eddie. Please," Dustin sobbed, his hands clasped around one of Eddie's hands.

Steve kept trying until another rumble shook the ground. His hands move from Eddie to Dustin's shoulders, pushing him backward, forcing their eyes to meet.

"We have to go now, Dustin. Let's all get out of here, ok?" Steve lifted Eddie to a sitting position, both he and Dustin still crouched down, an arm each around Eddie's back, and draped one of Eddie's arms around them, "Ok, on three. Ready? 1, 2, 3!"

On the three, Steve felt the enormous weight of a body that could not support itself. He felt like it was impossible Eddie could have weighed anything close to this. Then he heard a crunch and a piercing yelp from Dustin as he fell to the ground. A lifeless Eddie threatened to follow, but Steve just about managed to grab him in time, quickly lowering him to the floor and moving to check over Dustin's leg.

Another rumble shook the ground, and Steve locked eyes with Dustin and frantically tried to hoist him up from the floor, but there was resistance.

"No, no, no!! Steve!!" Dustin yelled out, "We can't leave him!!"

Steve didn't respond with any words. He used all his might to tear Dustin away from Eddie by lifting him off the floor almost over his shoulder. There was an audible snap of something, but Steve did not look back. Dustin screams for Eddie ripped through the upside down and painfully into Steve's ear and heart.

Steve's brain shut it out. It was the only way he could keep it together. All he heard for a while was his own breathing, his own pulse, and his feet pounding the floor to get back home.

He didn't have time to think about how this decision might come back to haunt him over and over, but he had no choice.

He had to save Dustin.

Steve's eyes return to focus on his current surroundings, casting his eyes down to the dirty, worn carpet. Barely keeping it together in places as the threads clung to one another in a last-ditch attempt to remain a floor covering.

He gets up, turns the tv up louder, grabs a mug from the cupboard, and pours maybe the eighth coffee today. He doesn't know. He doesn't count anymore. He has as many as he needs to keep going.

Steve feels a sting of pain in his throat and his sides. It's psychosomatic, he told himself, just before the second wave of burning pain. He thumps the cupboard overhead hard and keeps back any noises his body wants to emit. He's not trying to be quiet. He just doesn't want them to win. Pretend it's not happening. But it gets what it wants.

His mind sends him back to a relatively safe place in Hawkins. He's sitting at Dustin's bedside. Dustin will not look at him. Steve was pretty sure he had only got in here because he turned up with everyone else to visit, but he outstayed them all.

He reaches his hand out to Dustin's arm, and it's pulled out of his reach sharply. Steve remembers taking a deep breath, one to push his tears back, but two so he doesn't lose his temper.

Steve understood why Dustin was mad, but Dustin couldn't understand that it was the only choice Steve could make.

"Dustin, come on, man. I know you're pissed at me. I get it. I do." Steve tried gently. He wanted Dustin back on his side, but more than anything, he wanted Dustin to stop beating himself up about it.

Dustin folded his arms, his eyes glancing at the ceiling, still avoiding Steve, "You don't get it. You don't know what it feels not to be strong enough. If I could have held him up, we could have got him home, Steve. Maybe Nancy or-or-or Robin could have held him up." then the tears came, "Jesus Christ, Eddie. Why?" Dustin roughly rubbed the tears from his eyes like he wasn't allowed them.

Steve hung his head, resting his hand on the mattress. His fingers were still reaching out. "That's just not true. We have no way of knowing how far we could have gotten with a-a weight to carry like that. I was struggling. Nance and Robin would have been in the same position."

He raised his head to look at Dustin again, "And you know full well how many times I've had my ass handed to me. How many fights I've lost, mistakes I've made. You didn't do anything wrong, Dustin. This is not your fault." Steve tried to drive those words home, but all it earned him was Dustin turning his body away from him more.

Steve was clutching at straws. He was sure that what he did next might have gotten him cut off like some of the others. Thankfully, in the end, Steve had a use in the future.

"Eddie would have done the same," Steve reassured Dustin and, in some way himself.

Then he had Dustin's eyes on him, but how he wished he could erase that look from his memory.

It started with a turn. An eyebrow flash, eyes wide full of fear and pain. It winded Steve like no physical blow ever had.

In hindsight, It was a look of heartbreak and disbelief. Steve had just let him down, broken his heart. Broken the pedestal Dustin still had him placed on even though he was mad. It was a look that read. You too, Steve? An ultimate betrayal.

Unfortunately, at that moment, Steve misread that look. He thought he finally had Dustin's attention and understanding, so he continued to reassure him.

"From what you told me. Those things were gonna break down the door, maybe swarm the gate, maybe even get through. At you. Eddie wouldn't let that happen. So he tried to lead them away. Leaving the gate clear for all of us, but he didn't want you to follow him. And you know those precious seconds kept those things from coming back to the house too. In his mind, he was keeping us all safe, " then it just falls out of Steve's mouth, "Even though I specifically asked you both not to do that."

Dustin's eyes narrowed spitefully and refilled with fresh tears, but these were ones Steve caused, "Get. Out." Dustin says firmly.

Steve sat there in disbelief. He had just tried to express he understood Eddie and that he believed Eddie was a hero, but all Steve could manage was a confused look, and he almost laughed or scoffed, "What?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of here!!" Dustin's voice is being forced through his teeth with venom. The tone sends Steve back to that boat shed. "Don't bullshit me, man!"

"Dustin, hey, I'm on your side," Steve attempted to soothe him and reassure him, "Eddie wouldn't have wanted you to get hurt or put in any danger."

"Don't talk like that," Dustin seethed, "You don't know him. You don't know him like I do" punctuating his words, Dustin poked himself hard in the center of his chest.

"Hey, settle down." Steve puts his hands on the sides of Dustin's upper arms with some pressure. Dustin tried to wriggle free, but Steve made him still so that he would hear him, "You're right. I didn't know him. Not like you, but he told me all about you, and I saw him with you. That man adored you."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!!!" Dustin yells; it verges on a scream as he forcefully shoves Steve away.

Steve remembers being so confused at the time, "Dustin, I am trying here. I can't tell you enough. I'm on your side, ok? Look at me. I'm not lying."

"THEN STOP TALKING ABOUT EDDIE LIKE HE'S DEAD!!" Dustin's face crumples, and he lets out a grunt of frustration, throwing a glass against the wall and smashing it. It wasn't aimed at Steve. It wasn't even close.

The sharp intake of breath Steve did in realisation overwhelmed him entirely, and he couldn't hold back his tears this time, so he hid them.

Steve flung his arms around Dustin, squeezing him tightly to him, a hand clasped at the back of his head, as his whole body shook with violent sobs. Steve's chin rests on Dustin's shoulder, leaning their heads against one another.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Steve repeats over and over, squeezing Dustin tightly. Steve's own tears were streaming down his face now. The dam had burst, and he couldn't stop them.

Then he realises he's not being pushed away anymore; he's being pulled in. Dustin squeezes him so tightly, stroking the back of Steve's hair, "I got you, Steve. I got you, man."

Steve has to stop himself from lurching forward and crumbling into Dustin completely.

In between trying to catch his breath, Dustin says, "Wayne said he thinks he's going mad. Says he can hear him sometimes, calling for him." Dustin's body is almost convulsing as he tightens his arms around Steve.

"I told him a lie. I told him I did too. I told him it was some psychological bullshit. Your brain tricks your senses, making you think something is there that isn't." Dustin whimpers, "But that's just not true. The same thing happened to Joyce and Will. It happened to us."

Steve stopped crying, like a switch in him flipped. He couldn't do anything a few minutes ago, but now he could do what he does best. Harrington was gonna save the day.

He pulled back, clasping his hands around Dustin's face, fighting back the emotions with a promise, "I'm gonna find him, and I'm going to bring him home. You hear me?"

His brain lets him claw his way back to the present. He opens the cupboard, grabs a handful of painkillers, and washes them down with his coffee.

That's how he'd ended up here, scouring what was left of Hawkins, following Dustin's suggestions or leads. The only evidence they'd found was the bandana and his spear and shield.

Steve layers up, adorning himself with as many weapons as possible that won't burden him if he needs to run. He swings his trusty bat over his shoulder, pulls Eddie's bandana over his mouth and nose, and steps outside to start another search.

"Eddie??!" he calls out, but he only gets the familiar reply. A chorus of hideous screeches.

#eddie munson #eddiemunson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #steveharrington #steve harrington #steeeeeeveharrington #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fan fiction #dustinhenderson #dustin henderson

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lambourngb · 3 years

Text

a skeleton of something more [2/6]

previously here. malex wip fic. a short serial leading up the premiere.

spoilers for the trailer and promo, will be instantly AU. If I’m going to the trouble of writing a malex fix-it for the season 3 opener, why not fix 2x13 too?

**** THEN ****

After Alex closed Tripp’s journal, he met Michael’s gaze across the table at the Crashdown.

His golden-brown eyes were heavy with pain, the reminder of how his mother’s story had ended was still fresh between them despite the span of months since the fiery end of Caulfield. What had resulted in being the fiery end of them, even though Alex hadn’t known it at the time. The look of sleeplessness in Michael’s face reminded Alex, that outside of this small piece of Nora, he had the weight of Maria still in the hospital recovering from the pathogen Flint had released. The press of the Deep Sky ring in his pocket warred with the hesitation to place one more burden on Michael, would the abacus of their fragile friendship balance out?

He flashed to that last argument in Michael’s bunker, a disaster of his own making, thinking he could believe in his father, but thankfully harm was averted at Crashcon. That recent memory was motive enough for Alex to decide. Whatever happened next, he needed Michael on the same page with him.

As Isobel moved to leave the table, explaining to Michael that she needed to check on Max, Alex held Michael’s gaze deliberately. Then he folded his fingers down, until the last three fanned out in a downward W.

“After what happened with Maria, maybe you should come with me, Michael. You can help me shake some sense into Max,” Alex heard, tuning back into Isobel’s voice. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, a crease of suspicion wrinkling her upturned nose, as she stopped on him. “It’ll be a good distraction.”

Without looking at Isobel, Michael’s eyes remained trained on Alex’s hand. “No, thanks, I’m good here. I’ve had my fill of stubborn ass people who don’t want to listen to sensible advice from me, so I’ll catch up with you later, Isobel.”

She made a dismissive huff but did not argue, leaving with the barest semblance of a polite goodbye to Alex, but that was typical Isobel Evans. Michael waited until his sister was on the other side of the door, before speaking quietly, his gaze finally moving up from Alex’s hands to his face. “I haven’t seen you flash that sign to me in years.”

“Glad to know you haven’t forgotten it.”

“You, making the ‘wait for me, I want you now’ signal? Nah, that’s been burned into my brain over the years.” Michael said it with a faint trace of bitterness. “I guess news travels fast, Maria only dumped my ass this morning.”

Alex winced and looked down, swallowing the surprise and spark of hope that welled in his throat at that disclosure. It was better to concentrate on the unique talent he had of stepping on landmines around Michael, than wonder about what had happened with Maria. It looked like he was still good at causing harm without intention, judging by the stung bite in Michael’s voice. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Michael cut off his apology firmly with a wave of his hand, calling a time-out. Alex waited, his teeth pressed into his lower lip as Michael rubbed his eyes with a weary half-smile. “I’m being an asshole right now, and that’s not fair to take it out on you. It’s been a shitty day already, and — anyway, … you definitely know how to get my attention, Alex.” He tilted his head, self-deprecation on his face, “for better or worse, you’ve always been good at that.”

It had been the sign they had developed whenever their paths had crossed over the years while Alex had been on leave in Roswell, but it had started that summer after high school. After Michael’s hand had healed poorly from Jesse, the last three fingers had been left frozen in a claw, it had been a shared fuck-you to his dad to use it to form their own secret communication. A three-fingered W, turned upward meant it wasn’t a good time, and he would find Michael later; turned downward, well, that meant it was safe to approach him, and it had often ended in a hurried blowjob in his car. Perhaps he should have used more care in using it now, but Michael wasn’t the only one running on the fumes of insomnia and stress. “Sorry, I needed to talk to you, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave with Isobel-”

“It’s fine, really. It’s not a bad memory either, remembering that we had our little secret language.” Michael wiggled his fingers in reassurance, his left hand still wrapped with a bandanna. “I can make that signal a hell of a lot easier now, too. But anyway, what did you need?”

There was still a voice inside Alex’s head that said ‘you’, no matter how long it had been. He shoved that down deep, along with his curiosity about Maria, and concentrated on his purpose. “Your advice on something, and then if it’s not too much to ask, your help.”

“Anything.”

Alex blinked, nonplussed by the easy acceptance.

Michael gestured encouragingly, “seriously, anything, just tell me what’s going on because the way you’re hemming and hawing, it is freaking me out.” Suddenly, all expression washed out of Michael’s face as a horrible thought occurred to him. “Did you get deployed or something?”

“Not exactly, not how you’re thinking,” he winced at the earned glare from Michael as he continued to stall while the words still tripped and fumbled around his mouth, heedless to the mounting frustration between them both. He sighed, and regrouped. Pushing the closed journal aside, Alex dug into his pocket and laid the signet ring on the table before Michael. “Let me start at the beginning, I found this in my dad’s things.”

“Jesse never seemed like a jewelry kind of guy to me.” Michael picked up the ring, examining it closely with a sarcastic smirk. “Other than parading around town with that wedding ring, when everyone knows your mom left him back during the Bush years, Dubya that is.”

“My father is all, was all, about appearances.” Alex placed the photo of the group on the table, sliding it over to him. “That ring marked his membership in this paramilitary group called Deep Sky. Every man in that photo worked at Caulfield, at one time or another.” He tapped his finger over the face of his father, then moved it to the right. “That’s my dad, and that is Ricky Long.”

Michael frowned, pulling the picture closer to squint at the faces. “Wyatt’s dad?”

“No, Forrest’s.”

“Nazi guy? Seriously?” He rubbed at his chin, the stubble longer than usual painting his jawline. Alex dragged his eyes away with effort as Michael considered that information. There was a reluctant understanding in his eyes, having recalled that Forrest Long wasn’t just ‘Nazi Guy’ to Alex, but someone who had expressed interest in Alex. Personal interest. “I guess that’s something you guys have in common then, dirtbag dads.”

He didn’t look thrilled to admit that to Alex, but it was a mark of how far they had both come as friends that Michael had said it anyway regardless. It was kind of him. It was the same type of empathy Alex had extended toward Michael, when he had expressed interest in Maria. Cut open, bleeding under his skin from all the ways he had squandered his own chances, he had said something similar to Michael once upon a time. That was what love was all about. Then he had kept saying it, until he believed it most days because wanting Michael to be happy was the easier ask.

It was a gracious sentiment that was entirely wasted by Michael when it came to Forrest Long.

“It would be, uh, something to bond over, if I hadn’t noticed that Forrest wears the same ring now.”

Michael’s eyes sharpened. “Family heirloom or do you think he worked at Caulfield?”

“I don’t know, but he is an ex-Army vet.” Alex tapped the photo of the members gathered together, “That was part of what I’ve been looking into, identifying everyone who worked at Caulfield right until the end. As for Deep Sky, I don’t know if it’s military service, Caulfield, or a family legacy that ties every member together, I just know that Dad kept in touch with those who were involved at the prison.”

“Makes sense, Jesse was able to get a hold of the atomizer and pathogen that Charlie developed from somewhere. For all of his strutting around at Crashcon with a uniform on, that didn’t look like it was an official use of government property.”

“Right, it definitely wasn’t, and before you tell me to leave it alone-” Alex began, remembering Michael’s response to the investigation into 1947. He had considered Alex’s actions back then to be an act of futility, something that could only hurt by being revisited. The past being the past, unable to be altered.

This time Michael cut him off, “No, I was wrong about that. I, um, I finally realized that just because I don’t see you connected to that place or the rest of your family, doesn’t mean you don’t. And while I wish that you didn’t, Alex, if digging into this gives you some sort of peace over it, then do it.”

Alex looked down, feeling the weight of relief that Michael understood. After his father’s body had been removed, after the questions and lies had been spun, he had spent the entire night sleepless over having been made into an effective weapon to force Michael’s compliance. Helena had known where all the weak spots were thanks to Flint, and had armed herself with a depowering agent. Once Flint was recovered, there was nothing stopping him from employing a similar tactic in the future.

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, it might as well be you.” Michael had once declared with a bold carelessness that had infuriated and terrified Alex at the time, but that was nothing compared to now having a lived experience to back it up. His mind had easily used the memory of Maria’s collapse after the faintest exposure at the Crashcon and had exchanged her with Michael, being torn apart molecule by molecule, by an invisible threat.

Give him an enemy that he could see any day, especially one that bled.

“I’ve been fighting so long, I don’t know what peace looks like anymore.” Alex held out his hand for the ring, and Michael gently laid it in his palm, brushing his fingertips over Alex’s skin. A lifetime of controlling himself kept the reaction off his face as he rubbed his thumb over the raised emblem of Deep Sky. “But I have learned recently that when something seems too good to be true, it is.”

Neither of them mentioned Jesse and his performance from the last few months, but Michael frowned again, “Wait a second, you think Forrest targeted you on purpose?”

“A member of a secret paramilitary organization just happens to ask me out after I was involved in the destruction of Caulfield? You really think that’s a coincidence?” Alex raised his eyebrow skeptically at Michael, before looking out the window to watch the pedestrians on the street.

“I think you’re the hottest guy in Roswell, so I’m not surprised he asked you out.” Michael flushed a little when Alex turned back to stare at him in surprise over the flattering comment. “Seriously, you’re a catch, but I will agree, it’s not a good look that he’s got that ring. But maybe it’s crap he wears because of his dad, and he’s got no idea he’s parading around?”

“You’re being awfully generous.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Because last time I checked, you were the one telling me that I should have faith in people, even if they give me no reason to.” Michael flattened his hands on the table, drawing Alex’s attention to the bandanna on his hand again. That damn fight kept echoing between them to Alex’s dismay, but Michael didn’t let him linger over it, “While I stand by what I said about Jesse, ‘cause he messes us both up, all I know about Forrest Long is that he is way too interested in Nazi history and he has good taste in guys.” Michael wetted his lips, nervously to tack on, “I also know that I trust you, and your instincts, so if you say there’s something not right about him, then I believe you.”

“There’s something not right about him,” Alex repeated seriously.

“Then I believe you, so what do you need me to do?”

“He wants to get close to me for some reason, probably related to what I know about aliens, so I’m going to let him. And I need you to back me up in case something goes wrong, and maybe use that lock pick you have in your brain?” Alex waited until Michael nodded in agreement, feeling the swell of gratitude at his support. Anyone else would probably think he was being paranoid, or that this was a delayed reaction to his father trying to kill them, but Michael, for all of his previous counter-arguments, had never truly believed in the good of humanity. Maybe in a few days, Alex would feel guilty in relying on that. Maybe in a few days, his suspicions about Forrest would be eliminated.

“He’s involved in running the open mike night at the Wild Pony with Maria, so I thought maybe I could perform a song or something? He drives a Prius, and while he’s listening to me sing, you could slip out mid-song and insert this into the code reader of his car.”

On the table was a small device that mimicked a thumb drive, small and black. It was the type of technology that Alex had used in the Air Force, tracking terrorists abroad. It had taken a fair amount of searching to purchase the equivalent stateside to have on hand. Michael picked it up curiously, turning over his hands.

“It’s designed to download the GPS history of his car,” Alex explained, before rubbing the back of his head in thought. “That’s how I uncovered what my dad was up to, first by tracking his movements. If I let Forrest take me home, I can gain access to his laptop and phone.”

Michael furrowed his brow in concern, “You’re really willing to go that far? And what if he is involved in something shady, what then?”

“My father and brother both used me to get to you, there’s really nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that from happening again and if it means playing along with this guy, letting him lead me to the members of Deep Sky? Then I will.” If anything, his words only deepened the concern on Michael’s face, but Alex had been committed for a long time. Since the red level threat. Since the short ride to the recruitment office. Maybe as far back as his guitar going missing in the music room.

“I’ve slept with guys for worse reasons.”

CONTINUED HERE

#Malex #roswell new mexico #malex fic #alex goes undercover #not forrest long friendly #getting back together #Season 3 speculation

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hamliet · 3 years

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Chemical Weddings in RWBY

So once upon a time Hamliet said she’d write a meta about ships in RWBY, and then arrived months later without Starbucks.

The central tenet of alchemy is solve et coagula: dissolve, and then coagulate. The process (RWBY appears to be following Ripley’s 12 Gates) repeats, rinses, and repeats again and again throughout the steps, “each time at a more refined level.” The point of a chemical wedding is to reconcile opposites, which is something I touched on in my pseudo-quick meta here. Lyndy Abraham, the author of A Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery, describes the chemical wedding as:

a crucial operation in the creation of the philosopher’s stone. The alchemists were ultimately concerned with the union of substances, the reconciliation of opposites.

Basically, it unites opposites (fire and water, air and earth, sun and moon, passive and active, etc., etc., etc.) and then the opposites start to take on each other’s qualities, creating the “Rebis,” or a person both male and female.

The first chemical wedding is usually somewhat violent, primitive even, whereas the second one signifies the creation of the stone. However, characters can have more than two weddings, and chemical weddings do not inherently have to be romantic--Sam and Frodo aren’t, for example--but most often are, because it’s the most obvious way to show a union between separate people (the old adage “two become one” in marriage, for example).

If we look at George Ripley’s 12 Gates, chemical weddings tend to be focused on in the fourth stage of conjunction (which I wrote about here) and in the ninth, fermentation (which is probably going to be in volume 10--maybe a little in volume 9, but traveling between worlds seems to be a hallmark of sublimation in fiction so I’m guessing we’re stuck there for the time being). But in a lengthy series spanning eight years and counting, there is going to be overlap.

So let’s talk about chemical wedding imagery historically. It tends to involve dissolution (via water or fire--keep in mind metal was associated with fire in olden days, so stabbing with metal was considered liquid fire, or so it was believed to be by alchemists) and then coagulation (healing/coming together).

Four of the five ships--two of whom are definitely happening, one of which I think is happening and one of which I think has a good chance--reference historical alchemical artwork and symbolism in key moments. (RWBY does reference alchemical artwork; see here and here.) So let’s dive in and examine potential chemical wedding allusions in RWBY:

Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie (Renora)

Let’s start with the most obvious couple: Ren and Nora. Their first chemical wedding occurs when they are children. In alchemical art, birds are often used to show the volatility/primitiveness of a first chemical wedding:

The raven is replicated in the Nevermore which forms a similarly threatening pose over Ren and Nora when he unlocks his semblance to protect her, thus honoring his father and mother’s legacies.

You can even see earth (trees), water (river), fire, and air (the bird flying) in the scene as it pans out. After this, Ren and Nora become “Ren and Nora,” as Nora herself says in Volume 8. They’re inseparable, because they’re on their way to becoming one. However, unification doesn’t mean that they’re literally the same person; in stories like these, it’s more like they become better versions of themselves through growing towards each other and adopting each other’s traits (like Nora’s courage for Ren, and Ren’s caution for Nora).

Their second, elevated chemical wedding is in the same place as their first, when in Volume 4 they return to the village and defeat the monster they were too young to defeat last time. This time, Nora is the one who protects Ren by telling him he could not sacrifice his life by pulling Ren back, in a reversal of his running to her in their first moment years ago.

Like the first, there’s water involved--Ren and Nora hide next to a river, watching as the Knuckelvee advances on them. I talked previously how I thought this looked like a possible allusion to this alchemical image (look at the moon symbol on the head of the aggressor):

The moon symbol actually shows up quite a bit in this scene, first when Nora and Ren discover the Nuckelvee is still alive in the cave:

And then in the moment when they defeat it:

While I am certain this is a chemical wedding, I’m not certain why the moon symbol is so prominent in this, though I do think it is possibly in reference to this image and how Nora and Ren are united now:

Yang Xiao Long/Blake Belladonna (Bumbleby)

Firstly, the alchemy image is somewhat of a creepy image, right? In this, Mercurius has united the two principles by beheading them (amputation is a Thing in alchemy), leaving them to putrefy and then coagulate.

Like the Nuckelvee for Nora and Ren, Blake and Yang have a somewhat antagonistic Mercurius who unites them: Adam Taurus. He doesn’t cut off their heads, but he does seriously injure Blake and cuts off Yang’s arm in a scene that is romantically charged (you have Blake’s possessive ex telling her he’ll target someone she loves and specifically chooses Yang).

While I have my issues with how Bumbleby is written, it’s hard to interpret that as anything other than him seeing Yang as a rival for Blake’s affection.

Their second chemical wedding also involves Adam. There’s no one direct image that seems to have inspired it, but it does take place in a place full of waterfalls (fountains and flowing water in general, like the ones in Nora and Ren’s village, are common elements of chemical weddings’ settings) and by the ocean (the “mercurial sea” is where the elements dissolve to make the Philosopher’s Stone, so it’s also a common hallmark for chemical weddings).

(To briefly address this: this is where my complaints about the writing pile in, because you can also make a damn strong case that Blake and Sun fighting on the ship to Menagerie is a chemical wedding, which it is, but I think it’s clear at this point that Bumbleby is endgame. Either both were written for a reason, like if they weren’t sure if they could do Bumbleby, or a narrative reason, in which case Black Sun should have been dealt with rather than hand-waved away, or they were just teasing, but baiting fans is never, ever good writing; it’s cheap. All that to say that while I think there’s a compelling case they were interested in pursuing Bumbleby from the start, Black Sun shippers have a right to feel tricked and not all criticism thereof is based in homophobia or a lack of narrative understanding, or even in a dislike of the ship.)

At the beginning of this scene, Adam makes it clear that this is a redo of their previous chemical wedding by reminding them of it:

Blake stabs Adam with a silver weapon; Yang with red. We have earth, air (clouds), water, and weapons as a stand-in for fire.

It’s still somewhat of a violent wedding, which makes me wonder if Bumbleby will have a third (and Renora as well). But it also parallels Renora in this: returning to a pivotal scene where they were traumatized, but this time being able to overcome it because they’ve become more like each other. Blake is in many ways Yang’s trauma stretching far beyond Beacon (Blake runs away, as does Raven, Yang’s mother who abandoned her), and likewise Yang for Blake (she’s hotheaded and holds grudges, like Adam). But Blake and Yang have been working on becoming better versions of themselves.

At the end of this scene, they even exchange quasi-wedding vows (since Blake’s promise is to not abandon Yang):

And the artists drive home the point by drawing Blake’s hair far bushier than normal (more like Yang’s), and Yang’s far tamer than normal (like Blake’s).

Jaune Arc/Weiss Schnee (White Knight)

Weiss and Jaune have had one chemical wedding thus far (possibly two but not sure) and I didn’t ship them at all until I saw this scene. Like Bumbleby and Renora, they have an antagonistic Mercurius: Cinder.

(This one I’ll be arguing a little bit about why I think it’s set up for romance as well.)

In this scene, Cinder directly compares Weiss to Pyrrha in regards to how Jaune feels about them (and we know Jaune and Pyrrha were romantic--you can also argue Cinder was an antagonistic Mercurius uniting Pyrrha and Jaune).

When Weiss screams, Cinder gets an idea and slides her gaze from Weiss to Jaune.

And then reenacts this:

As I also mentioned previously, Jaune then plays the role of the Prince to Weiss’s Snow White (which is an alchemical fairy tale). Like when Ren unlocks his aura to protect Nora, Jaune unlocks his to save Weiss. Weiss looks as if she is in a glass coffin that gets more and more golden, symbolic of refinement.

It’s also probably an allusion to this image of a chemical wedding presided over by Saturn (Mercury in this scene, since he’s there) and Death (Ruby and Qrow, who are also present in the scene with Jaune and Weiss). (For more on this image, see here.)

Weiss and Jaune also have some oppositional imagery and arcs: Weiss starts Beacon with a deep family legacy and an inherited semblance, she chooses to go to Beacon on her own and is the favored child (at first). Jaune too has a family legacy of warriors, but instead of feeling empowered because of this, he is insecure and literally cheats his way into the school. He doesn’t have a semblance until season 5. After this incident, Weiss and Jaune spend some time recreationally together (seeing a movie in vol 7); Jaune becomes more confident as a leader, and Weiss continues her arc in becoming more sympathetic to those from less privileged backgrounds.

Arguably, what happened at the end of volume 8 could be seen as having some symbolism of a chemical wedding for Weiss and Jaune too, but I don’t think it actually is one since they weren’t focused on as characters enough (if this was intended to be the start of one, we’ll get something next season, I’d imagine). The only reason I’m mentioning it is because it does function as an inverse of the previous one, which is the case for Renora and Bumbleby’s first and second weddings too. Cinder again almost kills Weiss (she falls in the exact same position as in vol 5), but Jaune saves Weiss when he screams after killing Penny. Instead of saving Weiss by healing, he kills. There’s also some distinctive red and white imagery.

And then Winter arrives with a six-pointed star and birds before telling them to run together:

But again, I wouldn’t really call this one; it just has some imagery of one and fits a pattern, so I’m including it as a potential lead-in to an actual one in the void or later.

Ruby Rose/Oscar Pine (Rosegarden)

Like with Weiss/Jaune, I’ll be arguing a little bit about why I think this one is likely to end up romantic, too (for example, Cinder most recently in volume 8 used Oscar to taunt Ruby in a callback to using Pyrrha and Weiss to taunt Jaune).

Also: oh look, finally a wedding that isn’t violent. They just... meet. Which is also normal for a chemical wedding but less dramatic.

Behold, the bird uniting the solar king and lunar queen:

(Fun fact: unless CRWBY came up with ship names which I highly, highly doubt, this is pure coincidence, but it’s a funny one: the art series this image is taken from is called Rosarium Philosophorum--which literally means “rose garden philosophy.”)

Let’s look at the scene where Ruby and Oscar meet for the first time. What makes this a chemical wedding is in part how obvious their markings are and the overall imagery is in the scene.

They are united by Qrow (who in addition to being named after a bird can literally transform into a bird):

Oscar asks about Ruby specifically (yes, I know because Qrow’s her uncle, but the writing is telling us to focus on his relationship with her):

And immediately notes/is in awe that she has silver eyes (i.e. the moon):

Qrow seems to realize he’s done something momentous in a way that almost doesn’t entirely work within the frame of the narrative (but he is drunk, so).

The scenery of this room is also telling. The table is literally an Emerald Table, the legendary foundation of alchemy itself.

Once they sit and talk, behind Oscar are the elements of earth and water, which he represents, and also the moon, which while traditionally associated with earth and water, he does not (at least not as strongly as he’s associated with the sun/gold):

Similarly, behind Ruby we have the elements of fire and air (like, if you zoom in, they actually drew air), which she is marked as, and the sun, which again, she’s not as strongly associated with as she is with the moon:

In Splendor Solis, which CRWBY has referenced before, the Solar King does eventually end up grounded in the moon, and likewise the Lunar Queen in the sun:

Oscar and Ruby also do have oppositional arcs and roles: Ruby starts the series in the very first episode by being invited to Beacon two years early because of her leaping into action to stop Torchwick. She’s scolded for her recklessness, but immediately picked out as special because of her silver eyes. In contrast, Oscar is reluctant to leave his farm once Ozpin inhabits him; he refuses at first, and then once he does leave, is nervous and timid.

Anyways I wouldn’t be surprised if Qrow arrives in Vacuo with RWBYJ in tow and this time reunites Ruby with Oscar in an inverse. We’ll see.

I do want to say that I also see potential for Emerald Sustrai/Mercury Black, in that they often act as one and share a theme song, but I haven’t seen any actual visual references to a chemical wedding for them... yet.

#rwby meta #rwby theory #rwby volume eight #rwby vol 8 #rwby volume 8 #rwby volume 9 #weiss schnee #jaune arc #ruby rose #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #lie ren #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #alchemy #rosegarden #bumbleby #renora #white knight

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rivalsforlife · 3 years

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Do you have anything you wished was different from Ace Attorney canon?

Hello I'm finally slowly starting to get around to answering some of these! Sorry for the wait.

Uh this ask got super long so a basic summary of it: narumitsu being canon in a well-written way would be nice even though I don't think it would ever happen, I stand by not bringing back Phoenix as a main protagonist in DD, and I'd also want to rewrite all of SOJ so that Apollo goes to Khura'in in place of Phoenix, to have more interesting character stuff going on.

So the longer answer is this:

Aside from some of the actually problematic stuff that I don't feel qualified to talk about, story-wise, I answered a sort of similar question about a year ago here. I have changed my opinions a little bit since then, particularly with regards to the canonicity of narumitsu... because while I do love narumitsu I feel like I don't trust Ace Attorney to actually do it properly. After all if this past November has taught us anything "making a ship canon" could actually be quite undesirable and I have no desire to see Phoenix and/or Edgeworth sent to superhell. (I literally know nothing else about supernatural sorry about that.)

If capcom were somehow able to make narumitsu canon but in an unobtrusive way and as a natural progression of the storyline, like oh hey, the court record profile for Miles Edgeworth's Obligatory Last-Case Appearance has Phoenix mention they're dating, and maybe there's a few lines suggesting they live with each other, but it's not like... taking the entire story to force them together and otherwise does not change the way they interact with each other and butcher one or both of their characterizations in the process? I'd definitely be happy about that. Not gonna lie even if they made narumitsu canon in the most terrible way possible I'd have a "holy shit I can't believe they did that it's the best day of my life" kind of moment before I could think about it critically. But I honestly see no chance of them ever actually making narumitsu canon, so that's quite unrealistic to hope for anyways.

Aside from that in that other ask I talked about basically the premise of an Apollo trilogy and not bringing back Phoenix as the main protagonist in DD, and I still stand by that, buuut in my other ask I did touch on making SOJ a different game where Apollo goes to Khura'in instead of Phoenix - and you know what I'm going to take some time to actually talk about my dream version of SOJ because there were a lot of little things about the one we got that I didn't like. And it's going to be very long. So it's under a cut.

SO yeah I talked about it a bit in the other ask. I think that Phoenix going to Khura'in is a rather weak idea both externally and in-universe. In one of the interviews, too lazy to find which one, Phoenix basically goes to Khura'in because the writers couldn't figure out how to challenge him anymore. ... And then they don't actually challenge him at all. Because oh well now we're going to this new country where they KILL DEFENSE ATTORNEYS WHO LOSE and then it's supposed to be *shocking* that Phoenix would risk his life for a kid or his best friend. you know the guy who ran across a burning bridge to save his best friend. you know the guy who got punched in the face, nearly killed by the mafia, and tazed trying to save his clients. This doesn't tell me anything new about Phoenix's character. His whole travel in Khura'in doesn't tell me anything new about Phoenix's character. Basically the only reason he's there is to see Maya - Maya who theoretically would be returning home in about two weeks. Maya who was still in her training for two more weeks when Phoenix visited so he wouldn't be able to see her anyways. ... And in the meantime Trucy had the biggest show of her life that was going to be on TV and Phoenix wasn't there for it. And of course Phoenix didn't return home after Trucy was accused of murder (yes he couldn't be there for the trial, but he definitely could have for the emotional support afterwards) and instead just sits for two weeks in Khura'in doing literally nothing after Ahlbi's trial.

(And yes I know about the anime prologue that has Phoenix think Maya's in danger... but that's not strictly canon since it's never mentioned in game, isn't technically a part of the game, and even still, why wouldn't he go home after knowing that Maya's safe and that Trucy had been ACCUSED OF MURDER. Honestly that's what makes me angriest about this whole thing is that it makes Phoenix out to be a terrible dad. We really don't need any more takes like that, especially not from canon.)

And what about Apollo, you may ask? Well, given case 5 of SOJ, Apollo actually has a personal link to Khura'in and ends up staying there afterwards... after being there for like a day or two. I should note here that it has been a while since I went through SOJ in its entirety so I am fuzzy on many of the details. But both through what I remember and some conversations with people who actually played the game recently, the motivation for Apollo to actually stay in Khura'in isn't that great. It mainly seemed like guilt about his dead dad who he hadn't been in contact with for years and had completely written off until a few days ago but oh he died and then went to go visit him so... better take up the law office!

If Apollo had gone to Khura'in in place of Phoenix and spent more time there, reconnecting with his childhood home and actually getting passionate seeing how corrupt the legal system is there (even though we have a corrupt legal system at home) and being driven to fix it, that would make for a stronger story, I think. The Khura'in plot is more personally focused around Apollo than it is Phoenix. Phoenix's connection to Khura'in is through Maya, but Maya doesn't really have much of a connection to it aside from "it's where spirit channeling is from and she trains there". But Apollo, I guess, grew up there. So it's so strange to me that they force all of Apollo's connection to Khura'in in the last case while Phoenix is running around doing who-knows-what for the rest of the game. Phoenix spends more time getting to know the state of Khura'in and the Defiant Dragons and case 3's whole thing but he isn't the one who in the end decides to sit down and fix it; that's all on Apollo. It almost feels like they forced one of the two plots in to everything. And it was probably conceived as a Phoenix story that they needed to fit Apollo into last minute because oops he's supposed to be a protagonist too.

Some other strengths to Apollo going to Khura'in include that it would shake up the character dynamics a bit. Instead of Phoenix defending Maya, it's Apollo defending Maya, and that's a particularly interesting thing to look at in the context of Khura'in's "we kill defense attorneys" system. Of course, Phoenix would risk his life to save Maya, 100%, every time. But what about Apollo, who hasn't met Maya, who only knows her as "Mr. Wright's former assistant" - would he risk his life for her? And I feel like Maya would argue more against him defending her because of that. "We're strangers, you don't know me, you don't have to risk your life defending me." (Sidenote that I was always upset that Maya didn't protest much when Phoenix offered to defend her, knowing his life was at risk - sure she knows him better and knows he's always been able to get her out of these situations, but at the same time, the fact that there was no "what about your daughter?" conversation sucks. I really wish SOJ wouldn't have like. completely forgotten about the phoenix-trucy father-daughterisms.)

Let's say Apollo goes to Khura'in. Phoenix stays at home. Phoenix gets a call from Apollo that's basically "uhh hi Mr. Wright you know your friend Maya, she's been arrested for murder, if I defend her and I lose we're both dead," then you can tie in to that moment in 6-2 where Phoenix (who can't make it in time for the trial!) believes in Apollo and his skills as an attorney, not just to save Maya's life, but also his own. It ties in a bit more to the overall challenge of defending someone at the risk of your own life. Again, Phoenix would have very few hesitations, if any, risking his life to defend Maya. Apollo may have more defending a stranger at the risk of his own life.

Then if you can actually have Apollo and Maya talk together that would be neat - Maya can tell him embarrassing stories about Phoenix's rookie days, for instance. Their dynamic would be quite a bit different from Phoenix and Maya's, and that would be an interesting thing to see, unlike what we have in SOJ where all of Maya's substantial interactions are with characters she already knows or brand new characters.

(It would also be pretty neat to know more spirit channeling politics and dive in more to Maya's perspective on Khura'in and also her role as upcoming Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique and where she plans to lead the village in the future and also reconcile with her family's bloody legacy, but I'm not quite sure how to fit that in right now.)

And how about Phoenix, back home in Japanifornia? Evidently he'd end up being in charge of defending Trucy. Now, I did love the siblingsisms in canon 6-2, but I feel like there is still potential for Phoenix defending Trucy. All of Apollo Justice has a bunch of good moments between Apollo and Trucy, and she's co-counsel on all his trials, but we've never had any substantial Phoenix and Trucy investigation or co-counsel moments. I feel like AU 6-2 would be a great opportunity to dive more into Phoenix and Trucy's relationship and how it may have changed after Phoenix got his badge back. Plus, Phoenix being "the only one who knows how she really feels on the inside", he'd have unique insider knowledge into some of the Gramarye stuff that comes up in the case and Trucy's personal connection to the Gramaryes, which Apollo knows a bit of, but Phoenix knows more of. ... Or at least, should know more of, given that he raised Trucy for nine years at this point and they're very close, and Phoenix knows her better than anyone else does, even if capcom has forgotten this.

... Of course having Athena defend the case would also be great because more Athena spotlight is never a bad thing, but it's hard to come up with a reason why Phoenix wouldn't be there to defend her. And doing more switcheroos in terms of role in the plot is a bit beyond the scope of what I have in mind right now. Sorry Athena.

Aside from that, Athena still gets Storyteller, Apollo still heads Turnabout Revolution, and Phoenix still gets the DLC case. Apollo stays in Khura'in in the end with a bit more to his motivations. Rather than it just being about carrying on Dhurke's legacy, it's also something Apollo is passionate about after all he witnessed here. While we're at it I'd still rework a lot of Turnabout Revolution to make it so that Phoenix genuinely believes in Atishon because that makes for sooo much more interesting of a plot and actual character development on Phoenix's part than "Maya was kidnapped again and Phoenix is only wrong when he has no other choice", but that'd require some more detail and this post is long enough already.

And in terms of other details that need to be sorted out, there's the question of why Apollo would need to go to Khura'in in the first place. I'd probably say something to do with Dhurke. Maybe he comes back a bit earlier - actually alive, maybe, though crossing borders would be a bit of a challenge, or he reaches out to Apollo remotely somehow and Apollo goes to yell in his face about abandoning him (or at least that's what he thinks he wants.) Then we could have some more Dhurke and Apollo bonding time, potentially? Idk, if you switch up Phoenix and Apollo you're pretty much writing a whole new game and obviously I have not worked out all the details, but I think if Capcom had tried to go with this route from the outset they'd have a stronger game. At least stronger character motivations.

So... yeah. Those are my opinions. If you read through this whole thing I'm very impressed because it got very long!

#asks #soj spoilers #aa6 spoilers

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depressedhatakekakashi · 3 years

Text

Kakashi Week- Day 2: Hatake Legacy/Au

My Father's Son

Words: 2662

AU: Mafia Au

@kakashiweek

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Mention of Sakumo's Death

Every time there was someone in need of rescuing from the precinct, without fail, Shikaku sent Kakashi. Even though he had an entire gang full of people that he could use, he always chose to send Kakashi.

Whether it was because Kakashi was able to make even the most seasoned cop tremble at the mere sight of him, or because he was somehow also able to smooth talk his way out of any sort of trouble he was faced with, he wasn’t quite sure. If he had an answer, he’d do something to fix it. To get Shikaku to send someone else, anyone else.

Just not him.

Climbing off of his motorcycle, he headed straight for the police station. As he made his way up the stairs, police officers who had been chatting to each other while watching him from afar scrambled to get out of his way. Desperate to put as much distance between them and Shikaku’s ‘Scarecrow’.

It was these moments that made these stupid little trips worth it. Seeing just how his reputation had bled into every corner of the city, and straight into the souls of cops. The people who would usually stand tall and proud, confident in their freedom to do as they please with the law supporting their actions.

“Pathetic,” he huffed, using his shoulder to shove the door open and stepping into a building that was all too familiar to him. Not just because of all the visits he had made in the past two years to pick up those unfortunate members of Shikaku’s gang who had been picked up by the cops. Sometimes because they had actually done something wrong, and sometimes just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was his job to find out which one it was today. If he had to drag an idiot out of there and scold them for getting caught, or if he was going to have to argue with a cop or two about why they actually weren’t allowed to just arrest someone and throw them into a cell for existing in a public space.

“Look who’s back,” A familiar redhead moved in front of him, her finger poking deep into his chest as she looked at him through the motorcycle helmet that he still wore. “You know the rules. No helmets on when you’re in the building.”

Swatting her hand away, Kakashi huffed. “And you know that I’m not taking it off,” he reminded her. “Can we stop wasting time, Kushina-San? You know I’m here to pick up the man you whisked off of the street in front of the coffee shop on 156th. I’d appreciate if we skipped the argument today and you just handed him over.”

“Mmm, sorry Can’t do that,” Crossing her arms over her chest, Kushina smirked up at him. “See, we actually have evidence on this one. His fingerprints were all over the knife we found at a crime scene a few days ago and…”

“Do you have enough proof for a conviction?”

“I…what?”

“You heard the question,” matching her stance, Kakashi watched as she narrowed her eyes. “Do you have enough proof for a conviction? If not, then you might as well release him. We all know you’re not going to find the proof.”

Kushina opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but before she could get a single word out a hand came down on her shoulder. Pulling both of their attention to the smiling blond now standing at her side. “Now, I think that’s a rather unfair assumption, but it doesn’t matter,” Minato responded with his usual cool demeanour. An attitude fitting a Police chief. “We can’t just release a suspect to you because you walk in here looking intimidating, Scarecrow-san.”

It was always interesting hearing the ‘San’ after his nickname. Like the Chief of Police was trying to show him some respect, even knowing that he was a member of Shikaku’s gang and a feared name among other gangs.

“And why can’t you?” he asked, dropping his hands to his side and resting the right hand on his hip. “If you have solid evidence against him, I’ll just bring him back.”

“And you think that’s enough?” Minato chuckled. “The word of a man that half of my officers would love to see behind bars?”

“Are you saying that you don’t trust me, Minato-san? I’m hurt. I thought we were starting to build a trusting, open relationship,” The sarcasm is so thick that he’s pretty sure even the dumbest cop in the room could hear it. “What if I give you my word? If you can actually produce evidence to prove he did something wrong, I’ll bring him back myself.”

After all, what use was a person if they weren’t careful enough to clean up after themselves? If what Kushina was saying was true, the bastard was already in trouble for leaving behind a knife with his prints. There’s no way that Yamato approved him for the big jobs before making sure he learned not to be a careless idiot.

“Again, that’s just words,” Minato sighed. “I have no proof that you’ll keep your word. For all I know, you’ll get him out of here and immediately transfer him far away so that we never see him again.”

Proof. That was a hard thing to come up with on the spot, and there was no doubt that Minato knew that. That he was counting on his failure to produce the kind of proof that would work for him. Something that would actually give him even the tiniest bit of trust in the man standing in front of him.

Glancing over the Police Chief's shoulder, Kakashi focused on the wall on the other side of the room. There, for everyone to see, a fine selection of pictures on display. Past chiefs that had done their duty and retired. Spending the rest of their days in a comfy home with family surrounding them until they finally died of old age. Each of them dressed up in their best uniform with a smile on their face and a proud look in their eyes.

Though there was one picture that stood out among them all.

It didn’t stand out because of the way the Police Chief looked in the picture. For any random passerby, he was the same as every other picture on the wall. A proud man doing his duty, protecting the city that he loved so much.

Behind the smile though, there was a story that only a few knew. One of a life cut short with bullets and blood. Of a child standing over his father’s body, blood staining his tiny fingers as he cried for help.

A story that was known among the officers of this station. Whispered among each other as they stared upon the child sitting outside of his father’s office waiting for someone to come pick him up. To claim guardianship over a boy who had lost everything, and had no one.

“I have proof,” he spoke softly, his hand leaving his hip and coming up to undo the buckle under his helmet. The room around him suddenly went quiet, all eyes turning towards him as he undid the buckle. Even Kushina had her full attention on him now, eyes wide as she watched him grab the underside of his helmet.

As he pulled the helmet off, his hair fell free. The long silver ponytail falling against his back was met with gasps, and as the helmet slides off he can feel the tension in the air. Thick enough that he’s certain he could cut it if he felt the urge.

“S-scarecrow…” Opening his eyes, he met Minato’s gaze. A soft smile on his face that looked nothing like the one in the picture. A smile he had been told many times growing up resembled his mother more than anyone. “I-“

“I think you know that’s the wrong name,” He offered, sunken eyes focused on the police chief. “Though, I guess you wouldn’t know any better, hmm?”

Scanning the room, he focused on one of the many cops that had been so afraid of him moments ago. Watching him with cautious eyes as he made his way into the station, and never letting him out of his sight.

“Ahhh, you’ll know it,” he smiled at the older man, chuckling when his words were met with stuttered confusion. “Come on, don’t tell me you forgot. It hasn’t been that long, has it?”

Twenty years. It would make sense if they had forgotten his name, it wasn’t like they had ever cared to remember it even when he made daily trips to the station before his father took him to his school. Most of them would simply pat his head and smile down at him, perhaps offering him a cup of water or a treat while he waited outside of the office while his father quickly sorted out his day.

“K-Kakashi.”

He was actually surprised to hear his name being spoken. Not just because someone managed to remember it, but because of who it was who had spoken it. Out of everyone in the room, he didn’t expect to hear his name from Kushina of all people.

“Kushina, how…”

Taking a step back, Kushina narrowed her eyes. Taking a moment to examine the silver-haired man standing in front of her. Almost as if she didn’t believe that he was real. “When we first started here people always talked about Chief Sakumo and his son,” she explained. “I heard so much about them that I got curious and decided to check out his old files. It didn’t take long to find information on the Chief’s death.”

Rolling his shoulders, Kakashi tried to force himself not to clench his jaw. To keep that same relaxed appearance he always had when he was in front of people. The last thing he wanted to do was show weakness.

To allow anyone in the room to know just how much it hurt, being reminded of his father’s end.

“You were listed as missing, presumed dead,” she growled. “You vanished from foster care when you were twelve.”

“I got bored,” he stated. “There was nothing interesting going on in that place, and the schools weren’t any better. What was I supposed to do? Hang around and become a cop like you?” his mouth burned when he spoke. Anger boiling inside of him. “I wasn’t going to sit around and wait to become another body on the floor.”

“And you think this is the escape you need from that?” Kushina bit back, taking a step forward and poking him in the chest. “You think that this is the life your old man would want for you?”

“Don’t-“

“Afraid of the truth?” She growled, swatting Minato’s hand away when he tried to grab her shoulder. “Scared to face the fact that you turned into the exact type of person your father would be ashamed of? The type of person who made him a body on the floor!?”

Calm shattered.

For the first time in years, Kakashi felt the anger he worked so hard to keep hidden deep inside of himself boiling over. Breaking through the calm facade that the ‘Scarecrow’ was so well known for.

Now wasn’t the time for anger though. The last thing he wanted to do was give Kushina and Minato a reason to put him behind bars. He had worked too hard to get where he was. Struggled and fought too much for his anger to be his downfall.

Taking a step back, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

One

The memories flooded his mind. His father’s smile, the way he’d put a hand in his hair and mess it up, the sound of his laughter. Memories Kakashi had tried so hard to bury. The ones that were better to forget.

Two

His heart beat slowed. Returning to a steady pace and easing the pain in his chest caused by the vibe grip that was his anger.

Three

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” He spoke calmly, opening his eyes to meet Kushina’s gaze. The anger still boiling deep inside of him. Fighting to get out even as he tried to push it back down into hiding. “He’s not here.”

Four

“You can’t seriously-“

“Kushina.”

` Five

Finally the anger gave in, allowing him to shove it back into that small corner of his soul where it always sat, waiting for him to find a quiet deserted place to let it out.

“What my father would have wanted for me holds no weight over my life,” he continued. “He’s dead. He has been dead since I was a kid, and if anyone in this room had wanted me to have a different path perhaps they would have done something about it themselves.”

Eyes darting around the room, he watched as every single cop diverted their gaze away from him. Shame evident in all of their eyes.

“Now, I believe the issue we were talking about was my trustworthiness,” he continued, finally meeting Minato’s gaze once again. “You said you needed proof that I would keep my word. Do you have that proof now?”

Bright blue eyes stared at him, only breaking eye contact long enough to flick back towards the picture of Hatake Sakumo hanging on the wall before returning. “Alright.”

“What!?” Kushina spun around to face Minato, her eyes wide with surprise. “You can’t be serious. Minato if he leaves we’ll never see him again!”

Sighing, Kakashi directed his attention back to the red-head. “I told you, didn’t I? If you find any substantial evidence against him, I’ll bring him back myself.”

“There’s no reason we have to trust you,” She snapped. “You’re a thug, Scarecrow.”

Hearing his nickname being used once again, Kakashi sighed.

“I am also the Son of Hatake Sakumo,” he stated firmly. “Regardless of what you think of me, that fact will always stand above all others. And as much as I hate every single coward in this room-“ murmured protests filled the station. Words of anger and aggravation spoken just low enough that Kakashi could barely make them out. “I will never disrespect my father so much as to lie to the person who took his job.”

Kushina’s mouth hung open, no words leaving her lips for the first time since he had walked through the door. For once, Kakashi had managed to stun her into silence, and the feeling that came from that knowledge was beautiful.

When all was said and done, he was going to enjoy bugging her about this moment for years to come.

“Fine,” straightening herself up, she met Kakashi’s eye. “I’ll hold you to that.”

A challenge. He could handle that.

“You know how to get hold of me if you do end up finding anything, right?” Watching as Minato signalled to one of the other cops, Kakashi allowed his eyes to wander over. Lingering on the officer as he made his way towards the back where all of the cells were. “Of course, if you’re having trouble contacting me you can always stop at my favourite Coffee shop. I could always do with a free cup while you’re proving his guilt to me.”

As if the last five minutes didn’t exist, vanishing into distant memory, Kushina squared off on him once again and started arguing about ‘not buying gang members coffee’ and ‘having better things to do’

Statements that Kakashi knew were bold-faced lies. Kushina would buy him a coffee even while complaining about him being a cheap bastard and saying she had better things to spend her money on, and as much as she refused to admit it she would love every second of it.

Because if Kushina didn’t have him to challenge her, she’d be bored. They both knew that even if they would never say it out loud.

#Mafia Au #hatake kakashi #kushina uzumaki #minato namizake #kakashi week 2021 #Kakashiweek2021 #Kakashi week fic

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fictionadventurer · 3 years

Text

So Strong as Gentleness; Or, Powers and Prejudice 2/?

Chapter 2: Immovable Object

For generations, the Bingleys had been the staunchest allies of the city’s superhumans, and the current generation had lived up to the family legacy. It was commonly conjectured that Charles Bingley himself numbered among the city’s masked superheroes--that he was the alter ego of the Storm King or the Nighthawk or the Blur--but it was just as commonly argued that this would unite too many blessings in a single man. Charles Bingley was good-looking and gentleman-like; he had a pleasant countenance and easy, unaffected manners. He united personal fortune with personal charm, and he had no need of superhuman talents to make him one of the city’s most extraordinary citizens.

It was with great astonishment that Jane noted his presence at Bingley Enterprise’s headquarters when she and Lizzie arrived at the recruitment event. The crowd was vast, but Mr. Bingley darted through with astonishing speed, shaking hands with everyone, delighted by the day and pleased by all in attendance. Though the strictures of the event required Jane to spend most of her time filling out forms and conducting interviews with middle management, she received a moment’s attention from the man himself. He approached her just as she was departing from an informational table, offered a handshake, and desired to know her opinion of the event, her occupational and educational history, her opinion of Netherfield, her favorite popular musicians, and if she had noticed the heavily laden refreshment table in the main lobby. Jane provided all the information desired and was surprised to find Charles Bingley genuinely interested in the answers. A few moments of conversation left her convinced that Charles Bingley was all that a young man ought to be--sensible, good-humored, lively. She had never seen such happy manners--so much ease, with such perfect good breeding.

It was not until she caught sight of Lizzie--reapproaching her after they’d been separated by the crowd--that Jane remembered their mother’s purpose in sending them to the event. But by this point, Mr. Bingley was already being pulled away from the conference.

In the course of the day, Mr. Bingley had gained a shadow--a tall, dark-haired young man who was as aloof and elegant as one expected the heir to a corporation to be. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was head of a Pemberley corporation, with fortune and fame for such that eclipsed the Bingley reputation. He rarely left the city of Pemberley, and Jane could not fathom why a Bingley event had drawn him away from his own business concerns.

It seemed that Mr. Darcy had similar questions for Bingley, because after Darcy had pulled him a few steps away, Jane overheard him scolding his friend. “You shouldn’t waste your time with this nonsense.”

“Nonsense? Darcy, you know as well as I do that vetting future hires is a prime security concern.”

“You are socializing when you’re needed elsewhere.”

“Caroline has it well in hand. If my help is needed, I can rush to the rescue, but until then, my time is as well spent here as anywhere. Bingley Enterprises is a powerful force for good in this city.”

“Not as powerful as some.”

“Don’t force me to modesty, Darcy. I know our organization is primitive compared to what you have in Pemberley, but our strategies are effective for Netherfield, and if you could just trust...”

It was at this point that the two men moved too far away from Jane for her to hear any more of their conversation. Turning to her sister, she asked, “What do you make of that, Lizzie?” Her sister had undoubtedly overheard the same conversation--perhaps was hearing it still, as her senses retained some of their animal acuteness even in human form.

“Is it not obvious?” Lizzie said with a laugh. “It appears our company is not exalted enough for the grand Mr. Darcy. In the heights of his villainy, he has deprived you of a charming conversational partner and destroyed your chances of personal happiness.”

Jane sighed. “Mother will be disappointed. I made no mention of--”

“This has nothing to do with our mother. I was speaking of your obvious infatuation with a certain philanthropist.”

Jane had, from a young age, trained herself out of all outward displays of emotion--a necessary habit when any physical outburst had the potential to tear down walls--and she was proud that she did not so much as blush in response to Lizzie’s insinuation. “He is very charming. But I do not think five minutes of conversation is enough for you to pin all my happiness upon him.” She watched the two men disappear further into the crowd. "Perhaps, if my application is accepted, we can renew our acquaintance, but I have have lost my chance today.”

In this, Jane soon found herself mistaken. As the event was ending and Jane and Lizzie were exiting through the revolving doors of Bingley Enterprise’s main lobby, she found their compartment suddenly shared by a third person, who was none other than Charles Bingley himself.

“Miss Bennet,” he said. “I am glad to have found you. I wished to apologize for my abrupt departure from our earlier conversation.”

Jane found herself stunned by more than the sunlight as they emerged onto the sidewalk outside. “No apology is necessary. I understand you have many other concerns.”

“That is no excuse for uncivility,” Bingley said, “Though Darcy would argue otherwise. He is always telling me to devote my time to more serious matters, but I say it is always worthwhile to be on friendly terms with our neighbors.”

Lizzie said, “It seems Mr. Darcy is uncommonly conceited.”

“No better man in the world!” Bingley said, rising to a good-hearted defense of his friend. “Only too apt to take the weight of the world on his shoulders and demand that I carry the same burden. I dare say he has a point, but one can better do good in the world by knowing the people within it.”

“A sensible philosophy,” Jane said.

“And apt to make you much more popular with us common citizens,” Lizzie said.

“No one is common,” Bingley said, “especially in Netherfield.”

Jane was struck by the fear that he was about to realize just how true that statement was. For Lizzie’s attention was suddenly riveted to the bank across the street, and her pupils had already turned to cat-like slits.

“What is it, Lizzie?” Jane asked, hoping by conversation to keep her sister tethered to her human form. Lizzie had gained a great amount of control over her transformations, but the jaguar was likely to emerge unbidden in moments of danger. Lizzie had never transformed in so large a crowd before, and Jane did not know, in the case of disaster, if the jaguar could distinguish threats from innocent bystanders.

“Something is happening,” Lizzie said. “At the bank. I think there might be--”

Her words were drowned out by the explosion. The facade of the bank erupted into flame, and debris was headed in their direction. Jane tried to position herself as a shield to Mr. Bingley and Lizzie, but the sudden movement left her off-balance and falling.

Before she could right herself--before she could even see the results of the explosion--Jane suddenly found herself standing in an alleyway two blocks distant from Netherfield Enterprises. Mr. Bingley was at her side, bent over to catch his breath, with the blue half-mask of the Blur half-pulled over his face.

“Mr. Bingley?”

The man turned away, shielding his face with his hand. “You weren’t supposed to see--I’m usually gone by now, but you--you’re heavier than you look.”

Most other girls, perhaps, would have been offended by such comments, but Jane was merely impressed that he had moved her at all. If she hadn’t been falling, he wouldn’t have managed it--she had been told that trying to move her from where she was standing was like running face-first into a steel girder.

“What’s happening?” she asked, helping Mr. Bingley to straighten his skewed mask. The daughters of Mrs. Bennet knew that there was nothing so important to the average hero than the secret of their identity.

“Heist of some kind,” Bingley said. “We thought there might be villain movement today, but didn’t think they’d strike so close to the Enterprises building.”

“We have to go back!” Jane shouted, dashing out of the alley. “Lizzie!” There was no doubt that the jaguar was loose, and Jane was best able to keep her sister in control of her humanity.

“Wait!” he shouted in alarm. “I can go back to help her, but you mustn’t endanger yourself.”

Jane continued another city block, unheeding. She could see the bank now, chaos erupting as crowds fled from the disaster. From the destroyed facade, some variety of spidery, villainous robot had emerged, tossing aside people and vehicles that hindered its attempts at escape.

“Miss Bennet, please!” Bingley was at her side, apparently attempting the same rescue he’d completed moments before, but unable to budge her an inch.

“Help them!” Jane said. “I’ll be fine!”

At that moment, the rampaging robot picked up a green sedan and tossed it over the crowd, directly toward Jane’s position. Jane lifted both arms and caught the car by its front bumper. She held it aloft until she was certain the sidewalk before her was clear of bystanders, then she set it lightly on the ground.

She turned around to see the Blur, Netherfield’s most famous speedster, standing motionless, his jaw slack.

“I see,” he said, gathering his composure. He stepped toward her. “I must apologize. It appears you were not in want of a rescue. But if I may ask, are you in possession of a good mask?”

#adventures in writing #so strong as gentleness #powers and prejudice #pride and prejudice #superheroes #jane/bingley #jane austen #pride and prejudice superhero au #here it is!#for what it's worth #which is admittedly not much but hopefully it's a little fun?#the bingley rescues civilian jane is probably a textbook darling in need of killing #because i had to invent this vague and implausible scenario to get civilian jane in bingley's presence #but it's still a fun scene and i can do what i want with this story #this story is an exercise in writing garbage #i am purposely releasing short segments without anything but the lightest of line editing so i'm forced to keep moving forward #if i hadn't been doing that i probably would have already rewritten that opening segment in different styles at least three more times #it's certainly a choice and i'm having fun with it #but as you can see the austen style is probably going to have to relax as we get more overtly superhero-y scenes

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nulienna · 3 years

Note

Hi! Do you have any Curufinrod headcanons?

(Also, I’ve just seen that we share a name!)

Aah thank you so much for asking!! I do indeed have a lot of headcanons but I haven't really tried to put them into words so this is probably gonna be a mess I apologise in advance

I imagine that they're the kind of people who appear at first glance to be polar opposites of one another (Finrod is extroverted, friendly, artistic, Curufin is introverted, rude, and more of a scientist) BUT on a deeper level they actually have a lot in common.

They're both very inquisitive and open-minded people, they love to discuss and debate new ideas - Finrod is one of the few people who will happily enter a philosophical debate with Curvo because everyone else is too intimidated, and likewise Finrod struggles to find people to talk philosophy with him because most people (read: his siblings) lose the will to live after about 5 minutes or have no idea what he's on about.

Following on from that I also headcanon them both as being quite lonely people (especially in Nargothrond). Curufin doesn't have many friends thanks to his trust issues(TM) and his personality being like ... that, his relationship with Tyelpe is strained at best (and I headcanon that they never really had the sort of relationship where Curvo could confide in Tyelpe, he was definitely a present father but not necessarily an emotionally available one if that makes sense?), and while Celegorm is probably Curufin's closest relationship I imagine that the two of them didn't always have the healthiest of dynamics either and probably quarrelled a lot, so Curvo overall doesn't really have anyone else to confide in. By comparison, on the surface Finrod appears to have LOADS of people to confide in - he's got his counsellors, his close family (specifically Orodreth and Finduilas), not to mention that he's friends with basically all of his cousins - but, in my head, Finrod actually feels very isolated because he's wrestling with a lot of stuff that he can't really talk to any of those people about. Because I like to see my faves suffer, I really love the concept that Finrod is tormented by visions of his own death, and he knows that his oath is going to be his undoing but he also knows that faith in him is the only thing holding his family and indeed his own realm (not to mention several others let's be honest) together, and he knows the worry and panic sharing his visions with his loved ones would bring. But, lo and behold, someone comes along who knows EXACTLY how it feels to be trapped by an oath that you know will be your inevitable undoing!

I also think that Finrod struggles a lot with feeling like he doesn't live up to the version him that most people see. His followers hold him up as this paragon of wisdom and nobility and kindness but I think Finrod actually sees himself as very flawed. He feels personally responsible for all the people who followed him onto the Helcaraxe only to die there, or only to be killed in battle once in Beleriand, or to survive only to find that life in Middle-earth isn't exactly all it's cracked up to be. Finrod actually finds it really refreshing that Curufin is one of the few people who doesn't put him on a pedestal, who openly criticises him, who, from Finrod's perspective, actually sees him for who he truly is (a flawed person, just like everyone else!).

This ties into my other point which is about good ol' Daddy Issues. I find it interesting that both Finrod and Curufin inherited their fathers' name (in Curvo's case his father-name, in Finrod's case his mother-name, Ingoldo). They are also both described as very much taking after their respective fathers, both in appearance and in personality. I think Curufin probably wins the dubious honour that is having the Biggest Daddy Issues of any Silm character but in all honesty I don't think Finrod's that far off. I think a lot about the impact that Finarfin choosing to turn back after the Kinslaying/Doom of Mandos had on Finrod - he and Finarfin were probably very close, and tbh I think that this was a decision that they argued about at the time. Finrod chose to carry on because he was adventurous and curious about the lands to the east, and because his siblings (primarily Galadriel) wanted to go and he wanted to protect them (I could write a whole other essay about Finrod and Galadriel's relationship but ANYWAY), but if he's honest with himself there was also a part of him that was afraid to turn back and face the Valar after what had already happened. He still feels guilty over everything that transpired, over the fact that his last conversation with Finarfin was less than pleasant, and he also never would have known for sure whether his father was punished or forgiven for turning back, and so Finrod constantly wonders whether he made the right decision and is always imagining what his father would think of him now. I think this is something Curufin recognises in Finrod because (not that he'd ever admit it to ANYONE, except maybe Celegorm) he too worries constantly about what Fëanor would think of him and, deep down, has a lot of feelings of inadequacy and not living up to his father's legacy.

Sooo basically TL;DR I think Curufin and Finrod have a really interesting dynamic because they are in the unique positions of being able to see past the walls that the other has put up and identifying the underlying issues/trauma at play because they struggle with those same issues. I really see them as two sides of the same coin in a way.

#niphredilien #curufin #finrod #curufinrod #hoooly shit this got long i'm so sorry #this turned more into a character study than headcanons about their relationship oops #but i really like the dynamic of them as kinda doomed lovers who might have had a really great relationship in another life #so i really like tragic readings of them in canon or like super sweet fluffy readings of them in AUs #also NAME BUDDIES hell yea #my dumb ramblings #answered

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mira--mira · 3 years

Text

Hogwarts AU

(AKA another shiny distraction my brain latched onto, but I’m not writing this one bc 1. it’s already too long and 2. Valentine’s AU is already my wip bad idea one-shot of the month(s) lol.)

Half ficlet/half random plot points.

4K words

First and foremost: Madara is a Hufflepuff. Seriously. The heir of the Uchiha, a well-known pure-blood Slytherin family*, has the hat on his head for half a second before it’s yelling Hufflepuff. Madara’s family is the single most important thing to him and he will protect them no matter the cost. That loyalty triumphs even a desire for power.

His house mates are terrified of him. In the first-year Madara’s mostly quiet and homesick so he’s a loner. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his reputation but he’s an Uchiha in Hufflepuff. It’s the talk of the town for weeks. That all changes in his second year when Kaito gets put in Gryffindor. Despite Kou being a former Gryffindor, he gets bullied and told he doesn’t belong in his house. Madara gets in five separate duels in the span of two weeks, manages to win despite the bullies being fourth and fifth years and one time doesn’t even wait for wands to be drawn before he starts swinging at one of them. His reputation is well-deserved now and he absolutely does not care as long as the Gryffindors are terrified he’s going to appear behind them if they so much look at his brother wrong. Kaito is resigned, expecting nothing less, but does manage to make friends with two muggleborns.

*The main Uchiha branch, before Madara’s generation, were one of the most pure-bred families and could trace a completely Slytherin legacy back to the beginning (though there were always rumors that a Veela or two intermarried.) And then Tajima fell head over heels for an extremely powerful muggleborn Gryffindor. The extended family was not pleased. To put it mildly. The heir is a half-blood and a Hufflepuff and the second eldest a Gryffindor. But at least Tajima didn’t marry a Senju, the family consoled themselves...

And speaking of, in his second year Madara also meets Hashirama. Hashirama, who is a Slytherin. He loves his family more than anything too but sees power and charm as the best way to protect them in the long run. Similar to Madara, he’s from a well-known family but the Senju before him had, at times, married half-bloods and muggleborns, but always were Gryffindors. Hashirama’s “defection” to Slytherin was not well-looked upon by his family, his house, or the house he was “supposed” to be in. He’s friendly and charming which is slowly winning people over, and incredibly powerful for his age. His and Madara’s first meeting is in the Forbidden Forest. Hashirama was out after hours looking for special plants, while Madara was out trying to spot a hippogriff. They run into each other and are very wary, but since they’re both second-years and they’re both breaking the rules...it’s not like one of them is in a “better” position than the other. Though with how many detentions Madara’s had for fighting his punishment would probably be more severe.

Somehow they manage to run into each other three separate times, before the incident happens. The incident being stumbling upon a dead hippogriff and her one newly cracked egg with an injured newborn. Madara sees the baby, the dead mother, grabs it and tries to run back to the school. Punishment be damned, it won’t survive and he doesn’t know healing spells. Only to run smack-dab into Hashirama who’s been gathering herbs and happens to know healing spells. Madara sucks up his pride, and wants to avoid detention, and asks for his help. Together, Hashirama heals the hippogriff while Madara goes to find it something to eat. They spend hours with the baby together, but they don’t know what to do with after. So Madara, in his 12 year old wisdom, decides to take it into the castle. Due to the sheer terror of his presence, he and Hashirama manage to keep it hidden between them for three days. When it eventually gets discovered, both boys get punished with a week-long detention and that’s the start of their friendship. They’re pretty inseparable after that and it’s comical, from a distance, to see a scowling Hufflepuff and a sunny Slytherin walking side by side. Not a lot of their interests overlap, but they’re both waaaay too into dueling, join the dueling club, and quickly rise to the top of their year until the other kids really don’t want to go up against either one.

They’re each others first real friend. Madara is stubborn and, let’s be real socially obliviousness enough, that he sticks with Hashirama no matter how many barbed comments come from the Slytherins, Gryffindors, or anyone else. Madara’s terrifying reputation has no effect on Hashirama, his first serious interaction with Madara was seeing him near tears holding an injured baby hippogriff after all, so his prickly demeanor and scowls don’t faze Hashirama.

Third year starts and Tobirama and Izuna are placed. Tobirama in Ravenclaw, and Izuna joins Madara in Hufflepuff. Tobirama tried to argue with the hat to place him in Gryffindor to please Butsuma, but that’s not happening. Izuna, similarly dedicated to family, isn’t a surprise to Madara but freaks the school out that there’s a second Uchiha in Hufflepuff and expect him to be like Madara. Izuna’s not. He’s sweet and innocent, and a terrible little prankster who no one suspects or can hold a grudge against. He’s also a little jealous of Hashirama for taking up his brother’s time and starts to wage a cold war against him. Hashirama thinks Izuna is adorable and it’s cute that he loves Madara so much, but like hell Hashirama is giving up his BFF. Tobirama thinks his brother is being childish and questions why he’s even friends with Madara in the first place, given Madara’s reputation and the fact that he still gets into fights though not as often. Kaito pretends he doesn’t know them, and only hangs out with Madara at school when Izuna and Hashirama aren’t around.

Fourth year starts, Yuuto, Reo, and Kawarama start their first year. Yuuto and Reo live up to the Uchiha name and are placed in Slytherin. They’re also Izuna on steroids when it comes to pranks, set up a prank business based on favors, and insert themselves as agents of chaos in the ongoing cold war between Hashirama and Izuna. They tell Hashirama it’s all about ‘house solidarity’ with matching sinister grins and Hashirama knows he’s walking into some ongoing sibling thing in the Uchiha family. Still, he accepts their help and in response Izuna ropes an unwilling Tobirama into his schemes. Madara is still oblivious. Kawarama also lives up to the Senju name and gets placed in Gryffindor. Ironically, he looks up to Kaito as one of the ‘best’ example of a Gryffindor, and starts to follow him around like a duckling. Kaito’s first pearl of wisdom is to avoid their brothers, unless they’re alone, or all together.

Fifth year starts and Itama is the last Senju to enroll. He gets placed into Hufflepuff and is absolutely terrified of the two older Uchiha in his house. Hashirama tries for a week to rope him into his and Izuna’s war and Itama blanches at the idea of acting like a spy, despite Hashirama’s protests that it’s not spying per se, it’s just keeping a very close eye on Izuna so Hashirama can get a leg up. Itama joins Kaito and Kawarama in the camp of “this is not my problem to deal with” and feels better about it even though it still means dealing with (another) Uchiha. Tobirama desperately wishes he was part of that camp. It all comes to a head before the Yule Ball. (I know it’s a Tri-Wizard tournament thing, but I want to use it.) Tobirama, fed up of Hashirama needling him, tells him if he wants a guaranteed night of uninterrupted peace where Madara’s attention is fully on him, just ask him to the Ball, third-years can’t attend. Tobirama was being sarcastic, but Hashirama takes the idea and runs with it. Runs all the way to Madara to immediately ask him on the spot. Madara who’s with Izuna. Who says yes with only a little bluster and two high spots of color on his cheeks.

Hashirama is ecstatic. He is over the moon and Tobirama is regretting every single life choice that brought him to this moment. Over the next month he bothers all of his brothers, ‘should I cut my hair?’ ‘which haircut looks better?’ ‘do I need to get new dress robes?’ ‘which style do you think Madara would like best?’ ‘how does this cologne smell?’ ‘which kind of breathmint smells better?’ He asks Tobirama the last one and gets met with a scathing look and a silencing hex that seals his mouth shut for the next two hours. Itama is still paralyzed at the thought of Madara so Kawarama ends up being the one Hashirama hounds the most. Kaito also gets dragged in as a ‘Madara expert’ bc he’s with Kawarama a lot.

The night of the Yule Ball comes and Hashirama, with uncut hair, new robes and cologne, and the fanciest kind of ten varieties of breathmint, sets out for his totally-not-a-date. Only to met with Yuuto on the stairs who wishes him luck. Hashirama thanks him and Reo, standing behind him immediately knocks him out with a stunning spell. They strip him of his fancy robes, tie him up, and leave him in a closet. Outside Slytherin’s dungeon entrance, Izuna’s waiting impatiently. The twins appear with a flourish, Hashirama’s robes in Reo’s hand and a polyjuice in potion in Yuuto’s. Family special. When Hashirama asked his brother out on a date right in front of him, it was time for Izuna to get serious. Even if meant sucking up his pride and asking his younger brothers for help. Yuuto and Reo like Hashirama but the chance to rub this in Izuna’s face forever? Him being eternally in their debt? So worth it.

Izuna takes the potion and clothes and meets up with Madara as “Hashirama”. He has one plan. Make Madara see how insufferable Hashirama is, so he stops spending every free moment with him and instead spends more time with his family. First he’s late and shrugs it off whenever Madara asks. They go to the Ball and “Hashirama” ignores Madara. Barely responds whenever he speaks or constantly interrupts him and talks over him. Dances with other people and the one time Madara mutters that he wouldn’t mind dancing, says he’s too tired and retreats to the snack table. Internally, Izuna feels equal parts thrilled and guilty. His plan is working perfectly, but he feels a bit bad he’s putting his brother through this, even though it’ll be better in the long run. He doesn’t even have to try and ignore him in the later half of the night, Madara sits by himself in a corner and won’t even look at or speak to “Hashirama.” They leave the Ball early and barely round two hallways, only the barest cover of ‘privacy’ before Madara whirls on him and starts yelling about how embarrassing and humiliating the entire experience was and why did he even ask him out if this was how he was going to act? Izuna sees the final nail in the coffin and and says he was confused and thought he liked Madara like that but decided he didn’t. He didn’t want to go to the Ball together, but he couldn’t think of a good way to tell Madara before. Izuna expects anger. Expects to see Madara’s infamous short temper and has prepared to flee with three distinct escape routes in mind in case his brother pulls out his wand.

He doesn’t expect Madara’s face to collapse in devastation. Or worse for his eyes to turn shiny with tears before he spins and starts stalking away. Izuna realizes how bad he’s messed up and tries to stop Madara. But the infamous temper sparks now, and he’s barely touched his shoulder before Madara’s turning and slamming his fist into “Hashirama’s” face. Izuna drops, unused to the pain and with a choked snarl not to follow him, Madara flees.

After a minute or two, Izuna picks himself up and dusts himself off. Only to immediately get shoved up against the stone walls as the real Hashirama comes flying around the corner, dressed in his undershirt and pants. He’s furious and for the first time in his life Izuna is actually scared of him. Hashirama demands to know where Madara is and what Izuna did. Izuna explains, in half-formed sentences, feeling like he’s about to cry. The more he says, the paler Hashirama gets until now he’s the one tearing up but his face is still twisted in rage. He yells at Izuna, how he would never do or say any of that, how important Madara is to him and how much he was looking forward to tonight. Izuna’s crying now, mumbling out apologies, and other partygoers are starting to happen upon them and see the very confusing sight of Senju Hashirama shoving Senju Hashirama up against a wall.

Hashirama drops him and tells him to go back to his dorm while he takes off after Madara. There is a chance Madara went back to his dorm but it’s unlikely. He doesn’t like to be around people when he’s upset. Hashirama checks the owlery, he peers into the magical creatures’ enclosure, he’s considering going into the Forbidden Forest or trying to get on a broom to check the skies, when he spots the greenhouse’s door cracked open. He creeps closer and hears someone sniffling inside. Peering around the corner, he can barely make out Madara’s dark form. It’s only because he’s sitting under the moon lilies in Hashirama’s portioned off area of the greenhouse he can see him at all.

Hashirama stumbles in as Madara looks up and yells at him to leave. Hashirama sees the tear tracks on Madara’s face and immediately starts sobbing himself. He moves closer despite Madara’s protests and eventually gets the full story out. Madara doesn’t yell at him to leave again and together they sit in silence under Hashirama’s moon lilies until he can’t take it and moves even closer, grabbing Madara’s hand. He doesn’t have his mints and his breath is still hitching from crying so hard, but he learns forward and kisses him. For one moment, Madara doesn’t respond and Hashirama thinks the night is going to get even worse before he finally reacts and kisses back.

They’re curled together under the moon lilies until the sun rises and the flowers wilt. Both of them are exhausted, but neither wanted to leave and burst their little bubble of peace. It lasts until a harried professor walks into the greenhouse and spots them. When neither returned to the castle, Izuna panicked and thought they were hurt so he told a teacher and the entire staff has been searching for them for a better part of the night.

Parents are called and there’s a conference. Tajima, Kou, and Butsuma can barely be in the same room together without wands or fists coming out. Soroko is sitting in the middle of it, trying to actually figure out why they were called in. Everything eventually comes out and Yuuto, Reo, and Izuna are punished for attacking another student, creating a polyjuice potion, and impersonating a student. Butsuma is torn between fury that three Uchiha attacked his son, and irritation that their ultimate goal, to separate Madara and Hashirama, failed.

And fail it did. If they were joined at the hip before, it’s nothing compared to now. The rest of their fifth year was a bit rocky with family dynamics. Izuna does apologize to both, but Madara’s disappointed and Hashirama’s not quick to forgive in this situation. Neither are happy with the twins either, but they were opportunistic rather than the masterminds. By the end of the year the worst has been smoothed over but Hashirama and Izuna still have an uneasy relationship. In groups, they’re fine, but it gets awkward fast if it’s just the two of them.

Sixth year starts and Hashirama and Madara are officially dating. The extended Uchiha family mourn, it’s Tajima all over again, and the Senju have to reckon with an unlikely friendship becoming an unlikely romance. And hopefully it’s just a teenage fling, but with the way Hashirama talks about their future after school, each career choice changing depending on the month but always the two of them together worries the Senju. There’s an attempt to arrange an engagement between Hashirama and Uzumaki Mito, a Ravenclaw who transferred in their third year, but it falls apart quickly.

Seventh year starts and those far off plans becomes reality as they pass their NEWTS and graduate. They spend a few years in a professional dueling league before eventually inheriting their fathers’ spots in the government. It’s a...bit awkward for the extended family bc they still hate each other but the heads of their houses are married and live together. In their spare time, Madara fosters and rehabilitates injured magical birds and Hashirama has a garden that is less of a garden and more of a forest with a lot of (illegal) magical plants. Tobirama is an arthimancer but dabbles in potions and he threatens to report his brother every week, but comes to collect rare ingredients because the shops never have the same quality. Izuna gets a respectable job in the Department of Mysteries, but moonlights as a diviner that reads people’s fortunes and scams them out of their money. Kaito has no interest in politics and is the only person in the history of hogwarts who wants to willingly teach history of magic. Kawarama becomes a defense lawyer in the wizengamont and is notorious for bringing up loopholes and obscure magical laws that haven’t been used since 1632. Yuuto and Reo open their prank shop...and low-key revive the wizard mafia. They always know someone, somewhere that somehow owes one of them a favor. They never get into politics and everyone, including the extended Uchiha family, are glad.

Misc. Facts about this AU

Kou’s abnormal power in this AU is that she cannot use a wand. She was taken wand shopping but all of them eventually...exploded. Kou’s magic reacted negatively with other magical focuses and she relies completely on wandless magic. Madara inherited that natural ability from her, but his magic doesn’t react negatively with his wand. It allows him to, at the height of his power, “double-cast” once with his wand and once wandless with only a slight split second delay between them. Meanwhile Hashirama has insane stamina and a weird ability where spells just...aren’t that effective against him. They work, but never seem to be at full strength. This is great for offensive spells, not great for defensive/healing ones. Hashirama’s own magic, however, reacts normally to his body.

Tajima and Butsuma are both politicians in the Ministry of Magic and their seats are the farthest apart in the room. They were rivals in school and it continues now. They even occasionally agree on policy decisions, they just hate each other.

Madara loves flying but he was banned from the school quidditch team. Kou is a professional player and he tried some of her prohibited moves. Namely, jumping off his broom, to drop down and grab a bludger and hurl it at the enemy before recalling his broom.

Hashirama has a fear of flying. He fell off a broom as a child and gets extremely nervous when his feet don’t touch the ground. He will fly with Madara, but his eyes are close the entire time and he’s clinging to Madara’s back.

Kaito and Kawarama are best friends. Not “best friends” like Hashirama and Madara’s love-struck romance or “best friends” like Izuna and Tobirama’s frenemy status, but actual good platonic friends. Kaito made the joke that Itama could make friends with the twins and then it’d all even out. Itama takes one look at those crazy two and bursts into tears.

Itama eventually gets used to Madara. They both love magical creatures and Itama is forced to see him a lot after hours. Madara still terrifies him, but at least he treats the animals nicely. The other three Uchiha still terrify him.

Mito transferred to Hogwarts in her third year. She’s a Ravenclaw and is friendly with the Senju, especially Hashirama and Tobirama. Hashirama is an endless source of amusement for her and Tobirama balances it out with interesting ideas.

Madara has a falcon for his pet instead of an owl. He was told it wasn’t allowed and responded by saying the falcon’s name was Owl. Why can’t his Owl be allowed in school? The administration is not amused.

Soroko is the most normal and level-headed out of the Senju/Uchiha parents. She reaches out to Kou once it becomes obvious Hashirama is determined to keep Madara as his friend, despite Butsuma’s disapproval. Once they start dating Kou and Soroko start meeting regularly for tea and lunches. She also has a bit of a mischievous side and likes Yuuto and Reo best (polyjuice incident aside)

The Uchiha’s maternal muggle grandparents are still alive. They usually visit for at least two weeks every summer and there are hijinks. Tajima still can’t stand muggle newspapers and their non-moving pictures. He despises muggle cars and traffic jams and still doesn’t understand what a TV is, but can turn the channel and raise/lower the volume. However, he loves fountain pens and scandalized the entire Ministry by exclusively using them after his father-in-law got him a fancy engraved set. Kou’s parents take the invasion of magic into their space remarkably well. Madara dragged in god only knows how many freakish alien looking birds from a supposedly normal non-magical wood. Kaito, as a child, refused to go anywhere for more than a day or two without the talking portrait of great-great-great-great-great grandma Uchiha. Izuna was sweet as sugar, but insisted on trying to cast every charm he knew on their furniture and clothes to show them, despite Tajima and Kou’s repeated warnings about underage magic and not turning grandma and grandpa’s couch into a miniature version of itself. And Yuuto and Reo were causing trouble before they could walk. Countless times Kou’s parents had to tip-toe around booby-traps in their own house that would dump frogs on them, or politely put smuggled howlers at the bottom of the mail pile to deal with later. They are very patient people. Very.

Kiddo Breakdown

Madara

Hufflepuff Interests - Dueling, Care of Magical Creatures (loves anything with feathers) Patronus - peregrine falcon Wand - red oak, phoenix feather, 12.5 inches, inflexible

Hashirama

Slytherin Interests - Dueling, Herbology, Healing Spells Patronus - brown bear Wand - english oak, dragon heartstring, 12.5 inches, springy

Kaito

Gryffindor Interests - DADA, History of Magic Patronus - canary Wand - pear, unicorn hair, 9 inches, pliable

Izuna

Hufflepuff Interests - Charms, Divination Patronus - ferret Wand - rowan, unicorn hair, 10 inches, inflexible

Tobirama

Ravenclaw Interests - Potions, Arithmancy Patronus - polar bear Wand - walnut, dragon heartstring, 9.5 inches, stiff

Yuuto

Slytherin Interests - Potions, pranks, entrepreneurship Patronus - coyote Wand - sycamore, unicorn hair, 10 inches, springy

Reo

Slytherin Interests - Charms, pranks, entrepreneurship Patronus - jackal Wand - sycamore, dragon heartstring, 10 inches, pliable

Kawarama

Gryffindor Interests - Transfiguration, History of Magic Patronus - lynx Wand - larch, phoenix feather, 9.5 inches, reasonably springy

Itama

Hufflepuff Interests - Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy Patronus - rabbit Wand - willow, unicorn hair, 11 inches, unpliable

#naruto #madara uchiha #hashirama senju #hashimada #madahashi #tobirama senju #izuna uchiha #kawarama senju #itama senju #kaito uchiha #yuuto uchiha #reo uchiha #kou uchiha #tajima uchiha #butsuma senju #soroko senju #hogwarts au #i swear this was supposed to be short....

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haec-est-fides · 3 years

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“What have you done?” : Why Riordan’s Handling of Triumvirate Holdings Sucks

I put my thoughts under a cut to make it easier to avoid spoilers and to save you all from a long post,,,like a really long post.

Basically, I think it was inevitable that Riordan fumble Triumvirate Holdings. He simply designed a villain network too powerful and too extensive to ever be handled properly by the heroes. He did try to address,,,some of it, but in the end I think he just made it worse.

I. Let’s talk about Triumvirate Holdings.

The way that Riordan established the origins of the Triumvirate and the extent of their power made it too big to handle from the beginning. The emperors have been around for centuries. It’s mentioned countless times how much property they own, how much money they have, and how many businesses are actually under their control. Rachel says it well in Hidden Oracle: “They make my dad’s company look like a kid’s lemonade stand.” Nero brings it up again in Tower of Nero: “What you don’t seem to realize, Apollo, is that you can’t destroy bank accounts with a bow and arrows. All my assets, all the power I’ve built up for centuries -- it’s all safe.” Think of what Caligula did to Piper and her dad, how deep that ran and how many people were involved. Think of how the Triumvirate funded both Luke and Octavian. All of this goes to show how deeply rooted Triumvirate Holdings is, especially -- unlike other villains -- in the mortal world.

This never really gets taken into account. For instance, Apollo does wonder if Meg will inherit Nero’s tower, but it seems as if she doesn’t, nor do any of the other imperials who go with her to Palm Springs. They live off of the Sibyl’s tarot card business, which strongly implies that they took nothing from the tower -- or the company -- at all.

Apollo also mentions Camp Half-Blood getting the weapons and Greek fire from Nero’s tower, but that is so poorly thought out that I want to scream. Nero had designed special holding tanks for the Greek fire, tanks that Rachel pointed out could be mistaken for a water-treatment facility. And we’re transferring it to a summer camp? Yikes.

Beyond the question of the material, there’s the question of personnel. Mortals, demigods / legacies, monsters, Germani, etc. were all involved with Triumvirate Holdings. I’ll address the Germani in a moment, but the sheer numbers involved make the fall of the company either impossible or devastating. It is conceivable that the mortals, business people and mercenaries alike, could move on and the Mist would do its work. Still, that’s thousands of people jobless. The unemployment rate just skyrocketed. Further, the monsters once under Triumvirate control are now presumably free to cause havoc as well.

Before moving on entirely, multiply all of that by three. Commodus and Caligula employed mortals and monsters as well, and who knows what happened to their material possessions. (Besides the fifty yachts in San Francisco Bay, ofc. Millions of dollars, minimum, at the bottom of the ocean.)

What I’m most concerned about, however, are the demigods / legacies, especially those raised by or who spent considerable time with the Triumvirate. An experience like that shapes people, and not for the better.

II. Let’s talk about the Imperial Households.

Starting with Nero’s household, I think it’s clear that Riordan brushed over the imperials to have his wholesome ending, which is entirely understandable. Even so, he creates such a conflicting view of them that his “they all moved to Aeithales and Healed” bit is so shallow. Apollo’s views in particular cause this problem.

Initially, the fact that the imperials are enemies puts them in this strange category where they’re minors and people (like Meg) but them being harmed or even killed,,,isn’t a bad thing? Chiron, directing new campers during the Greek attack on the tower, yells, “Try not to kill enemy demigods or mortals! Okay, well, from now on, then!” It’s given the weight of a throw-away line. Apollo later goes so far as to think, “I wondered where the other three missing adoptees had gone -- if they’d been captured or had fallen in battle to Camp Half-Blood. I tried not to feel any satisfaction at the thought, but it was difficult.” (Emphasis mine. Oh, and if anyone is interested, this is almost an exact parallel to what Apollo says in Tyrant’s Tomb about Octavian’s death.) I’m not saying that Apollo hasn’t really changed or that heroes have to value the lives of their enemies, but this isn’t the best foot to start on.

In Nero’s throne room, when Meg gets her imperial siblings under control, Apollo comments on how close they are to siding with Nero: “[Meg] reminded me of one of Hades’s dog trainers working with a pack of new hellhounds. ...any sign of weakness from her, any change in the temperature of the battle, and they might break ranks and slaughter everyone in sight.” Even after Nero’s death, the imperials break down. Raging, sobbing, catatonic -- whatever the case, not exactly the best candidates for a smooth adjustment to ordinary life.

Apollo and Meg briefly chat about how the household will need support to heal, but Apollo still notes, with some real hesitancy, “There were no guarantees. The imperial demigods had dealt with so much for so long, some of them might never be able to come back from the darkness.” A short while later, at Aeithales, Apollo observes that the imperials “seemed determined to garden, as if their sanity depended on it, which perhaps it did.” While Cassius, at the very least, seems to be adjusting well, who’s to say that the others are? They can’t garden forever. I just can’t picture this ending as well as Riordan leaves it.

All of that is bad enough, but we know that Nero’s “household” is larger than just the twelve demigods he adopted, and it’s likely that Commodus and Caligula had similar households. Remember Marcus, Meg’s escort in Dark Prophecy? Whether he was one of Nero’s twelve (and got replaced) or not, his existence is evidence that there are far more demigods / legacies involved than the series’ focus would make us think at first glance. We do see members of Commodus’ household in Dark Prophecy, in the stands of the stadium and in the battle against the Waystation -- “a few dozen” even. Interestingly, Caligula is the only triumvir who doesn’t seem to have a household at all, as they’re never mentioned aboard his yachts. That may be exactly as it seems, with him preferring not to have a household out of paranoia. However, I still think it’d be more reasonable to assume that he had some kind of household than to assume otherwise.

Nero’s household appears to have been the most imperial and the most like a family, but that doesn’t mean we can brush off the other households as a non-issue. Considering the lack on information on the subject, it’s entirely possible that the other two emperors did adopt kids. In any case, we can’t judge the loyalty of these unknown demigods / legacies, and they certainly seem to have fallen through the cracks. It’s doubtful that Nero’s children will be able to “heal” even with Meg’s help and a place totally removed from their old life. If the others don’t have any kind of support system? If they’re left to their own devices? That’s a recipe for disaster. They’re likely to cling to the system they know in whatever ways they can.

As a bit of a thought experiment to drive this home, consider: what would Octavian do if he were part of Triumvirate Holdings when the news arrived that the emperors were all dead? I think it’s clear than the answer is not “go live a normal life and pretend the Triumvirate never existed.” It would be naive to think that not a single person in the Triumvirate’s sphere is willing to step up and take over.

III. Let’s talk about the Germani.

Riordan actually explained this well, but then proceeded to fuck up.

I had questioned why the Germani -- ordinary legacies / humans -- could be turned to “monster” dust once resurrected and put in an emperor’s service. What kind of afterlife did that mean they had? Thankfully, Riordan touched on this! As @triumvirateds pointed out on my older post, the Germani -- like most ordinary monsters -- did come back in a day or two after being killed. This apparent immortality, we find, is tied to the Triumvirate’s power, symbolized by each emperor’s fasces. When the Germani were revived, however the Triumvirate accomplished that, they became removed from any usual afterlife until released from the Triumvirate’s service and made “regular people” again.

(This does raise some technical questions. Were each group of Germani tied to a specific emperor? Meaning that the troops on the West coast were “released” when Commodus’ and Caligula’s fasces were destroyed? I’m fairly certain that they still turned to dust during the final confrontation with New Rome. That would imply that their loyalty was tied to the Triumvirate as a whole, and their bond transferred to Nero’s fasces with the power of the other two emperors.)

However, I can’t believe Riordan decided that the Germani would simply be regular people after Nero’s death. Throughout the series, Apollo often remarks that the Germani are a threat because of their loyalty. Remember when the Germani were described as “sensitive about insults to the Imperial person” and nearly killed Apollo for looking at Nero wrong? Well, now Apollo says, “I supposed none of them loved the idea of staying loyal to the cause of a dead emperor.” I’m reminded of when, after Commodus and Caligula were defeated in New Rome, the army ran away and was never mentioned again. In both cases, the Germani are brushed off as disloyal / uncaring and no thought is given as to how they’re supposed to integrate into modern society.

“But wait,” you might argue, “They’re mercenaries. Many of them, like Luguselwa, probably don’t care about the emperors.” Sure. There’s definitely a long history of mercenary troops not being the most loyal, especially when there isn’t a clear leader. However, I have to bring up the fact that when Nero died (in actual history) the German guard was disbanded by one of the following emperors due to their perceived loyalty to Nero, even in death. (Also, because the guard was disbanded for their loyalty, which was a major insult, the entire tribe revolted.) That’s a bit of an oversimplification of ancient history, but with the constant reminders we have in the series about the Germani’s loyalty, this ending just seems like a cheap move by Riordan. He might as well have had them all turn to dust one last time with the dissolution of the Triumvirate’s power. Also, if you even entertain the possibility that someone could step forward to take control of Triumvirate Holdings, I feel that the Germani would serve whoever that was.

On the purely practical side of things, please try to imagine thousands of (possibly illiterate) barbarians adjusting to modern life with zero help. I’m not saying it’s impossible, considering the amount of time they’ve been around (and how they seem to legally exist, as evidenced by Luguselwa being Meg’s legal guardian), but it’s still a stretch of the imagination with how Riordan characterized them throughout the series.

TL;DR

To wrap it up, you just can’t make villainy this pervasive, throw out some guesses as to how things will work out fine, and pretend the world can just move on. Triumvirate Holdings isn’t a snake that dies when you cut its head off; it’s a hydra. The life that almost everyone involved in Triumvirate Holdings lived makes them who they are. Not everyone will end up like Meg, especially considering the sheer number of people impacted. I know that all of this isn’t really Riordan’s concern, that he couldn’t have covered even half of this if he wanted to, but gods does it bother me.

#trials of apollo #toa #tower of nero #tower of nero spoilers #triumvirate holdings #long post #filodox!#I'm sorry for going off about this but I had to #I'm not trying to be cynical #I just really love Triumvirate Holdings #I'm the kid who won't let the company die #I'm suing CHB for property damage #I apologize for the quality of my writing btw #I gave up trying to edit bc I would never be happy with it

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ironwoodatl01 · 3 years

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RWBY Review - Start to Finish -

RWBY VOL 1; CHAPTER 2 -

We ended on the line ‘Better shows were canceled for far less unforgivable sins on our last episode.’

There is a second part to this, which goes;

‘But a show has at least one season before something (that) drastic happens.’

I should have qualified that last statement because;

I know, I should have qualified my statement.

Moving on.

Chapter 2: The Shining Beacon -

Picking up from the airship ride upon which Chapter 1 ended, Chapter 2 begins with Ruby Rose taking her first steps onto Beacon Academy and fangirling about the weapons borne by the other students accompanying Ruby to Beacon Academy.

After being abandoned by her sister, Yang, whom we met on the airship. Ruby then meets three characters; Weiss, Blake, and Jaune Arc.

Bonding with Jaune Arc, Ruby makes her way into Beacon proper where the first thing we see of the school is an auditorium. Ozpin gives a speech, and Glynda tells everyone to spend the night in the Great Hall and prepare for Initiation.

During the ‘Slumber Party’ Ruby catches up with Blake, where Ruby then reveals that she loves books. Just like the mysterious, raven-haired beauty Ruby and Yang are attempting to befriend. Despite committing the cardinal sin of interrupting someone while they are reading, Blake seems to appreciate Ruby’s attempts at friendship but decides to call it a night when Weiss appears.

Building upon Chapter 1 -

In the vein of being creative, reviews from this point on will always build upon the last review of the previous chapter. A narrative is not cogent on individual scenes but on how individual scenes build upon each other, and therefore any review of RWBY should be taken in the context of what previous episodes show.

This is especially true since RWBY isn’t a ‘Monster-of-week’ story but a continuous story about Ruby Rose and her adventures.

Chapter 2 chooses to expand on the Huntsman storyline by focusing on Ruby’s entrance into Beacon after she was given a chance to be at Beacon by Ozpin. We learn more about Ozpin and his place at Beacon, we get a clearer picture of what Dust is capable of, and the Faunus issue takes a backseat to Ruby’s character development and relationship building with her schoolmates at Beacon.

However, Ruby Rose’s development is rather inconsistent. Ruby portrays multiple, contradictory character traits which cause Ruby to feel like a blank slate. Adapting herself to reflect the traits of better-developed characters instead of being a character herself.

The dialogue and exposition throughout the episode also make it feel like I’m being reintroduced to plot elements discussed in the first episode, making the narrative so far feel tedious.

In fact, it may be better if Chapter 1 was a prologue or a trailer, while Chapter 2 becomes Chapter 1. This is because most of the plot elements introduced in Chapter 1 were better introduced with a more cohesive narrative in Chapter 2.

What I (genuinely) liked -

Dust -

The scene where Ruby Rose knocks over Weiss’s Dust Cases was my favorite introduction to Dust. The scene was simple and established what we needed to know about Dust for now; It’s volatile, powerful, and produces elemental effects when it explodes.

The introduction also serves multiple goals; establishing Ruby’s clumsiness, Weiss’s schtick as having more than make-up powder in her suitcases, and the relationship between Ruby and Weiss. Ruby’s impetuous energy, and Weiss’s cautious uptightness in regards to her personal items and space.

It is also interesting to see a weapon being introduced in a way that does not involve fighting.

Jaune Arc -

At this stage in the story, Jaune is my favorite character. His simple design is elegant, his weaponry is a breath of fresh air compared to Ruby’s over-designed Crescent Rose, and Jaune feels like the kind of guy you could go out for a beer with. Which is something that writers tend to overlook when it comes to character design. Would your character be someone the reader would go out for a drink with?

Ozpin’s Speech -

Ozpin’s speech raises a question that sets up one of RWBY’s … themes. In the opening narration, Ozpin brings up ‘a Simple Soul’ as the key to victory. Though we don’t really know what is a ‘simple soul,’ it can be assumed that the story of Ruby Rose will tell us as it unfolds. So that’s fair.

In this episode’s speech, Ozpin brings up the question of ‘purpose’. The Huntsmen are at Beacon to get knowledge, but they fail to ask themselves ‘why’ they want this knowledge. Why do you want to be a Huntsman? Implying a question that requires a good answer if one wants to succeed at being a Huntsman.

The purpose is something that most modern stories tend not to explore. Why does a character want to do something? Protagonists and Heroes tend not to have this well established. The Hero fights the Villain because that’s what Heroes do, but why does a Hero want to specifically fight this Villain? How would fighting the Villain help the Hero achieve his goals? Villains tend to have this better explained, which may be why audiences identify with the Villains more.

But in RWBY’s case, this question is not answered yet. But it is a question that the show intends to address, and I think it is a pertinent question.

Another pertinent question is how I’m going to piss off RWBY fans this time.

Problems with the Chapter 2 -

Like Harry Potter, to an extent, RWBY’s main problem is Ruby. A special girl is marked out for a special destiny, and we have to know how special she is at the expense of more interesting characters like Jaune.

One example of this is when Ruby meets Blake and they have a discussion about books.

The conversation is skewed to explore more of Ruby instead of Blake by taking something that is uniquely Blake’s, her love of books, and having Ruby explain Blake’s hobby to her face. We learn about Ruby’s preferred genres, we learn what books mean to Ruby, and how they motivate her to be a Huntress. Forgetting that earlier on, Ruby’s thing was weapons.

Ruby’s thing for weapons was established at the beginning of the episode with a sequence explaining how weapons are an extension of the Huntsman and are thus cool. This in and of itself contradicts Ruby’s first interview in Chapter 1 where she states that being a Huntsman is cool because they are romantic and cool. At the same time referring to weapons a grand total of zero times.

One could argue that this love of weapons and romantic stories about heroes are linked to Ruby’s love of Huntsmen in general. Ruby does state that;

“As a girl, I wanted to be just like those heroes in the books... Someone who fought for what was right, and protected people who couldn't protect themselves …”

Which could work, and I like that. So what do weapons have to do with stories? It is a jarring personality thing that takes away from the unique trait of other characters and serves to make Ruby a fence-sitter. A character tries to be like every other character, and in the process loses her character.

Funnily enough, this is why Jaune is a more interesting character than Ruby. He is his own character. A boy trying to live up to his family legacy by becoming a Huntsman, because that is how he would make his mark in a bloodline containing warriors and heroes.

We don’t have Ruby Rose telling Jaune how SHE is part of a family line of ancient warriors, and thus showing how special she is. Jaune is allowed to keep what makes him unique, and he thus maintains the quality that makes him an interesting character at this point of the narrative.

Conclusion -

I like Chapter 2. It interestingly introduces several interesting concepts and is a good start to the narrative of RWBY.

However, Ruby Rose takes too much screen time, and the Chapter would have been better suited to being ‘Chapter 1’ instead.

#rwby #rwby review #rwby fandom #rwby v1 #writing #reviews #rwde #anti rwby #pro james ironwood #pro ironwood

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crescentharborrp · 3 years

Photo

BASICS

Name: Helene Louise D’Autremont.

Gender/Pronouns: cisfemale, (she/her).

Date of Birth: April 5th, 1991.

Age: 30.

Hometown: Aix-en-Provence, France.

Length of time in Crescent Harbor: Two weeks. Inconsistent visits through childhood.

Neighborhood: Sunstone Beach.

Occupation: Hedge Fund Research Analyst.

Faceclaim: Emma Rigby.

BIOGRAPHY (trigger warnings: infidelity)

It is the strong that survive in this world. You have to take what you want; never wait for it to be given.

These are the words her mother tells her, the phrases that are whispered in her ear and echo as she grows from infancy to adulthood. They are not the honeyed words of a fairytale, nothing so soft as a reminder to ‘Have courage, and be kind.’ as others might prefer nowadays. Instead, she hears the words come from a woman that is a legacy, one that has manufactured herself as someone undeniable, someone who has long-seen the world as filled with only adversaries and has seen every challenge as one for survival. Perhaps it was paranoia, aching in her bones that she passed down to her daughter. Maybe it is the hunger that she remembers, her stomach never full enough and never comfortable enough to rest— a haunting that lingers turned malevolent spirit that’s attached itself to her daughter, too. For a little girl, devoted to her parents and spoiled, however, she understands this lesson as love.

Call it poison. Call it a knife. Today, Helene calls it her strength.

Disenchanted— her father’s favourite word. Ambition— her mother’s favourite word. Hugo D’Autremont had wanted a pretty wife to complete the image of well-rounded glory. Renee Hawthorne had wanted power, wanted influence outside of the stifling life of a small town. How cruel it is to know that theirs is not a marriage of love; partnership, mutual respect, power, yes— but, love was not at the forefront of their union. What they did share, however, was the love and aspirations for their three children.

Of the three of them, she is their middle child. Born Helene Louise D’Autremont, her beginnings are as eventfully uneventful as any would assume. Renee gives birth to her in France, having spent the last of her pregnancy in the D’Autremont’s familial home, and it is there that Helene spends her earliest years: she is christened in the same chapel her father had been christened in (by the same priest, too), her first steps are taken as she attempts to chase after her elder sibling in the chateau’s garden, and papa is her first word— shrieked at the sight of her father coming home from work when her mother moves them into the city. It is blissful, idyllic, even picturesque to imagine: an infancy filled with frothy lace and flowers and sunlight. It is perfect, an image from a magazine. But, so is any outsider’s view of their lives.

Behind closed doors, Hugo and Renee near-constantly argue about the best way to raise their children, and so begins an upbringing that creates in her a desire to take everything that she can while she can, little claws trying to sink into something permanent— and, oh, she’d learn that of all things, success, though while not permanent, was something to always claw after in every aspect of her life.

Her education begins in France before she and her siblings are moved stateside for New York. Then eventually, Renee brings her children to the place she was raised to humble them and show them the stark difference of their lives versus her beginnings. Seattle is next, another private preparatory school like New York, then they return to the east coast for a few years. It is erratic, a hindrance on their educational records, but between nannies and tutors and the children seeming to thrive in whatever environment they are placed in, there is nothing found inherently wrong about their education. In fact, Helene herself seems to do best with change, seems content to keep a rather small circle of friends. The only time she seems to show any distaste is when she spends two consecutive years at Crescent Harbor’s Preparatory School. Being pitted against her cousin Allison irks her, but drives her competitiveness to the point of leaving. She finishes her upper secondary schooling at Phillips Exeter Academy in New Hampshire with a proud tilt of her head. Her mother had come from a small town and worked her way up, yes. That was very well understood. But, to limit Helene’s success by attempting to keep her in Crescent Harbor for her education was a potential misdeed that the girl would not stand for. It is Hugo that in the end understands the tenacity in his middle daughter’s gaze, and who was he to deny a proper education that he could more than afford?

Between her years in Crescent Harbor Prep and Phillips Exeter Academy, her drive in all things academia is met with the approval of classmates and faculty alike, doubly met by her parents’ standards and gloating. Debate, model UN, student government— she appears to be a shoe-in to go into law or politics: a charming face and silver tongue backed by an analytical mind. She always wants more and no one could imagine Helene faltering in any step that she would take. In what free time she has left she competes in dressage competitions, horseback riding a hobby encouraged by her mother when she was younger, but as she had grown so had her desire for competition and order. The piano is a fine instrument, yet she finds the violin more challenging and more commanding; thus, it is her favourite to play. However, her choice in major after she graduates from Exeter as one of the top of her class takes her peers by surprise.

In truth, she had been pushed towards law, had applied to Harvard to compete with her cousin from the western coast. But, she applies under the early decision clause to her school of choice. When she is accepted to Columbia University she tells no one that she is now legally bound to the education institution and instead feigns dismay at having to report she’s been rejected from Harvard University. If one were to look into the veracity of the tale she had spun, it would almost be heartwarming to know that Helene had done as she had so that she and her cousin could not be marked as rivals any further. If she could make sure to be at a different school, maybe they could stand a chance at being friends.

Attending Columbia University, Helene focuses on Financial Economics, finding the world of asset management fascinating ever since working in her father’s office over the summers. The more she reads into money, the hungrier she finds herself for a way into its world. It’s nearly unheard of nowadays, to start from the ground up with a management fund, and truthfully she is well aware of that. But, she wants to be a part of the greats. Those who so love history imagine the battles and wars waged through the centuries. The sieges of violence are those she finds no interest in. Instead, it is the wily tongues and steel backbones of mergers and acquisitions that fascinate her. She follows money, follows the finance section of The New York Times and the way a hungry dog follows the scent of food. And it is with unsurmountable hunger glowing in her eyes that she chases after it.

After she finishes her masters in France, following in the footsteps of an Arnault by attending INSEAD, and between the grunt-work stages of being a junior analyst at a firm that has her nearly ready to rip her hair out, she gets married.

It’s a sweet affair, a grand thing in the French countryside of the Chevalier family villa. Helene D’Autremont becomes the wife of Maxim Chevalier, a corporate lawyer from a family of lawyers that her father and his family had known for generations. They’re a powerful pair, a good-looking match (words a part of his grandmother’s blessing), and they’re perfect together. Back in New York they conquer their lives, the city with their own victories. He makes junior partner and has his own office and clients within the firm, while she ambitiously finds her way to become a senior analyst. They have a dog, a high-rise condo in the city, and the girl that had been raised to want for nothing continued to have everything she ever wanted. She even loves her husband, romance catching her by surprise and inspires utter delight— kindness and softness, after all, have never been her calling card.

Things are exactly as she wants, exactly as she had ever strived for, exactly as she wants everyone to see of her. Hugo and Renee could not be prouder.

Except, the outwards presentation of perfection will always come at a price. Helene’s career and ambition takes its toll on her marriage. Behind closed doors, Maxim’s brief affair with an old flame brings the image of perfection, brings a framed portrait of their wedding day, to the ground shattered. He says she’s lost sight of their shared goals, and she asks what kind of fool he thinks she is to want a child with a man who would cheat on her. Anger, hurt, pent up frustrations compounded over the years come to head in such a vitriolic display that one wonders if there truly was any love between them to begin with. But, the way the tears fall from her eyes says differently; the way he tenderly picks up their portrait after she’s left says differently. The corporate regime begins their whispers when Helene seems to be courted by a new firm that would require relocation. Her lofty expression is found on the Tatler social pages the next month and it’s rumoured that Maxim’s been on a ruthless winning streak in the courtroom since their fight.

From the outside looking in, Helene’s reasons for relocating to Crescent Harbor are harmless: her cousin is getting married, mother wants her to oversee renovations to the cottage and home, and with a few new acquisitions being eyed in Seattle, she’s to be a point of contact within commuting distance— a test before a likely promotion. Yet, truthfully: she hardly cares for her cousin’s wedding, the renovations could be overseen remotely, and if she were truly meant to be overseeing anything in Seattle she shouldn’t be two and a half hours away. Helene, in all her years of success, of taking and conquering like some covetous spoiled creature, wants respite. She wants to draw her husband out of the city, wants an opportunity for them to start anew away from the glittering cityscape of New York. Crescent Harbor had been used as a humbling experience once; perhaps it will work as a way to mend their marriage, too.

It is to be noted, however, that Helene has lost none of the proud tilt of her head. And that her smile, if anything, is more akin to a snarl. Her charm, if it could be called that, is in her honesty, is in the way that she cuts no corners for herself, is the way that she commands not only attention, but respect. Her father may have paid for many things, but her fortune and her position in life is her own.

PERSONALITY

+ poised, charming, ambitious.

- cutting, unyielding, haughty.

#oc rp #town rp #city rp #lsrp #lsrpg #emma rigby #helene d'autremont #taken #f #sunstone beach #infidelity tw

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.21

Tense. Things at home were tense. Lance had muttered about needing to go shopping, then left. Keith knew when to bite his tongue, and this was definitely a time for tongue biting. Wanting to do something helpful Keith put his mind to cleaning. Not like in-depth cleaning, but enough to be counted as an effort around the house. That meant first he had to find everything, then he had to argue with the washing machine as he tried to figure the damn thing out as he didn’t know if sheets were washed on the same cycle setting as clothes... if they weren’t before, they were now. Blue had acted like it was the end of the world once the vacuum cleaner went on, dramatically running from the living room so fast she skidded. Adam would have been proud of him. As was every foster family he’d never fit in with. Sure, he had anger issues, but he wouldn’t have anger issues if people stopped making him angry.

Keith got less done than he’d set out to accomplish. Barely finishing the first floor before there was the sound of a car horn out the front, the approach drowned out by Lance’s ancient vacuum that would have been tossed out long ago if Adam had seen the device. Adam really did have the one functioning brain cell between him, Shiro and Keith. The hunter knew it was unhealthy to hold onto things, Adam had died over a year ago now, but he and Shiro together had been the best family Keith had ever had. Shiro never treated him like a legacy. The child of a hunter who’s name carried far too much weight. Since being accepted into the Order and beginning his training as a cadet, he’d lived in the shadow of the great werewolf hunter Krolia. He understood why she had to leave him, why she did fought as she did, but... Shiro and Adam felt more like family to him than she did. Krolia was... she was... it was heavy to think about her accomplishments. Stowing the vacuum back in the laundry, Keith rushed back through the house, trying not to appear like he cared whether Lance was alright or not... because he didn’t.

Heading out, Lance was standing at the back of his bronco, trunk door open

“Help me carry stuff”

Lance wasn’t supposed to be doing anything exerting like carrying in the whole damn shop from the look of it

“Did we really need so much stuff?”

“Not supposed to go out, remember. So I stocked up. Before you bite my head off, I didn’t go shopping alone. I found my phone in the car and shot Hunk a message”

“You... talked to Hunk?”

“Am I not allowed?!”

The snappiness in Lance’s tone kind of hurt, as did the fact Lance had talked to Hunk before they’d had a chance to talk about their situation

“I’m not saying that. I’m just wondering what... It’s none of my business”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have snapped. I told him Mami had a fall, well, Miriam had a fall and I was in Platt due to it. He went a little crazy shopping”

“So you’re blaming Hunk for this?”

They needed a whole army to eat the amount of food in the back of the bronco. Lance sighed as he passed Keith the first bag

“He’s a good man. I really do think he and Pidge are both interested in you, as in being friends. Sorry, can we save talking until we’re back inside. I want to wallow a little longer”

“Alright... but don’t think you’re getting out of this”

“I wouldn’t dream of it”

People were exhausting. Hunk was one of those people. He was a natural born worrier who’d worried the moment he showed up. Lance was pulled into a tight hug, hiding his discomfort as he was. Normally he loved Hunk’s hug, but he couldn’t tell him the truth and it sucked big hair testicles. Repeatedly trying to redirect the conversation from him, Hunk kept bringing up how unwell Lance looked and how he needed to eat more. Yeah. He did. But looking at all the food in the supermarket isles made him sick. It fed the knot of anxiety that’d settled in his gut. He was changing for the worse, and there was no way to back out of it now. When Matt came, everything would change again. Pidge would be over the moon to see her brother again, while Matt would be terrified of one wrong move exposing his secret. Secrets sucked. They festered like wounds. Growing and spreading that infection until you felt physically ill.

Settling down with a cup of coffee, like a normal human would, Lance stared into the cup as Keith put things away. Lance wanted to take control, he wanted to take back some kind of order in his life, yet with Keith living there, he needed to loosen up. Keith needed to know where things went and how to navigate his kitchen beyond how to use the coffee machine. Keith really seemed to like his coffee. He wasn’t so fond of broccoli, or corn for that matter, but he also never really complained about eating anymore... provided he could hover while Lance he cooked, still kind of paranoid Lance was going to poison him or something. If he was going to do that, he would taken care of Keith the second Shiro was clear of the picture.

“You look pale. Do you need blood?”

Keith’s question took Lance by surprise. He never hid his drinking blood from his friends, but they thought he was simply indulging in red wine. Keith had seen him drink, and extremely embarrassingly vulnerable. He’d swallowed down that blood bag at VOLTRON with no worries thanks to how hungry he was... So why was it now he was feeling self conscious thanks to Keith asking? And why were his teeth almost throbbing at the idea? It would be a blood bag like the rest of the times he fed, having Keith there was not his ticket to a fresh meal because he didn’t want a fresh meal. That’d mean only submitting to his vampire way

“Not yet”

“Coran said you need to keep your strength up”

“Since when did you care?”

Keith placed down the box of cereal he’d been trying to find a home for

“Since I don’t run away from mistakes I’ve made”

Ouch. Yeah. Keith had fucked up, but he was kind of trying... but only because he felt obligated too. Obligations sucked. Lance knew he was only a job to Keith, but “mistake” struck like a bullet to the heart

“Dude, ouch”

“I... I mean. I take responsibility for my actions. You’re changing because of me. We can’t ignore it”

“I can try”

Keith slammed his plan down on the kitchen bench with enough anger that Lance felt himself jump

“Why?! Why do you that? You said nothing to Luis. You didn’t try defending yourself. You didn’t ask to be turned”

He really hadn’t. He’d been such a lonely kid, he always seemed to have plenty of people around him, but he’d always felt so filled with faults that he kept messing up his friendships. Every month he seemed to have a new best friend who’d leave him to play with someone cooler and smarter than he was. Someone who better at games, and didn’t have problems with English as Spanish was the spoken language at home. He’d been alright with his siblings until they all started to grow older... then they’d all sort of... given up on their little brother

“Luis gave into his fear long ago”

“That doesn’t make it right. He tried to have you hunted”

“I know he did. Look, I’m way too sober for that conversation. But you’d be right if you thought I ruined our family. No one knew how to handle a kid with flashbacks, nightmares and all the things that come with being a vampire. I’m happy they all got out and had a life...”

“The rest of your family’s like that? Like, Luis?”

“It’s complicated. They don’t understand why I’m the way I am. Why I don’t drive a car in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, why I live in a house that’s a cross between farmhouse and plantation. Why I work so cheaply when I could be earning more. They all think I sponge off Mami, and stay with her so I have control over her. It’s easier to pick your battles and the way I see it, Mami won’t live forever. I’ve caused her enough pain that shouldn’t have to see me fighting with my siblings. Fuck... I really am way too sober”

Taking off his glasses, Lance leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Keith didn’t know his life outside of whatever he’d read. He didn’t know how hard it was in the house to have a blood sucker. He didn’t know how many times Lance had made things hard for their family. How he’d cost them all this extra money to keep him fed and safe. Then there was therapy. Him changing schools. Him dealing with his mental health while trying to deal with puberty and nightmares. And God knew how hard it was. How hard it was for his parents, how exhausted they were. How his condition was kind of taboo, and no one was allowed to make a joke about it lest his Mami heard and you’d get smacked across your arse with her pink slipper. Keith picked up the box of cereal again, Lance could hear his moves. The way the contents of the box shook, and the way his clothes rustled. The tiny shift of his footing as he stood on tiptoe to find a space in the cupboard

“I think you were wrong not to stand up for yourself”

Of course “Crusader Keith” thought he needed to stand up for himself, he’d been trained by “Shiro the Hero”

“Tried that, doesn’t work”

He always sent cards, via Mami who knew their address

“Even if Shiro turned, I don’t think I could ever give up on him”

“That’s because you’re far more emotionally mature that my siblings were when they had to deal with a messed up little brother. I’m going to get a bottle of red. Fuck being sober, I’m going to wallow the patheticness out my system, then hopefully I won’t be such a grumpy dick”

“I don’t think you’re being too grumpy. You’re still a bit of a dick”

Lance snorted, placing down his cup of coffee

“That might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me”

“Don’t get used to it”

Lance’s lips turned upwards, the ghosting of a smile. Keith was a total dick, and had no place in Lance’s life, but he wasn’t as obnoxious as he’d been when they first met

“Have a look in the blue bag, down the bottom. I got you something while I was out”

Keith didn’t get Lance at all. He’d been moping, now he was kind of smiling, or grimacing, Keith wasn’t completely sure, but the fact Lance had bought him something seemed kind of like a trap

“You got me something?”

“Yep. Blue bag is all yours”

His? Wasn’t the food because he was human? What else did he need?

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why did you get me something?”

“Because when I saw it, I thought of you. Don’t make this weird”

It was already weird. All of this was weird as fuck. Peaking in the first blue bag there was a whole heal of vegetables, including broccoli which he hated, Lance snorted at him

“Not that one. The other one”

“You could have told me that”

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda”

Whatever that meant. Grabbing the second blue bag, Keith pulled it forward by the handles

“Milk?”

“Lactose free. Actually, all the milk I’ve been buying lately to feed your coffee addictions been lactose free, so you’re welcome over that. I said in the bottom. You know, under everything else”

“Shut up. It just looked like bottles of milk”

“On the top, maybe. I’ll give you that”

Keith sighed to himself mentally. How was he supposed to put up with Lance for another two weeks when he had nothing to do. He couldn’t work out, Coran had benched Lance from teaching him anything physical. Sitting around and doing nothing didn’t agree with him. Lifting out the two bottles of milk, he was annoyed that Lance had something nice. He wasn’t strictly like allergic to lactose, but some brands definitely upset his stomach more than others. At the bottom of the bag was a wrapped box, the paper slightly wet from the condensation off the milk bottles

“It’s a box?”

“Wow, I bet those powers of observation are what makes you a great hunter. Open the box, dummy”

Grumpily Keith took the box out of the bag, mumbling as he did

“You didn’t need to buy me anything”

“You’re really bad at accepting gifts aren’t you?”

“Shut up”

Inside the box was a red digital camera. Keith had always loved the colour red, he also indulged in a little photography thanks to Shiro. It wasn’t as fancy as his camera at home, but it wasn’t bottom of the range either

“You got me a camera?”

“Yep. If you’re going to be sticking around, I figured you might want one to keep up the pretence of having left it here”

This would have easily cost Lance a couple of hundred. Didn’t the vampire have better things to spend his money on?

“Why...?”

“Not this again. Fine, I’ll play along. Why, what?”

“Why did you spend money on me?”

“Because you’re stuck here and I thought that it might be nice to have something of your own. It’s also an apology for all the shit I put you through by turning into a bat. Just make sure you get a few photos of the house, I told the others you were taking photos to help me renovate. Accept the damn gift”

Lance seemed as bad at giving gifts as Keith was at receiving them. Not that the camera was a bad gift, the vampire seemed embarrassed that he was making a fuss over it all. Big gifts like this were shaved for birthdays or Christmas, no one went around simply buying things for other people, unless it was Shiro. Shiro had absolutely awful impulse control, Keith’s not that much better. His savings only went as far as saving for what he wanted, buying it, then looking at his abysmally empty bank balance sadly. There was no reason to really save when any mission could see him dead...

“Thanks. I’m not used to things like this”

“I can tell. Just... the camera isn’t me trying to buy your apology. Just so you know, I wanted to do something nice for you, with like, no strings attached... and now that this has gotten even more awkward, I’m off to get that red”

As Lance pushed his chair back, curiosity struck, Keith tilting the box in Lance’s direction

“Hey, Lance... Do you show up in these things?”

“Really? Photos, videos and mirrors... People wish they’d looked as good as I do dead. I mean, otherwise it’d be super suspicious when I didn’t show up in Pidge’s videos, when I let her film me”

“Oh... I hadn’t thought about that”

Lance snorted at him

“Some vampire hunter you are. Please don’t destroy my kitchen while I’m gone. Also, I grabbed some stuff so we can make pizza for dinner... I assume you don’t mind pizza and beer?”

Keith wrinkled his nose. That sounded like he was going to be cooking... and if the piece of shit toaster Lance used to have was anything to go by, then maybe that wouldn’t be the best idea. Lance was already walking towards the kitchen door

“I don’t know how to make pizza”

Raising his hand, the vampire waved his concerns off

“Then prepared to do the learn. Man, I’m going to have to teach you everything, aren’t I?”

“About vampires?”

“Nope. First you learn to do the human, then you’ll learn how to do the dead human. Don’t forget, I’ll hear you if you try breaking my kitchen... ow, fuck...”

Walking straight into the door frame, Lance rubbed at his forehead. Keith had no idea how Lance managed to walk into so many things and be so absolutely uncoordinated while in his own house. He wore glasses, shouldn’t that like help him see? Shouldn’t he have some kind of sense when he was getting too close to something? What kind of a vampire needed glasses? Lance didn’t make sense at all.

#once bitten #oncebittentwicestupid #once bitten twice stupid #klance #mpreg #voltron #vld au

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