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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

You were all I wanted Part 4

Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, human trafficking, allusion to dubcon, minor character’s death.

Words: 3309.

Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

P.S. Peter is an adult!

_____________

That night he was restless.

It had already been a month since you left the auction in Peter's car and started living in Stark's Tower. The evening when the boy shot a drug addict on the street was forever imprinted on your memory.

Apart from that, things were quite simple. Each morning you were waking up in the same bed as him, having breakfast together, and then staying alone in the room while Peter was gone to do whatever Mr. Stark wanted him to. Sometimes the kid wouldn't leave at all, sometimes he'd come late and drenched in someone else's blood. You helped him shower and clean his wounds if he had any. Well, miraculously, for the past month Peter didn't need stitches or anything of that kind. But you knew he wasn't always that lucky - his back and chest were covered in ugly scars, his wrists bore strange circular shape marks. The only reason you hadn't seen them the first night was because you were so terribly drunk.

The boy whined softly in his sleep, and you tried to shush him. Today he returned beaten up, anxious, and exhausted. He and Rhodes were hunting down someone from the gang who had gone completely mad, but Peter refused giving you any details. You suspected something really terrible had happened since the boy was hard to frighten.

And now he was crying, tossing and turning in bed. It was the first time you saw him like that.

"Peter, Peter wake up." You whispered, gently touching his shoulders. "Please."

It took you a few long moments before he had finally opened his eyes and stared at you, his breathing ragged, erratic.

"It's you. It's you." He mumbled, and you saw tears streaming down his face to the pillow beneath his head.

"Yes, it's me." You cooed at him and wiped the wet tracks with your hand, leaning down to kiss him in the forehead. "You're safe."

"Please, please don't go." The fear in his eyes made you stop as Peter gripped your hand in trembling his. "I'm not safe. I'm never safe."

What kind of nightmare was haunting him, making him shake so badly? He looked so scared, so vulnerable and defenseless, tearing up like a little kid. You had never thought you could pity a mobster, but you were wrong - you felt sorry for him.

Shifting on the bed that way that Peter's head came to rest against your chest, you buried your fingers in his disheveled hair and started caressing his head.

"You're safe with me, Peter." You whispered reassuringly, and he snuggled closer to you, throwing his hands against your body. "I'm staying with you. Come here, sweetheart."

He tried to nuzzle against your soft body so close as if he wanted to become a part of you quite literally. Peter let out a heavy sigh, and you felt the skin on your chest burning.

You spent a few more minutes in complete silence of the room, listening to each other's soft breathing. Although you had no intention of moving away from him, Peter clung to you as if his life depended on it. You were curious what he had seen in that nightmare of his, but you didn't say a word, knowing he needed time.

"It's so scary to be alone in the dark." Peter suddenly said, his grip in you getting a little tigther. "I need you to walk with me."

You blinked, unsure of what to say. Didn't he choose the darkness himself? Didn't he get accustomed to all the things he was doing? You remembered him killing that guy on the street without any regret. You were pretty sure Peter didn't feel anything. Were you wrong?

"If I came with you... Would you leave me there by myself after that? I'm scared of the dark, too."

He had finally let go of you upon hearing your words and gave you a bit of space, looking at your face intently.

"No, I wouldn't. I'm not Mr. Stark."

At first, you thought he was talking about Tony and his relationships with women, but then the realization hit you: Peter was referring to himself. It was him who was left alone. Despite you thinking he was very close to his patron - for God's sake, the man bought you as a present for the kid - things were rather different in reality. Maybe Mr. Stark treated Peter like a toy, too. Yes, the boy, surprisingly, had some authority in the gang as he was considered Rhodes equal, but maybe Peter didn't want that, or not only that. Maybe he wanted to be taken care of, to be shown some kindness for the things he was doing for his boss. It felt ridiculous suggesting that, but Peter's still wet face made you think that it could really be true.

"Do you know what are these?" Suddenly, the boy lifted his hand and showed you the marks on his wrist. When you squinted and shook your head, he smiled. "These are cigarette burns. I got them the first week Mr. Stark sent me to school here. I was twelve."

"Did he burn you?" Your gawked at his skin, shivers running down your spine.

"No, he didn't. The guys at school did. I hid it from Mr. Stark, but soon they crushed my head against the sink and I ran away bleeding." He chuckled at your horrified expression. "I thought Mr. Stark would come talk to the teachers or sent his guys, but instead he gave me a gun and said I had to earn my place in the gang. So I went to school with a gun in my backpack and shot one of the guys who bullied me."

You stared at him, hoping it was all about his very dark sense of humor - he had to be joking. Even though you knew what man Tony Stark was, how savage did he had to be to give a firearm to the twelve-year-old child who was bullied?

"Of course, Mr. Stark made it so the other kid was charged with the murder while I just walked away. After one month, I felt so guilty for what I've done that I attempted to end my own life by taking a whole a pack of sedatives."

When he brushed his hand against your cheek you realized you were crying at his words.

Sniffing, you brought his hand closer to you and lowered your lips to his wrist, kissing the marks on his skin. Peter's eyes went wide, but he didn't say a word at your gesture, and you touched each and every burn with your chapped lips while he watched you. Did it bring him any comfort? You hoped it did, because no words could describe how you felt once he finished talking.

No wonder you were the closest to a friend he had ever had. He wanted to have someone by his side so desperately.

"I will never do something like that to you." He whispered ever so gently, not smiling anymore. "Even if you're going to hate me or run from me... But please, please don't run. I need you. You don't understand, but I need you so much."

Slowly, you started kissing his fingers one by one, watching his eyelashes tremble. For some reason, you felt grateful for his sincerity as if it changed something. He was the only man to ever need you - and need you so desperately he was literally begging you to stay with him. It was stupid believing the one who held you captive here, but you still did.

You wanted him to need you more.

"I want to make love to you." He murmured, and one of his fingers touched your lower lip. "Can I? Please, Baby."

"What, now?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement. "But y-"

"Please." He breathed, and his finger slipped past your soft lips, forcing you to lick it, swirling it around your wet little tongue. "I wanna fuck your ass. You don't mind, do you? You took the toys so good yesterday."

You rolled you eyes at him, but obeyed, nonetheless, sucking his finger deeper into your mouth as if it were his cock. Well, you did like it when he kept playing with your ass the whole week.

"You're so good to me." His other arm was already lowering your pyjamas pants as Peter squeezed one of your buttocks, and then his fingers found your little tight hole. "I love you so much."

You grunted in response, feeling how he massaged the entrance with his fingertips, equally aroused and scared at his excitement.

_______________

One more month had passed. You were finally allowed to go out of your room all by yourself as members of the gang were assured you were completely harmless. The thought of coming back to your family had always lingered at the back of your mind, but you always pushed it away, knowing you might as well just go and shoot people you loved by yourself. Now you had seen what Mr. Stark was doing with traitors with your own eyes and you would never want to risk being in the same position.

Peter still treasured you. He had become way more creative in bed comparing with your first handful of weeks, but not that you could complain since giving you pleasure was among things he cared about the most. Besides, your relationship got even better as now he was slowly opening up to you about both his past and present. You no longer dreaded coming with him somewhere. The only thing that bothered you was a feeling that, somehow, Peter got even clingier, but you brushed it off. There could be nothing bad in his growing affection to you.

That day you were coming back from the communal kitchen - thankfully, most of the gang members didn't use it much as it was reserved for their women. The ones who came to cook there were more or less decent, so you weren't worried being close to them. Besides, the boy also gave you one of his guns. Just in case, he said.

Carefully opening the door to your room, you balanced with a heavy plate of chocolate chip cookies in the other hand and stepped inside. Instead of Peter you found Tony Stark sitting on the chair in his breathtakingly beautiful white suit. You held your breath and stilled, unsure of what to do. You had never faced Mr. Stark all by yourself. Were you even allowed to be here now? He clearly needed Peter, not you.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir, I'll return la-"

"It's quite alright, Y/N, come."

He remembered your name, really? It got you alerted.

You hesitantly closed the door, but didn't turn the key, leaving the plate on the top of the microwave standing on the side table. Did you have to offer the man your cookies? Would he be offended by that?

"I apologize, I didn't know you were coming, sir." You said softly, clenching the fabric of your simple cream-colored dress. "I'm sure Peter is going to return shortly... Um, w-would you like to have some cookies, sir?"

"Yes, please." He answered simply, and you brought him the plate immediately, feeling being something between a hostage and a servant to the crime boss. "Mm, not bad. My mother used to bake them, too."

"I'm glad you like it, sir."

You didn't know where to put yourself, knowing he watches you. Except for a chair near Peter's table and his bed there was nowhere to sit, but placing yourself on the top of the bed while there was a man in your room seemed to you absolutely indecent, so you awkwardly leaned on the wall. You prayed for Peter to come back soon, unsure of how you should behave with the most dangerous man you had ever known in the room.

He smirked at you, finally lifting his fancy sunglasses and hiding them in the pocket of his suit.

"I see you settled in nicely here. Do you enjoy living with the kid?"

You shivered, looking at his handsome face and nodding to him.

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Huh, is it Peter's gun you have there? Did he give it to you?" Tony pointed at the holster strapped to your belt - you knew it looked ridiculous, yet it was better to look ridiculous but have something to protect yourself, giving that you were living inside Stark's Tower. "Let me have a look."

"Of course, sir."

You didn't like taking the gun and giving it to the man, knowing perfectly he could shoot you right here and right now. You still remembered that perfectly innocent woman he murdered because she wanted to flee as well as all those ones he got rid of before her.

You did your best to look humble. In the end, you belonged to Peter, didn't you? He said many times that Mr. Stark wasn't taking back the gifts he'd made. If Peter was alright with you living here...

"I see he takes good care of you, dear. You look positively glowing." Tony had that odd smile on his face while looking at you.

"Yes, sir, he does. He's a very good man." You lowered your gaze to your shoes as blush spreaded across your cheeks. Although all this was definitely wrong, you still have very warm feelings towards Peter. Living with vultures for so many years, he was still able to treat someone with kindness.

You didn't see a subtle flash of anger on Tony's face, but he gathered himself rather quickly. Actually, he didn't come here for Peter. He sent him away to have a few moments with you instead.

It was true you were radiant when he was watching you from a far. What was the kid doing to keep you so happy? Did he give you pretty dresses? Jewelry? A car? Anything else? Tony made way more expensive gifts to his girls, but they were never satisfied, nonetheless. It seemed he was choosing some rotten whores over decent women over and over again despite all his efforts, but Peter got lucky with his first girl. Tony was almost ready to admit he was jealous.

So why were you special? He couldn't explain it with words, yet looking at your warm smile every time you saw Peter the man knew why his kid was so eager to return home every evening. Tony wanted to have this feeling, too.

"I could give you more than he does." The man said, and you choked on air, staring at him like a rabbit in front of a snake. "Peter's a sweet kid, but he's so inexperienced, you know. He has no clue what to do with a woman. I bet he doesn't even bring you to nice places or make you gifts, does he?"

Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it could stop any second. It wasn't good, oh shit it wasn't good for you. You had no idea how a man who was able to force the most beautiful women of the planet to attend to him could ever look at you, someone who wasn't even considered pretty by most people. Was it just because he wanted to see you suffer? Because he couldn't handle looking at a woman who was happy?

"But I already belong to Peter, sir. I am your gift to him." You smiled nervously, trying to be polite. "How do I dare to change my master?"

"Nah, the kid won't mind. I'll give him another girl, I promise." The man winked at you, and you realized he wasn't letting you go regardless of what you'd tell him.

You needed to run.

Before you reached the door he was on your back, grasping your hands in his and chuckling smugly. His other palm was already lifting the hem of your dress.

"Huh, you're not so submissive as you look. I like that." He whispered above your ear, grinding his hips against your ass.

"No, please, sir! I'm not good! I'm not good for you!"

He threw you on the bed you shared with Peter and took of his white suit jacket, watching you crawl away and smiling at your pathetic attempt to run from him. What a sweet little girl you were, he thought. You wanted to be loyal to someone like Peter when you had him offering you to take the place of his woman.

Before coming closer to bed he was taking off his pants, and you readied yourself to scream as loud as you could. Maybe Tony had your gun, but you had to do something. Maybe someone would come before the damage was done.

Who were you kidding? No one would come to protect you against the head of a crime family.

"Now be a good g-"

Before Tony finished the sentence you heard the lound crack of the door opening and then the sound of a gun. Although you intended to scream just a second ago, now you were silent, staring at the quickly growing bloodstain on his expensive white shirt. You suddenly remembered the drug dealer who died exactly like that.

Peter was standing in the doorway with his gun pointed at his own patron, and then he fired one more time. And one more. He seemed to calm down only when Tony fell on the bed, staining it's cover with his crimson blood. Once the boy looked up, you saw his hollow eyes as if he weren't even conscious.

"Peter." You muttered, your eyes full of tears. "He... Oh God."

He saved you. The boy shot that sick bastard before he could lay his dirty hands on you, but you weren't relieved. He killed Mr. Stark, the one who took him into the family and gave him roof above his head. Tony's people would tear Peter apart for his silly attempt to save you.

When he lowered his gun, you left the bed and came closer to him on shaky legs, swallowing your salty tears.

"Peter, you need to run. They'll kill you."

He reached out to your face and stroked your lower lip in awe. Apparently, he was as shocked with his own actions as you were, you thought, your eyes bleary with all those tears.

"Peter, please, you need to run. Leave me here, I'll be... a deadweight."

Before you could finish he had ushered you to come closer, pressing you against him and putting a hand on the top of your head like a parent to a crying child. His eyes were still hollow.

"Mr. Stark thought he could take whatever he wanted, but he was wrong." The boy whispered, and you cried out quietly at his words. "He thought you'd say yes, and I won't object, hahah."

"Peter, p-please. If you won't go..."

"Why should I go, Baby?" He left a tender kiss on your forehead, his tone of voice strangely calm, but frightening. "We can run Stark's family without a Stark in it, can't we, Rhodey?"

Amazed, you glanced straight ahead of you and saw heavy armed people waiting behind Peter's skinny figure. You recognized many of them as part of Peter's and Rhodes' team, but there were Tony's bodyguards and some other men you had never seen before. They stayed still, their eyes on the two of you and Stark's dead body laying on your bed. For some reason, no one aimed their guns at you. They just stood their and did nothing at all.

"No one's taking you away." Peter's voice turned sweet as he dropped his gun to the floor and his other hand rested on your back. "And I'm not going anywhere. You're my girl, Baby, and you gotta stay whatever happens."

THE END

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Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @msruchita @opheliadawnwalker3 @ifntelyinspirit

#peter parker x reader #dark peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker #spider man #spiderman #yandere

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handonhaven · 3 years

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I got to thinking things and now I have questions. I know none of these questions are at all important to the story at all. But this is just how my mind works at times lol.

So Landon and Cleo have been gone for about two weeks maybe. What I want to know is where did they get all these clothes from? I mean when Landon left he only brought a bookbag with him. That can only hold like what one, maybe two changes of clothes. And it didn't look like Cleo brought anything with her other than what she was wearing. Also where have they been staying? Or how have they been eating? It's not like they have any or very much money at all. And that can add up if you have to buy food everyday and renting a hotel/motel rooms. I know the obvious answer to this is magic or something like that. But at the same time I would like mention of it or something. Just like when Landon went into malivore at the end of 3x04 naked by the next time we saw him he's fully clothed.

Also after 3x15 how can people still say that Josie is a sweetheart? I'm sorry but I think she's far from it. I mean when she was 11 she read Lizzies diary claiming she wanted to understand what she was feeling as an excuse. But then went and showed it to other witches at the school. Causing Hope to overhear it and lose control of her magic and most likely caused the other witches to make fun of Lizzie behind her back. We already know about the fire she set to Hopes room. As well as everything else she's done since season 1. Who knows what else she might have done before the start of season 1. Look I'm glad the show is showing some more of the girls past trauma and acknowledging it. But when are they going acknowledge all the trauma Josie caused Hope and Lizzie? Because I'm getting a little tired of her always getting a free pass with that. I know that Josie does(or says) feels bad about it. But when will she make up for it or even I don't know say sorry for all the things she's done. I wish people would stop making excuses for her. Saying well she was just a kid. Or she was manipulated to do those things and under the control of black magic. She was 11 and 13 when she did those things in the past that's old enough to know better. Everything else she did that we know of she did when she was 16-17. That's definitely old enough to know better. And you can't blame it all on the black magic either. Because she wasn't under the control of black when she set Penelope on fire. Or when she made that girls nose bleed or when broke Ethan arms. I could go on but I think I made my point. I'm just tired of seeing her get a free pass all the time. It's just like when they give Lizzie a free pass all the time for all the terrible and horribly mean things she says to people. Because let's be honest at times she can be a real bully to people. I know she must have hurt people with the things she says.

I'm not bashing Lizzie and Josie or anything. I feel like they could really have the potential to be really great people when the grow up. But as of right now not so much. If I'm being honest Josie start it to go downhill in season 2 and Lizzie this season. I'm hoping next season will be better for the two.

That’s the kind of stuff I think about all the time haha. Have Landon and Cleo been gone for two weeks though? They’re never really clear on the time in this show, so I wasn’t sure. We know that 3x14 and 3x15 took place in one day and night, but who knows how much time was between 3x13 and 3x14, or between 3x15 and 3x16. But it seems they have been gone a good amount of time, so yeah, who knows where they got their clothes. Right? I don’t think Landon could’ve fit much in his backpack, and he left so suddenly too. Same with Cleo, it looked like she just had a backpack as well. Neither of them seemed very prepared to just go on the road for an indefinite amount of time. And also, Cleo had been in the artifact for how many hundreds of years? How is she even used to the modern world? She didn’t seem affected by anything at all when we first saw her, which would’ve been soon after she escaped. But she seemed pretty accustomed to everything, like surely she would never have been on a bus or know how all that works? Yet she was waiting at the bus stop, no big deal haha. And I’d guess they’ve been staying at motels? If that’s where they’re gonna be next episode, idk. But true, when it comes to eating, Cleo wouldn’t have money, but I think it’s possible that Landon might have some saved from when he worked at the grill, if anything? But still, that’s probably pretty limited. It’s all a bit ridiculous though, like Landon is nearly 20 years old, he might even be 20 already. Yet he doesn’t have a cell phone, a car, or anything. Neither does Hope. You’d think with all the money she must have from her family, that would provide all those things for both of them? So it’s strange. And maybe Cleo could be doing stuff with magic, though I’m not sure how, since it’s not like she can compel people. I feel like when it comes to details like these, the writers just don’t care. And I’m weird because I like knowing all the small details like that haha, but they’re so often ignored in so many shows, especially this one. And exactly! How on earth did Landon have clothes again after ending up in Malivore when he’d been naked? Malivore had made an ice cream shop for the Necromancer, did he make a clothing store too? It’s silly and makes no sense. And every time Landon would’ve died before, he should’ve come back naked because his clothes would’ve burned each time. Same thing with how in 3x10, when Hope was a werewolf and went back to her human form, she suddenly had clothes on. When in the past she’s been naked, and all throughout TVD and TO, Tyler, Hayley, etc. were all naked too. And Rayna Cruz as well, every time she was reborn. 😂 It’s like they don’t wanna bother with stuff like this anymore, because it’s inconvenient I guess?

And the whole thing with Josie is really frustrating. I agree with you. It’s annoying how they’ve written her this way, have revealed these things that she’s done, and it all continues to be excused. In the show, and with a lot of the fans. Yeah, once again we find out she hurt both Lizzie and Hope by doing something that was obviously wrong. Even if she really did only want to understand how Lizzie was feeling, what was her excuse for telling the other witches? As far as her starting the fire to Hope’s room, I can understand that more, when she panicked and it was an accident. But the way she handled it after is my main issue with that. She hurt both Lizzie and Hope again, and they both suffered for years because of it. And good point, who knows what else she may have done.

Yes, true, I’m glad they’re acknowledging their trauma as well, but exactly, they never acknowledge the fact that Josie caused so much of it, at least when it comes to their life at the school and being bullied and all that. I’m getting tired of her getting a free pass as well. It feels like the writers are so devoted to this perception of her they’ve created where she’s supposed to be so selfless and caring, that even when her actions contradict that, it’s ignored. She definitely needs to apologize or do something to make up for it. I mean, even in 1x12 when Hope and Lizzie found out what she did, she didn’t apologize I don’t think, she just seemed upset that they found out. And exactly, being younger doesn’t excuse what she did because she was old enough to know that what she did was wrong. So true, she was affected by black magic mostly at the end of season 2. She had been manipulated by Clarke in early season 2, which led to her breaking Ethan’s arm, but then afterward she said she had wanted to hurt him so... 😬 But yeah, I think besides what she did when she was dark Josie, she hasn’t really had to deal with the consequences of those other things she did.

And I totally agree with you about Lizzie as well. She’s definitely said horrible things to people, no one says anything about it. I guess because it’s “part of her personality” it’s okay? And also because a lot of what she says is written in a way that’s supposed to be comedic, so the fact that she is insulting people is dismissed because it’s “funny.” Idk, I know many people do think it’s funny, personally, I just don’t. Not my kind of humor, I guess. But yeah, very true, I think she has hurt people for sure. I think that was shown with the other students’ reactions at her “funeral.” Which I did not think was okay at all btw, that was messed up, but it did show that what she says has affected people. I mean, even with how she treats Landon, you can tell by his expressions that he does not like it. He just doesn’t say anything. So that’s an issue too that I doubt will ever be addressed since it’s so often used for humor, unfortunately.

But I get that. I know I’ve been negative about Lizzie and Josie and don’t mean to bash them either, I’ve just been bothered by a lot of what they’ve done. I also think they have potential too, and I think that’s why I get so disappointed by how they’ve acted at times. I loved them in TVD, so I was excited to see them older in this show. And it seemed like things were going in a fairly good direction with them in season 1, besides a couple things Josie had done that bothered me, but I still really liked both her and Lizzie. But yes, things did go downhill starting in season 2, for Josie in particular. And yep, Lizzie in this season too has definitely made my opinion of her change, sadly. It’ll be interesting to see what happens next with them. I do think it’s odd that it took 3 whole seasons just to get to the point they’re at now... but I do hope things will improve next season. I’m also curious to see if what they said to Hope last episode will be something they actually follow through on rather than just words, like has happened in the past. So I guess we’ll see! And wow, sorry that got long.

#answered

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whitherliliesbloom · 4 years

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yet with each descent do we rise again

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #26 - when pigs fly ]

[ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 2,548 words ] ★ [ fairy au ]

illya skawi & alphinaud leveilleur. in an au where il mheg is home to a nation of fae folk, all of whom are ruled by titania illya. mentions @ancientechos‘ laurelis, @firstblesssed‘s elletha and @windupnamazu‘s lunya. contains the origins / lore of porxies in this au. i also reveal illya’s fae name for the first time in this fic but who really cares-

if porxies were the manifestation of the impossible being made possible, why did the sight of them bring titania so much grief?

He’s seen no skies clearer than one that hung over Il Mheg, a testament to the majesty that was the fae folk and their magics, no doubt. Despite being told again and again by no few fairies and pixies alike that their kingdom was not how it used to be - her luster tarnished by the leeches that were the mortal race and the marks they’d left upon the land’s beauty - he, in all his ignorant mortal bliss, still believed the kingdom of rainbows to easily be the most beautiful place he’s had the fortune to set foot upon.

And as he greets the stunning soft gradients of blues and cotton candy white that was the sunny morning sky, looking up and being momentarily blinded by the scorching, yet welcoming sun above, he hears a flutter and a twinkle behind him, the back of his neck tickled by a light gust that urges him to spin around as quickly as his artificial rhotano blue wings would allow him.

“'Q-Quel amrun, Alphinaud!” A voice of exceeding melody, one that rose in the air and echoed in his ears like the gentle rustle of leaves upon the wind greeted him in a language he had not yet mastered, and he finds color rising up his cheeks as he takes far too many seconds to find the words to respond.

“A-and good morning to you, your majesty.”

Evidently pleased at his understanding her verbal fae tongue, the queen smiles wider than he’s accustomed to, and the radiance she exudes as if she were a beam of pure, unfiltered light almost sends him reeling.

“’Tis good to see fae blood still courses through your veins.”

Alphinaud bites back a chuckle, and he resists the urge to speak as he bows, watching beneath a curtain of thin lashes as the queen turns her head to breath in the scent of morning dew before directing her tender gaze towards the young man.

His gift - and by extension his duty was still something of an awkward point of conversation between him and the ruler of Il Mheg, despite knowing full well that this arrangement, as gloomy as it made him to remember, was only temporary. Once he finds the cure and the source of the curse, and fulfills his responsibilities as far as it pleased Titania, he will surely be made to leave. Il Mheg was no place for mortals, not after what they’ve done to the fae.

And he was still very much mortal, despite the ring of silver and golden flower embellishments he wore upon his finger, and the gossamer wings that sprouted from his back.

“What’s on your schedule today? Helping Beq Thon with those awful weeds again?” The queen asks, swinging her dainty little legs as she hovered just several feet above marble. Her crystalline wings flutter gently with uncanny grace like petals, and from their tips fell sparkling dusts like thistledown that swirled and were carried away with the chilly lake breeze. The flap of his wings by comparison were harsh and clumsy, and he’d very understandably been called a disgrace to all fairies by all who saw his poor attempts at flying as they do.

Thankfully not, he almost answers, but his conscious is immediately assaulted by a pang of guilt as he remembers the grace in which Illya had granted him stay within her kingdom, and the boundless amounts of kindness that not only she, but the other residents of the fae nation has shown him thus far. Instead he manages something of a forced smile before shaking his head. “I came to see if you needed any sort of assistance, your majesty.”

“Me?” The young fae widens her eyes, hand rising up to rest upon her chest. The limpid silken scarf that hung from her hands ripple upon the wind with her movements. “Oh.. No, no.. There’s nothing I need help with.”

“Is that so? Have you some sort of business outside the castle, then? If you do then, surely, there’s some way I can help you.”

A dust of pink spreads across her pallid cheeks and up to the tips of her pointed ears, but she is quick to hide her blush beneath the light shadows of her pure white bangs

“I-I was... just here to feed the porxies.”

“Porxies?”

As if summoned by the call of their name, a passel of squeaky porxies burst through the bushes, their sizeable ears flapping as they gathered around the queen and oinked in delight. Alphinaud is taken aback for but a moment, mouth agape as he watches Titania toss her pearlescent cane into the air. It sparkles for a moment before it morphs into a hefty palm-sized satchel that lands safely in the queen’s palms.

“Here you go. There’s enough for everyone, so don’t be greedy!”

Illya beckons to the porxies with a wave as she opens the sack, and the pungent smell of grime, rotten fruits and crushed flower paste sends him gasping and grimacing, to which the queen could only flash an apologetic wry smile for.

“Ah.. I’m sorry for the smell.. Their diet is rather um.. peculiar. ”

“N..No! Pray.. forgive me my response.. I was just.... surprised..” Alphinaud pauses, watching as the porxies feasted happily upon their breakfast completely unaware of the stench. “I never would have thought their appetite would be whetted by such... waste.”

With large chomps and nibbles, the porxies begin to disperse in number as they eat their fill from the queen’s gentle palms, the grime of their feed leaving a dirty black stain upon her otherwise supple, clean hands.

“They say one man’s waste is another’s treasure...” Illya murmurs as the second to last porxie in line flutters away, leaving the last of the pack to eat off the scraps of the scraps slowly, but gratefully. “W-well.. porxies, in this case.. But they help with cleaning up the trash by eating them.”

Despite the familiar euphony of her words, and the kindly gaze she held towards the lone porxie, he sensed a touch of melancholy, of a sadness that he knew she would hate for him to notice. It certainly must not have been the queen’s intentions - he knew it wouldn’t have been given her tendency for hiding any emotions that she deemed to be unqueenly of her. And if the accounts of her friends and advisor were to be trusted, it’s that Titania of all people bottled up a mountains worth of burden and sorrow inside herself - one she refused to show to anyone.

Alphinaud is silent as he watches her, glowing and mesmerizing in her beauty as she gently strokes the top of the porxies head as it squeals gleefully at her. He can swear the sun’s rays grow twice more incandescent as they shone through her shimmering, glassy wings in pink and purple hues like stained glass, only second to the warm, glittering hues of her eyes that reminded him of a field of lavender and violets.

She was ever like a beacon of effervescent light - not just to him, but to Il Mheg and her people. And yet she would not allow herself even the luxury of grieving, of showing her sadness to the world for fear of going against her duties. The divine royal sparkles that shone in her eyes were now clouded by the rain, of the hidden words she’s stopped herself from saying for who knows how long now.

And it pained him, enough to drive him to insolence, and he wouldn’t bemoan her if she thought to have him banished on the spot for it.

“What has you feeling so downcast, your majesty?”

His question sends panic rippling down her spine, and for a moment the queen gasps as she turns her head up to stare wide eyed at him. She thinks to shake her head furiously before flying away.. but caught in the headlights of his concerned, and frustratingly sincere gaze she gulps, and finally allows herself to frown.

It takes a lengthy silence, one accompanied by chirping and the distant chatters of the pixies, to be true.. but his attention is focused squarely on the lady, who places her palms on either sides of the porxies cheeks and narrows her eyes with a heart wrenching, upsetting look of defeat. And when she finally speaks, her voice no longer held the tone of a celebratory songbird, but like little windchimes, barely louder than a whisper as it rang amidst the drizzle.

“Do you happen to know where porxies came from, Alphinaud?”

The question causes his head to tilt curiously, and he answers with an honest ignorance.

“Are they.. not simply another type of fae?”

“Well... yes and no. They’re um... like you.” Illya strokes the porxies skin lovingly, as if in apology for speaking of it. But its beady eyes remain bright and naive as it looks up at its queen as if she meant the entire world to it. “They’re not fae born.. They were made into fae by a Titania.”

The queen closes her eyes, heaving a sigh through barely parted rosy lips.

“There was once a saying.. A figure of speech that I believe is of mortal origin.. but it was spoken by fae folk once too. ‘Iire beag roi’.. Referring to the concept of impossibilities.” Slowly Titania leans her head forward to nudge the porxies snout with her forehead, a sorrowful sign of affection before it sounds out a snort of delight and flutters away.

“Titania had a son - Ose Iala was his birth name.. But he always preferred the names of mortals far more than one of his fae. And he kept that fascination of mortals and the outside world even as he grew older, old enough to voice out his disdain for our rules against executing mortals who stepped inside Il Mheg soil.

‘The day mortals and fae will ever coexist is the day pigs will fly’, Titania did say with a mocking glare towards Ose Iala.. and the prince, in his fury towards his father’s stubborn intolerance, casted a spell upon a herd of pigs that wandered into Il Mheg from a farm in Lakeland.”

Alphinaud’s heart sinks into his stomach as he listens, expression awash with pity as he looks upon Titania tilting her head up to the sky, galaxy worn eyes tired and wary. And though he needn’t hear the rest of her words to know what.. or who exactly she was referring to, he allows her to pour what little bits of her caged heart she had the courage to share.

“My father.. He made the impossible possible, preached that there was no such thing as impossibilities to his people and told me the same when I was but a sprout who barely just learned to fly. And he made the impossibility of fae folk existing with mortals a beautiful, wonderful reality.”

Il Mheg has changed more within the past 3 generations than it did with the countless millenniums before then, for better or for worse.. The name of the Titania who brought about this tide of change was scorned by most of the fae kingdom and forgotten by the mortals who had seen Il Mheg as nothing but pools of gil and resources they could steal from.

But that was a cruelty and a despair that has wrongfully be thrust upon the Titania of the present - of the one who bears the heaviest burden of them all. For beneath the opulence of her glamorous, glittering dresses and the pristine gemstones upon her flowery tiara, she was but a young girl - a fae equivalent to a mortal of teenage age, who has lost family and freedom both. And above all else, the lonely little fairy was now shackled with duty, of her obligations to undo the mistakes Ose Iala had done to blemish their kingdom.

“And yet... despite the miracle I’ve been granted, I’m worthless as queen. I cannot save my people.” Her hands clench into fists, and blood drains from her knuckles and threatens to pour out of the cuts her nails leave as imprints upon her palms. “Forget Feo Sul, I...I’m not worthy of bearing the mortal name Illya either.”

Alphinaud mutters her name beneath his breath, and the sweetness that is left on the tip of his tongue as he does causes his heart to skip a beat. Feo Sul. The flower of treasures. Despite what Titania might say, the young scholar knows better than any other that her name fits perfectly better than any other fae or mortal he might ever meet.

“But you have saved your people. The fae are able to find hope to renew Il Mheg because of you.” With a furrowed brow, Alphinaud hovers forward, daring himself to lift his hand and rest over clenched fists.

“Elletha tells me of how much you work to keep the infirmary running, casting your magics so hard that the palms of your hands would start burning and she’d have to stop you. I’ve heard from so many pixies that the fairy that appears at night, Lunya... she was once a mortal that you saved from death despite her being a plunderer.” His words at once cause her eyes to water, but also soothes the tension in her hands, and she finds her fingers relaxing against his reassuring grasp.

“And Laurelis.. Whenever I speak to her, she wouldn’t stop talking about you! About how you sacrificed some of your own royal blood to feed the soil of Timh Gyeus on the first day after your coronation so that flowers would bloom again.. Or how you dove head first into the longmirror lake to rid the waters of the litter and oil.”

“A-Alphinaud.. P-please-”

“Or how you caught frost on your wings as you dug through the snowy mountains for a week looking for tsasan setgel.. Or the way you ripped the cursed thorns the Fuath had grown around the pillars of Lyhe Ghiah as a prank with your own bare hands because you could not bear the thought of having anyone else do so! ”

His hand tightens its hold, fingers laced and intertwined with the gaps of her own as he moves closer and raises his voice. So that she will hear him, so that she will listen, and face the reality of her own kind deeds even if she’d refused to thus far.

“You’re the miracle Il Mheg needed. The fact that you yet stand, strong and tall as you are despite everything you’ve been through, that is a miracle above all others.”

The tears that trickle down her cheeks and falls off her chin glisten as little gems, reflecting off the rays of the morning sun with a rainbow hue that he feels tempted to catch with his fingers, were they not occupied with holding hers. And the tiny panic he feels in his beating heart dissipates as when she sniffs, and forces a glowing smile upon her face.

“ Iire beag roi.. How silly a notion, I’m nothing of the sort.”

And Alphinaud smiles back, eyes narrowing as he feels her fingers wrap around his in return.

“ gu dearbh. Pigs already fly, remember?”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #alphinaud leveilleur #illya skawi #alphinaud #we've come so far #fanfic #mine #fairy au #fairy queen au #kiwisffxivwrite2020 #wow who still remembers this au #of course! nobody!

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riviae · 4 years

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what if geralt catches regis looking in the mirror, tells him to close his eyes, and starts softly touching different parts of his face and describing them to him. or he has someone paint a portrait for him to look at instead ;_; im sorry your post made me sappy

It became an odd habit of sorts–checking his nonexistent reflection in the mirror–Regis realizes as he brushes off specks of dust from his jerkin. The standing-length mirror situated in the corner of his crypt had been a bit of an inside joke at first–he was already a vampire living in a cemetery, after all; what was stopping him from indulging in a few more lighthearted jokes? He already felt a secret pleasure at the garlands of garlic and collection of silver utensils he kept in his makeshift abode, so it was only in due time that he picked up an antique mirror from one of the stalls in the Beauclair marketplace, careful to keep the glass wrapped in a heavy, dark green fabric until it safely passed the threshold of his home.

And so the mirror remained, half-hidden in a dusty corner of the mausoleum, a few stray candles on a nearby table offering only a meager flicker of light. Not that Regis needed the candles either, but candles were a very human invention and one the vampire knew made humans feel just a little bit safer. Even if his only human visitor nowadays was Geralt, a witcher who could see perfectly fine in the dark, he had grown accustomed to the warm orange glow, the way the tiny beacons of light reminded him of his time spent amongst humans, learning and growing into the person he was today.

Just as Regis moves to adjust the cuffs of his shirt, he hears it: a familiarly slow heartbeat and with it, the faintest whiff of blood. Not Geralt’s, thankfully, but as the witcher grew closer, Regis could tell that he had recently bathed and cleaned his armor–it was his swords that carried the scent of old blood–both monster and human–a scent that could never be washed out completely. The swords had spilled so much blood despite Geralt’s best attempts at pacifism. He was a kind-hearted man by nature, but he knew when his only option was to kill.

“Hey,” the witcher greets, an easy grin upon his face. He meets his own gaze in the mirror before his eyes dart to the vampire. “Hmm… thought you hated mirrors.”

Regis turns away from the mirror, giving the witcher a fond look. “I hate that I have to avoid them. It’s the same with dogs, sorcerers, and telepaths–I have no hatred for them, I just dislike that I must go out of my way to avoid them.”

“I remember us having this conversation before. Think that was the first time I saw you really smile.”

“Is that so?” Regis begins, “Your memory is impeccable as always.”

“Only for certain things. Certain people,” Geralt replies, giving a tired shrug of his shoulders.

The admission, no matter how casual, sends a pleasant thrum of warmth through the vampire. For a man allegedly devoid of emotions, Geralt had quite a way of expressing them. Regis didn’t bother hiding his teeth as he smiled, lips pulling into a wide, happy grin.

“Careful with those fangs. Someone’s bound to notice,” Geralt teases.

“The only prying eyes here are the dead so I don’t think I have much to worry about.” With a lighthearted roll of his eyes, Regis turns back to the mirror, fiddling with his cuffs yet again.

Geralt’s voice suddenly sounds distant–but perhaps that isn’t the right word. Regis knows what grief sounds likes, the hollowness of it, the way it echoes in the emptiness of what was lost; the witcher’s voice sounds bereaved, but there’s an underlying fondness to it. It’s reminiscent; hopeful, even. “Remember when we first got to Beauclair? How everyone crowded into your room to get ready for the banquet?”

Regis huffs out a laugh. “How could I forget? Angouleme came in brandishing a pair of garden shears and asked me to cut her hair.”

“You even humored everyone with your floating scissors routine.”

Regis grew silent, unable to stop the flurry of memories that Geralt’s words had conjured up.

There was Milva begrudgingly slinking into the chair in front of the mirror to let Regis trim her bangs, expression softening as the rhythmic motions of having her hair cut lulled her into a light doze. When she stirred, she gave Regis a serious look and thanked him for his services. Whether she knew that the vampire had noticed her slipping out into the stables near the palace to cry at night, had noticed the tired bags under her eyes, and had helped her fall asleep peacefully for the first time in weeks, Regis wasn’t sure, but he did know that it wasn’t long until Milva began saving him a seat beside her during breakfast.

There was Cahir, usually silent and pensive, who suddenly showed a polite interest in all things related to Regis’ culture as a higher vampire. It was a unique parallel that they shared, both being sojourners in lands they did not belong to. Beauclair was as close to home as Cahir had been since Ciri–and then Geralt–had spared his life despite his connections to the Nilfgaardian Empire. Perhaps he had simply been feeling homesick as he sat in front of Regis’ mirror, invisible hands carefully trimming the are of his head where an axe nearly severed his scalp from his skull.

Even Dandelion had stopped by his room at some point, waxing poetic about the Duchess while Regis ran a brush through the musician’s long, blond curls. Their conversation drifted easily from topic to topic, spanning the arts and politics until undoubtedly returning to news about their company. Dandelion had always shown a near selfless interest in Geralt’s safety, that much was obvious to Regis, and only solidified that, despite appearances, the man was a genuinely good friend to have.

Then, his mind drifted to Angouleme. Perhaps the greatest tragedy of Stygga–he preferred to think of happier times, of happier memories, of the lopsided grins and loud laughter that she brought every day to the breakfast table while they wintered in Beauclair. And, of course, her endearing antics, which only increased in creativity when she realized that Regis had no reflection.

When he finally spoke aloud, his lips twist into a wistful smile. “Ah, that was quite funny, wasn’t it? That was the first time anyone–human, vampire, or otherwise–saw my lack of reflection as interesting, as something to be explored and, dare I say, something endearing about me. I enjoyed having dear Angouleme on my shoulders… even if she did kick me a few times by mistake during her theatrical performance.” Regis pauses, his hands reaching on reflex for the leather strap of his satchel that wasn’t there. Instead, his hands found purchase in the fabric of his jerkin, fingernails scraping harmlessly against the surface. “You know, I would do it all again. Even knowing what I do now, knowing how this all eventually ends, I wouldn’t trade my time with our little rag-tag group for the world.”

“Neither would I,” Geralt affirms, reaching over to squeeze Regis’ shoulder. The vampire was acutely aware of how his touch lingered there, the warmth and weight that radiated from the man’s simple comforting gesture.

The reflection in the mirror shows only the witcher, one hand stretched out into the dark, grasp loose and empty.

“It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?” Regis says. “It’s like I’m not even here. Without a reflection, it almost looks as if you’re talking to a ghost. It was difficult after Stygga to piece my body back together. Even with Dettlaff’s help… I was, well, I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I was convinced for some time that I was truly dead. There was nothing left of me aside from my consciousness. And once I did grow strong enough to begin the arduous process of becoming flesh and blood again, I had no real memory of myself to work with. I could only build back my appearance based on how I’ve heard other people describe me, of how Dettlaff described me when I was naught but a bloody smear in a dish.”

“Well, I think you did a good job,” Geralt replies, watching his own reflection as he–almost as if driven by instinct, some vestigial trait from the few vampire genes that were added to his mutated genome–reached up to gently cup the right side of Regis’ face. He knew exactly where Regis was, knew him well enough to reach out while his gaze remained fixed on the mirror, as if he was actually there beside him in the glass. It was only when he spoke again that he met Regis’ eyes, voice barely above a rumble. “You look a bit older, a bit more world-weary, but I recognized you immediately.”

Regis immediately leaned into the touch. Here, in the privacy of the crypt, he allowed himself a brief respite. He had spent so long trying to hide parts of himself, to hide the parts of himself that had realized long ago that he had fallen for the witcher. But now, after all the weighty events they had lived through, Regis was tired–and this, the warm hand on his face, the feeling of a sword-callused thumb rubbing absentmindedly at the high point of his cheekbone… it threatened to undo him entirely. He knew Geralt would never so much as point his sword at him now, unable to even think about harming him despite his relative immortality–and yet, the steady, consistent thrum of affection he felt for the witcher? It sometimes felt like it was cutting him to pieces, reshaping him into something that would rather turn into a pillar of ash than never see Geralt again–but it also felt a lot like love. Adoration. A warmth in his chest at the sight of the white-haired witcher, gold eyes lidded in contentment whenever his gaze wandered over to Regis.

“It’s really a shame you can’t see yourself,” Geralt says, hand drifting into Regis’ hair, gently combing a few dark grey locks behind his ear. “But I can help… if you’d let me.”

Regis inhaled sharply, unable to do anything but give a shaky nod of his head, mind spinning. He feared what he might say, what tightly-held secrets he’d divulge for Geralt alone, his thoughts centering upon a simple mantra: I’m not alone in these feelings–I can’t be…

Geralt’s thumb traces the edge of the vampire’s brow almost reverently and Regis can’t help but shiver at the touch. “You’ve got dark, thick eyebrows mixed with a bit of grey and silver. It suits you. You didn’t always have as much grey in your hair as you do now… but I like it. Feels right, somehow.”

The witcher’s hand drifts to the corner of the vampire’s left eye, index finger curled underneath a few black lashes of his bottom eyelid. “Your eyes are dark–almost as black as your eyelashes. It isn’t easy to see the separation between your iris and pupil. It makes it difficult to tell what’s going on in that head of yours sometimes, but I like that. Sometimes it’s too easy to read people. Ah, and you’ve always had a very obvious set of crow’s feet in the corner of your eyes. It just means you’ve smiled plenty. That you’ve been happy, and that even subconsciously, you were aware of the happiness you felt, that you let it show on your face after regenerating.”

He continued, stepping away for only a moment, as if he were trying to put Regis’ entire visage to memory. As if this would be the only time he would get to see him like this again: unguarded, open, hopeful, a vulnerable side that clashed so obviously with his near immortality as a higher vampire. Geralt smiled, drawing closer yet again. “Hmm… your features all together make you look aristocratic. Like I’d see a painting of you in a castle. You’ve got an impressively crooked nose and a sharp jaw. Your cheekbones are high too and you’ve got a few wrinkles on your forehead that make you look distinguished. You’re stunning–you’ve always been stunning. ”

“Geralt…” Regis breathes, tone bordering desperation. “Please…”

Wordlessly, Geralt closed the gap between them with a kiss, hands cupping Regis’ face. The vampire encircled his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, closing his eyes as he felt the tension in his body disappear. There was only the touch of Geralt’s lips against his own, the warmth of his hands against his cheeks, and the heart-tugging realization that he was truly home. It didn’t matter where he was, so long as Geralt was with him. Because Geralt knew him, knew all of him–the dark, the ugly, the cowardly, the parts of himself that kept him teetering on the edge of relapse–and still loved him.

It had always been Geralt who saw him–the one person he trusted to be his mirror, to help him see the parts of himself that were worth loving. And it had made all the difference.

#geralt of rivia #emiel regis #geralt x regis #so sorry this took so long ;v; idk how but the drabble got away from me #love the idea of geralt being regis' own moral mirror so to speak #as well as just pointing out all the physical features he loves #anyway i'll probably edit this more later & upload it to ao3 when i get the chance!! hope y'all enjoy it~#[frantically cleans out drafts]

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moontheoretist · 4 years

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In the third post about episode 10th of Hoshiai no Sora I want to highlight everything else portrayed, cute and sad alike. So let’s start from GREAT RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN MAKI AND HIS MUM. Because this is precious thing we get in every episode and I cannot stress how much I love that! Also the fact that they actually talk like normal people is stunning. I want to have a parent like that, who listens to me and tells me why she cannot be somewhere where it would be nice if she was, because I will perform there. If I had Maki’s mum as my parent my life would be so much better, just saying. We stan Maki’s mum!

Below the cut you will find:

1. Oji Arashi and his detachment from real life. (Pretty obvious stuff, sorry).

2. Rintaro’s meeting with his mum foreshadowing.

3. Praising the relationship between Rintaro and Itsuki.

4. Takada Kei as rare female role model for boy’s club.

5. Touma and Student Council President meeting.

6. Kasuga Kaori’s quick analyze.

7. Toxicity of fans vs Mitsue.

Another thing shown in the episode was Arashi’s complete obliviousness of the life of the people in the world around him. I mean there wasn’t much about him other than establishing him as someone who doesn’t know how real world works and that people don’t usually drag made at home food with them around, and that he can be easily persuaded to talk when he gets the food he wants, but also there was something else there to him. We all know that Arashi is self-centered prince like character, who thinks he is awesome in everything, but it looks like not everybody thinks in the same way about his behavior.

The twins Arashi met today definitely think of him as if he was the dumbest person on earth. Though important thing here is that Arashi's business with the twins sounded either as if they thought he chose bad school or as if Misaki school got tough route through tournament. For both of them it is very funny that Arashi thinks he is this one person who can ensure his school victory and twins just couldn't take it without laughing it off as a good joke. They are also the only people whose strength Arashi not only acknowledges but also explicitly points out that they are more awesome than he is in general. If I was to call him anything I would say he is Naruto Uzumaki type of character, just without emotional trauma of being the most hated orphan in the village attached.

I feel a little bad for him though, mostly because he is being treated like animal to feed and get information from by Maki. Maki, that’s not cool! But to be fair, Arashi isn’t without blame here too, because he literally treats Maki as the free food supply and didn’t even give him money back for everything he ate. He is a rich boy after all, he thinks everything should be handed to him on silver plate. It was his life all those years, so he isn’t even able to consider it’s not normal.

Next thing is Rintaro’s meeting with mum. There is not much to say about that to be honest, because it’s just a short scene put out here in order to establish future storyline in regard to Rintaro’s life. It didn’t even manage to affect the game he played. Just like Nao’s problems with his mum didn’t show up too. Everybody were so focused on the match that nobody really thought about their real life problems, too preoccupied with actually trying to win the games.

Though I wonder what this whole thing with Rintaro’s knee is supposed to foreshadow as well, because it like appeared out of nowhere, but also it seemed that whole club knew about that before, outside Maki who noticed it during the match. Is it some drama-related injury or just regular thing which Rintaro dealt with all his life? It really made me wonder if the two situations, his knee condition and his mother’s sudden wish to meet him aren’t by any chance related. I am also worried what losing a match because of a knee can do to Rintaro, considering he feels as much responsible for the club as Shinjo does, but just shows it in different way, by self-blaming himself for “being useless”. It like screams drama to me. Rintaro really wanted to win this! Rintaro! ToT

Also once again I want to point out another great dynamic between the pair shown. Just like in the cases of Shingo/Tsubasa and Taiyo/Nao, here we also can see how great companions Rintaro and Itsuki are to each other. They do not blame one another for mistakes and Itsuki really tried to make Rintaro as relaxed as it’s possible by bringing up Takada. To be honest I loved the fact that he actually mentioned her, because it’s not only a sweet and tasty female character praise based on the fact that female soft tennis club is really a big deal, which is rare in sports anime, but also that they both look up to Takada as a player.

It’s also worth pointing out, that when Rintaro’s leg starts giving up Touma isn’t really mad because of that. It’s one from probably two situations in the whole episode when Shinjo is actually calm and at peace with what is happening.

Second time when he is calm and collected happens in the most unforeseeable circumstances for him as a character, meaning when Student Council President comes to the soft tennis courts to inspect the clubs. I was really surprised that Touma wasn’t at all angry, but it just speaks a lot about how quickly he can get over something bad if he finds a way to reforge it into something good. In this case he reforged Student Council President’s decision to disband his club into motivation and necessary pressure which his teammates needed to become better at soft tennis. He also acknowledges that they were slacking off before.

Speaking of which I loved that we also got another glimpse into Student Council President personality with this one worried “Am I a bully?”, which speaks volumes about how insecure she feels about herself. We knew that she comes from a rich house and didn’t really want to go to the school, which she goes now and that her mother and grandmother both use different names to address her, because both see Kaori as someone else and enforce that by using those names and treating Kaori in different ways to be sure that she grows the way they want her to grow. But Kaori also isn’t stupid, and plays their game by allowing herself to act as they wish her to act, while in truth she has her own vision of herself which she realizes outside her mother and grandmother influence. Part of that vision is probably making school run better than it did before, hence why she was so adamant about closing clubs which waste funds. It doesn’t though mean that she doesn’t doubt herself, because of authority she has and the way she acts, which this one glimpse of anxiety expresses so well. Also the fact that Touma is the one who assures her she is fine and right about what she says was so heartwarming OMG! He is such a good person! ToT

The last and probably the most important thing for me as an artist was the mention of world reaction to Mitsue’s art style and theme change on her artistic twitter account. Her fans literally bashed her over that, which not only shows how internet pressure looks like from the perspective of the creators, but also highlights the toxic fandom practices of pushing creators to change back to what they were before, because “they liked them more that way, and they hate the new them”. This practice can be powerful when it’s about social justice and ensuring that big companies won't leave out or misrepresent minority groups, but it has also the darker side which always presents itself as bunch of people being shitty and disrespectful to their favorite creators in hope their abuse will change them back to the image they are the most accustomed to and prefer to see. Yes, that’s abuse, the worst kind of abuse to be honest, which can make artist quit. The second those fans do not get what they want they start acting like entitled fans and white male gamers combined. I do not want to draw a line between gender here, because I believe some of those nasty people were girls as well, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this behavior was the exact same which I saw in every “white male gamer” who made a drama of every game in which female character is treated as she should be, as a person instead of an object. And I think it’s important to point out here due to the fact that Natsuko is known mostly from drawing goth stuff, probably mostly young women, and we knew before that her fans were all squealing over the so called “knee-skirt” gap, which all on it own was already sexist and disgusting for me to be honest.

And this is what I want to tell all of them! SCREW YOU! Also I am happy that the hate she got didn’t discourage Mitsue, and she still posted the last picture.

#hoshiai no sora spoilers #hoshiai no sora #mitsue kanako #rintaro futsu #itsuki ameno #kasuga kinuyo #kasuga kaori #shinjo touma #takada kei #katsuragi maki #itsuse brothers #arashi oji

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sixqueendom · 4 years

Text

New Fanfic: If Only You Would Listen, Chapter 2

So, after having a few requests to, I’ve decided to post my new fic on here as well as AO3. If you would prefer to read on AO3, I have included the link below! No real warnings for this one. Just the usual angst I'm sure you've grown accustomed to with my fics if you’ve read any of my previous work!

A huge thank you to Phoebe (@theatergirl06), Lilac (@timetoriseabove) and Blue (@pen-and-a-microphone) for beta-reading this fic! You guys are the best!

AO3 Link -----------------

When Catherine slowly entered Jane’s bedroom, she found her curled up in a ball on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, sobs racking her whole body. It was clear that Kitty’s cruel words had crushed her, broken her heart. Kitty had, in her moment of turmoil, struck the older woman’s weakest point and brought her tumbling down. Now, hearing her cry, Catherine felt a desperate need to console her. She perched herself on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on Jane’s arm. This prompted Jane to prop herself up, making a futile attempt to wipe her tears, before Catherine enveloped her in a warm hug.

“You know she doesn’t mean what she said,” she soothed, stroking her hair comfortingly as Jane continued to sob into her shoulder. “She’s just taking her frustration out on you.”

Catherine was furious with the younger girl for her sudden outburst and, in particular, the unnecessary tirade fired at Jane. Yes, she had to admit that there were occasions when even she thought Jane was being a little overbearing on the youngest Queen, but she knew Jane had always been full of good intentions. Jane simply doted on Kitty. The motherly woman looked out for them all, but it was Kitty she had formed a particularly strong bond with. Catherine assumed it served as a coping mechanism for Jane, like a substitute for the loss in her past life. It was undeniable that anyone could ever replace her beloved son, but she’d seen Kitty, the young, sweet girl who had been so unloved in her past life, as an opportunity to be some kind of a mother and fulfil a desire she’d yearned for for years. To help nurture and care. She was so thoughtful: she always baked them their favourite cakes for their birthdays. She was patient, always willing to listen and offer sound and sensible advice. And, on the rare occasions where disputes and minor altercations broke out, she was the referee, always finding a fair solution or compromise and ensuring a reconciliation. Jane was undoubtedly the glue that held them all together. Without her, they would all simply fall apart. So, when it was Jane who was in pieces, none of the Queens knew how to pick up the broken parts.

After a few minutes, Jane’s tears began to subside.

“Am I really that overbearing?”

Catherine drew back so she could face her properly.

“There’s no excuse for what she said back there. None at all, and I don’t condone it. But the trouble with Kitty is that she’s never really experienced the unconditional love and care that you provide. Let’s face it, the poor girl was pretty much on her own, left completely to her own devices. I mean, she really did have a terrible upbringing. She was shunned by her parents, who showed little interest in her, then passed on to a neglectful stepmother who was responsible for the sorry mess that damaged her in the first place. She’s never had any guidance on how to navigate life, or been shown any affection. So, perhaps her idea of love is a bit skewed...a bit different from what say, you and I, would consider love to be. So to her, maybe it seems a bit much.”

Jane kept her head bowed. When she didn’t speak, Catherine continued.

“Oh, Jane.” She gave the woman’s hand a squeeze. “We all know you only want what’s best for her. She’s very lucky to have you.”

Jane gave a small smile. At least Catherine understood her. But there was another issue that was also gnawing away at her.

“We should never have shut her out of our conversations like that,” Jane shook her head despondently. “We assumed what we were doing was the right thing, but…” She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. Their attempt at keeping Kitty from getting upset had been futile.

Catherine sighed in resignation. “Maybe we should have included her more. But again, we were just doing what we all thought was for the best. We were trying to protect her.”

The group had collectively made the decision the morning after one of Kitty’s particularly bad nightmares. It was clear that the girl suffered enough in her sleep, so they decided to try and avoid certain topics when she was around, not wanting to add to her distress or further exacerbate her already horrible nightmares. It had been Anne who had prompted them, voicing her concern and wishing that she didn’t have to console her distraught cousin most nights. They had all agreed, some more enthusiastically than others, hoping their decision would shield Kitty. How wrong they had been. Instead of keeping her at a safe distance, they had inadvertently pushed her away.

“I know you don’t like to leave things unresolved, but I think on this occasion it’d be best to sleep on it…let everyone have the chance to calm down. We’ll see how we all are in the morning.” Catherine had to admit she was tired, longing for the comfort of her bed. She got up to leave, but not before giving Jane another quick hug.

“What about Anna?”

Jane hadn’t missed the slamming of the door, followed by Kitty’s soft cries as she hurried upstairs. She’d assumed it had been Anna who had left, knowing the German had little patience with arguments and often knew when to walk away.

“I’ll have Cathy listen out for her coming home. She won’t have gone far,” Catherine assured, pausing at the door. “Try and get some sleep.”

------------------------

Anna had decided to escape the chaos and clear her head with a walk. Whenever she was upset or angry, she always knew fresh air would help calm her down, rearrange her jumbled thoughts and make sense of what had happened. It helped ground her again.

She’d been appalled at Kitty’s eruption, but the final straw had been targeting Jane. Yet, she hadn’t exactly set a good example herself. She too was guilty of firing words that she hadn’t meant. Now, she was beating herself up for uttering those harsh words. So, really, was she any better than Kitty?

Unbeknownst to the youngest Queen, it had been her and Jane who had been most opposed to the suggestion of cutting Kitty out of conversations concerning their past lives. They had, after some convincing, agreed, but reluctantly. Anna had felt the urge to defend her loyal friend in her absence, to make her case heard. She knew that the rest of them underestimated Kitty. Anna knew from their friendship in their past lives that behind that seemingly quiet, reserved facade was an intelligent and strong girl, with more resilience than anyone could ever know.

How long had this been brewing? How long had Kitty been dismissing her true feelings, pushing them to the side, tolerating their behaviour towards her and making her feel...worthless? How long had this hurricane been building before it finally reared its ugly head? What’s more, how had she missed the signs?

As a friend, Anna felt like she’d let Kitty down in that respect. She should have checked in on her more, sought her out during quiet times of the day to see if she wanted to talk. Instead, she had continued as normal, not taking into consideration the impact their decision as a group could have on the younger girl. Of course she was eventually going to wake up and realise something was amiss. They had been foolish to think otherwise.

She would talk to Kitty as soon as she got home, Anna vowed there and then. She would apologise for her hurtful comment, try to make amends, prove how much she meant to her as a friend.

Anna owed her that much.

--------------------------------

Anne lay in the darkness, filled with guilt. It had been her idea, hadn’t it? She thought she’d been suggesting the best thing to help her cousin. Clearly traumatised from her past, Anne just assumed it was for the better if the Queens didn’t discuss any topic she’d find triggering in her presence. Whether it be interview preparations or just casual conversation, Kitty was not to hear any details or reminders of her past life. Instead of helping, it had only frustrated the younger girl, making her feel excluded from the group. That, alongside Jane’s maternal fussing, had left her feeling like a child.

She decided to text Kitty, hesitating on the “Send” button. When she gained her resolve and sent the message, she heard the reassuring “ping” through the wall. She waited in anticipation, hoping her cousin would be willing to respond. The response never came. After fifteen minutes, Anne sent another message. Half an hour later, Anne, growing concerned, finally knocked on Kitty’s door. No response. Anne tentatively opened the door a crack. Still nothing. When the door fully opened, she gasped. The room was empty. In her confusion, Anne didn’t hesitate to press the call button. Her face paled as she heard the familiar ringtone, her eyes drawn to the lit up screen of Kitty’s phone on the bedside table.

Anne fell to her knees.

Kitty was gone.

---------------------------

As soon as Kitty left the house, she had withdrawn as much cash as she could out of the nearest ATM before purchasing a new Oyster card at the Tube station and riding to Leicester Square, where she hoped to blend into the crowds. It was one of the benefits of London being so busy; it was easier to hide in amongst the throngs of tourists and commuters. Sitting on the Tube alone, though, surrounded by complete strangers, she could feel herself getting anxious. Her determination began to falter; the cracks beginning to show. She forced herself to take some deep breaths, counting the stops until she could make her escape.

She walked the streets aimlessly for an hour, just allowing her feet to take her anywhere. She wandered amongst couples, families, businessmen...people from all walks of life. All with a purpose. Everyone around her went about their evenings, and Kitty began to imagine their stories. That man in the smart blue suit was heading home to a loving family, a wife and two kids who would wrap their arms around him as soon as he got through the door. The young love-struck couple, walking hand in hand, were out on their first date, probably heading to the cinema to see a comedy and kiss in the back row. Then there was her, with nowhere to go. No destination in mind, no family or loved ones to go home to. As she grew more and more tired, she realised she had no real plan. She decided to check-in to a nearby hotel using a false name, figuring she could think straight in the morning after some rest.

But once she was settled into her room, it didn’t take long for loneliness to creep in. Realising it was later than she initially thought, she decided she should at least attempt to sleep. Crawling under the covers, wrapping herself up like a cocoon, Kitty prayed for sleep. But, in this unfamiliar place, with the constant hum of a city still alive even this late outside her window, it was useless. Instead, she found herself taking out the photo again. She gazed at each of their faces, tears pricking in her eyes as she realised the familiar ache in her heart. She missed them.

Cathy, who was the only one guaranteed to still be awake at 2am, diligently writing, who she often sought out for comfort when, like now, she could not sleep. They had spent many an hour in her bedroom, just talking over mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows, gazing out the window thoughtfully at the stars.

Anna, her close friend even in her past life, who always cheered her up when she was down, cracking jokes and playing silly antics in their dressing rooms backstage; the class clown. Between shows, Anna always dropped into her dressing room to hang out with her and Anne. They’d shared so many fun times together: spontaneous dancing, lip-synching songs...just being, well, them. If there was one thing about Anna, she always brought out her wild, fun side.

Catherine, older and wiser, offered good advice and a calm demeanor. She preferred to enjoy her mornings in solitude, engrossed in her magazine with a mug of tea. The rest of the group knew better than to disturb her. Yet, she made an exception for Kitty, who she occasionally invited to join her, letting her flick through the colourful pages of beautiful dresses and shoes she could only dream of wearing. Catherine would indulge her curiosity and fascination, each of them marking their favourites from the pages before giving their opinions and critiques on each.

Jane...at the thought, Kitty felt her heart wrench. She was the motherly figure of the group, the shoulder to cry on. The one everyone could depend on for her patience, sensibility and empathy. She’d taken Kitty under her wing and treated her like she was her own. Whenever Kitty was having a rough day, she could guarantee Jane would bake her cupcakes or cookies to cheer her up, or get her out of the house with a visit to the city or just a simple walk. Jane always knew how to make her smile again. And she’d thrown it all back in her face. A solitary tear fell down Kitty’s cheek.

Lastly, there was Anne. Her partner in crime; her beloved cousin. She was responsible for helping bring Kitty out of her shell, with her mischievous and loud personality. If there was chaos in the house, chances are Anne was the culprit. But usually, Kitty wasn’t too far behind. She had always felt she could be herself around her cousin; she felt more confident in her presence. It was Anne she often crept into bed with after a bad nightmare, the one she trusted with all her secrets.

As Kitty closed her eyes, she recalled their first show. How thrilling it had been taking their bows together, hearing the audience cheer and applaud so loudly. She remembered looking at each of the Queens and smiling, thinking this is my family. She had been so proud to call them that, so thankful. They’d been united by their past, awful events that they had revived and reclaimed. Proof that good could rise from bad. After all, it would have been easy to think six Tudor Queens reincarnated together, with past tensions, would have been a recipe for disaster. At first, it had admittedly been a challenge. Definitely not plain sailing. Yet, they’d put their differences aside and called a truce. They had become a family.

Without them, Kitty felt lost. What’d she’d give right now to have Anne snuggled close beside her, whispering into her ear. To have Jane fuss over her, to call her just to check in and make sure she was safe. Suddenly, she regretted her outburst. She’d made a huge mistake. She just wanted things to go back to normal. She wouldn’t take anything for granted anymore.

But it was too late. The damage was done. She couldn’t turn back now.

Instead, Kitty clutched the photo close to her chest, a pitiful imitation of the people she wished were there. Curling up, she allowed the tears to fall.

#six fanfiction

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 years

Text

Cult of Luthor: No Place Like...

Lena leaves the next night with a heavy heart. Her thoughts are crowded with evidence Agent Jones had laid out in front of her the night before-- proof of abductions and ties to arms dealers and... murder.

None of it is actionable, and that missing connection tying it all back to Lex is Lena's lifeline as she rides in the back of the SUV to wherever the agents are taking her. It must be some kind of mistake-- it's the elders who have done this, working without Lex's knowledge.

It goes against everything LuthorCorp stood for.

Lex can't be involved.

He's not capable of it.

He can't be.

She's wearing the clothes she was taken in when the agents finally deliver her to the drop off. They give her nothing-- no wire, no panic button, no cell phone. Doing so would only put her in danger, as nothing would get past the inspectors without detection.

All she has with her when the SUV pulls away is a mission: find the missing connection.

To Lex, or whoever else was calling the shots.

At Lena's insistence, they drop her miles from the compound, leaving her to walk the rest of the way. It takes her most of the day, and in the summer heat she's sweating, hot, and limping with sore feet by the time she reaches the familiar walls of the compound.

A shout lifts at the sight of her, and before Lena knows it shadows are rushing towards her in the growing dark, and hands immediately hook under her arms to keep her upright, until strong arms lift her entirely, cradling her against a broad chest as though she were a babe.

Lawrence, she thinks, as her head rests gratefully against his shoulder.

Perhaps she's walked a little too far after all.

"We've got you," voices murmur around her, offering comfort. "Your brother is on his way. You're all right.

"You're home now."

----

The tears that pour down Lena's cheeks are very real, when Lex wraps her in his arms and holds her tight. The smell of him washes over her like a promise, and her shoulders relax for the first time in days.

The FBI is wrong, and everything is going to be okay.

A single pill rehydrates her, restoring the fluids lost to sweat, and a nutrition pellet pre-emptively resolves any potential malnourishment, even before she tucks into the tray Lex brings her for dinner.

While she eats, he recounts his anguish at her disappearance, how he waited weeks for some kind of demand. How when none came, he nearly believed the worst.

But she's home now, by some miracle, and she assures him she's fine.

She doesn't know who took her-- they wore masks, but treated her well. Let her eat, sleep, and wash, but gave no clue as to their identity or location. They asked no questions, which also led her to believe that it was a ransom.

She doesn't know why she was released.

For now, that's enough. Lex sits next to her the entire night, even after she drifts off to sleep. The next morning greets her with hands and smiles and hugs, gentle voices expressing their joy and relief for her safe return.

For a few days, her return is a relief-- familiar routines sink back into her bones, cherished smiles beam at her from missed faces, and the sounds and smells of home wash over her like a soothing balm.

But it's not long before she starts to notice that her home wasn't what she thought it was-- lab doors that lock them inside until their assigned work period expires, hunger that gnaws at a belly now accustomed to frequent, filling meals, guards and cameras at every corner.

Lena never tried to leave her lab before the period was up, she'd been so focused on her work. She'd never noticed how long they went between meals, or how often her vision blacked out when she stood, until she was suddenly no longer accustomed to it. She never noticed that while the caretakers treat the children with respect, there's little affection behind it, and tears are met with gentle but comfort-less affirmations to do better.

The displacement makes her ache for the Danvers' home, and for Kara, even while surrounded by her family. It affirms her initial decision to stay on the outside, and there's bitter satisfaction in knowing that she knew herself well enough to know she no longer fits in the compound.

It soon becomes apparent that her mission will be nigh impossible. Guards and cameras stand on every corner, and Lena's workstation on the local intranet accesses nothing incriminating, no matter how deep or how far she digs.

There's another system that must contain all of the operational details of the organization, she figures-- something Lex has secured in some hidden location, if it's located in the compound at all. From what the agents told her, LuthorCorp's network spans the globe, and who knows which arm of the web holds these precious details.

Her sole reprieve from her daunting task is Jack Spheer-- her best friend since birth. He is the one thing she couldn't have done without, of she'd been allowed to go to National City with Kara. Her plans to spirit him away to join her mean nothing now, and she finds herself reluctant to share anything with him, lest her betrayal endanger him as well.

Jack doesn't give her a chance when he sends their code in a sharp pattern of raps on the commissary table during evening meal.

*Our Spot*

She sneaks out of the dormitory that night and meets him by the furnaces that heat the washrooms. It's an isolated room that few visit, and with it doubling as a storage space for cleaning supplies, it allows them an excuse of cleaning duty if caught.

"Okay," he says by way of greeting when she arrives, "what really happened?"

"I don't know what--"

"You're different, Lena," he insists. "Not in a bad way, but... different. It's like... you're more than this place."

His eyes gleam with interest, lacking judgement or suspicion. He grins. "They let you out, didn't they? You were on the outside."

Lena can't lie to him. Her silence is all the confirmation he needs. He scoots closer.

"What's it like?"

Jack has never been devoted to the organization like she is. He also doesn't chafe like she sometimes did, leaving him comfortably going with the flow of whereever he is and whatever he does. LuthorCorp works for him now, but he would have joined her in the city if she asked, Lena knows.

So she shares everything-- the food and the music and the dancing and the clothes. How the elders were right about somethings-- the petty superficialism and the cruelty of some-- but also drastically wrong about others-- about the kindness and comfort and connections that existed by choice rather than proximity.

She tells him about Kara too, and when she does his eyes warm with a knowing smile. They are far past the point of needing to say the words-- that Lena is in love and that Jack can see it.

When confessing the ache of missing Kara brings tears to her eyes, Jack hugs her tight and lets her sob her anguish into his shirt.

"Why did you come back?" he asks when Lena finally pulls back, wiping her eyes. "You don't belong here anymore."

He says it like the sky is blue, without malice or judgement.

And that's when Lena shares the rest-- about the rot that's taken root in LuthorCorp, and the crimes attributed to Lex as the organization's beating heart.

"I know he didn't do it," Lena finishes, gripping Jack's hand tightly. "I just need to prove who did. But there's more security here than I ever realized. I'm not sure where to even start."

Jack leans back to rest his head agains the wall behind them. His handsome dark eyes unfocus in thought, before he shrugs with shoulders and eyebrows in unison.

"Lex needs to trust you," he says. "Whether he's responsible or not, he's at the center of this place-- he'll have the access."

"But... how?"

"I don't know. You've always ridden the edge of distraction, Lena. You were always asking the questions that wouldn't be answered, questioning the whys rather than the whats and hows. It passes for brilliance, but also makes them careful about how much to share."

Meeting her gaze, his fingers tighten on hers. "Show them you're in, all the way in, prove that your abduction has turned you away from the outside, and Lex might bring you in."

Doubt fills Lena's chest. For all his affection, Lex has never shown her any kind of special treatment for being blood. Any privilege she has always came from her work and her results, as a means to develop her potential. She has been punished like everyone else, rebuked and admonished, and she has accepted the corrections as everyone else has done.

Would Lex truly let her in?

"You are the only one who is able to keep up with him, Lena," Jack says. "Everyone sees it. They think he's been waiting to name a successor until you embraced LuthorCorp more, and he could sure you would uphold the mandates."

Jack nudges her when apprehension keeps her silent.

"He wants to trust you. You just need to prove to him that he can."

Continued: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Appendix A

#cult of luthor #jack spheer #lena luthor #supercorp #no place like....#returning home #mild angst #with a familiar face #a blessing and a curse #lena is in a tough spot #poor bb just wants to be brilliant on her own terms #meanwhile no contact with kara or sam #buh huh huh #i miss jack so much #was not gonna pass up an opportunity to use him #are you kidding me #theyre besties

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dokidoki-tae · 5 years

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How would La squadra react to their s/o who usually doesn't show any emotion look at them blankly but they noitcibly have tears forming over something they said to their s/o? (Sorry if I worded this weirdly...)

Oh. Like La Squadra are the ones to say something that causes their s/o to tear up. Tears of happiness or tears of sadness??? Hmm

Edit: Just wanted to add an apology for taking so long, anon! Sorry! >-

Risotto: Risotto is no stranger to remaining emotionless. He’s the same way, rarely allowing his expression to change, keeping his emotions leveled and mind rational. He appreciated that you had the same nature because he’s often overwhelmed the eccentric nature of his team. To him, you were normal. He felt like he didn’t have to use his time to watch you like he did them. He considered you levelheaded enough not to need him to intervene in what you were doing. You desired to want to spend time with him though even though he was often busy. On this day, you desired to be with him more than ever as you hadn’t had time with him in a month. It was supposed to be a day off, but Risotto opted to continue working and you stared blankly at him, hoping he’d get the hint as he normally did. He glanced at you before getting back to work. “What is it?” Risotto asked without looking up again. “It’s your day off,” pointing out obvious. Risotto ignored you and you pressed him, knowing he cannot work drown himself in work. “Will you be a nuisance to me too?” His voice boomed. Risotto saw your eyes flash, but you remained calm when you excused yourself. Risotto watched as you walked out and waited for 5 minutes before following you. He found you in his bedroom, laying down. He pressed himself against your smaller frame, acting as the big spoon. “Tesoro, I’m sorry. I cannot give you excuses for saying something like that to you.” He can’t see you but he knows that he’s hurt your enough to cry and plans to do what he can to make up for it.

Prosciutto: Prosciutto has never minded your nature. It was part of the reason he loved you. He wouldn’t have been your partner if your stoicism was ever a problem. Though he sometimes thinks he has to speak on your behalf. At a Passione black-tie party, Prosciutto and you were gathered with other members of the organization. It was surprisingly normal since there was a ban on discussing anything on the organization and the jobs that come along with it. Prosciutto spoke most as he is very charismatic. He noticed some of the others were giving you mean looks, probably because your lack of emotions and seeing it as an insult. Prosciutto steps in to avoid something happening. “Ignore them, they’re like that by nature.” While he meant well, there was the feeling of dismissal of your presence that hurt and you started to tear up. Prosciutto notices when he takes a second to glace at you. Immediately, he gently guides you away from judgemental eyes. He cups your face and looks you in your tear-stained eyes, reading what those irises he loved. Your face may be unreadable but your eyes say everything to him. “Tesoro, forgive me for hurting you for my thoughtless words.” Prosciutto knows he needs to let go of control sometimes and allow you autonomy. Prosciutto kissed your damp cheek before making your way back to the party.

Pesci: Before starting to date Pesci, he was a little afraid of you because your unemotional personality was a bit unsettling. When you began dating, he was surprised but in a pleasant way. He saw you in a different light, but he was still not sure how to handle your relationship because you continued to remain stoic. Pesci was a bit insecure because in his eyes he thought he still wasn’t good enough or you weren’t happy with him. It started to eat away at him and he needed to talk to someone about it (Prosciutto). He didn’t intend for you to hear the conversation. Pesci was questioning whether your feelings were genuine and “Can they even feel?” Admittingly, you were eavesdropping, listening to them talk in Pesci’s room. It was enough to ache your heart and you retreated to your room. The conversation between Pesci and Prosciutto ended positively though with Prosciutto reminded Pesci that love is shown in different ways and will not always be in forms considered normative. Pesci’s confidence was recharged and wanted to spend the day with you after. He knocked on your door, but when you didn’t answer, he let himself in and saw that same expression but quickly noticed the change in your eyes. They were wet with tears. Pesci panicked and frantically examined you to see if you were hurt. “What’s wrong?” Pesci trying to stay calm. You were quiet and finally said, “I can feel…” Pesci felt like his heart was being squeezed. Pesci had his own tears forming, upset that he made you feel this way. He brought you into a tight hug, “I’m sorry for thinking and saying something so hurtful,” as you shed tears together.

Formaggio: He often sticks his foot in his mouth, saying things he thinks are socially appropriate but in actuality are not. His s/o never seems to mind his comments or jokes, they don’t really react to anything so it just eggs him on to try harder to get his s/o to react. It’s his mission to get his normally stoic s/o reacting in some way preferably laughter. One night, Formaggio was holding them on his lap, smothering them with affection. When his s/o doesn’t react, having that same emotionless expression, he’s a bit frustrated and gives up, removing you from his lap and getting up to leave, but not before making a comment. “Why do I bother…” He mutters it to himself, but he’s still close enough for his s/o to hear. When he’s gotten over his pity party, he’s back to his cheerful self and tries to be affectionate again. As he walks to his s/o, chatty and full of energy, it slowly starts to deplete when he finally notices the tears in their eyes. “Cara/o…” He realizes that they must have heard him and was hurt by his words. He accepts responsibly and toughens up, carrying them bridal style and maneuvering them to the couch. He nestles his face in his s/o’s chest, “Cara/o…” he breathes, “I’m sorry for what I said and that I hurt you. Know that I didn’t mean it.” He expresses sincerely,, wiping a tear away and kissing their wet cheek.

Illuso: Illuso says some pretty hurtful things as jokes just like he mocks Formaggio’s stand. He makes off-handed comments and jokes to you too, but you don’t really react or change your expression. But he’s never made jokes about you or of you. One night while the team and you were watching horror movies. You were pretty expressionless, not reacting to whatever was happening. Illuso is trying to best to hide his nervousness as he’s not big on this kind of thing. He makes jokes and makes fun of those who are jumpy. He tense and ups his fake bravado. He points out creatures in the movie, comparing you to them. Likening your behavior to theirs. It doesn’t bother you the first time, but then he continues to compare you to monsters, the undead like zombies and ghosts, saying you and the horror villains are equally dead. By the end of the night, Illuso has pushed you into shedding tears. It’s an awkward moment because Illuso has shown himself to be a bigger asshole than before and the others are sneering at him for being the asshole. Everyone, besides Illuso, simultaneously get up and leave you two without a word. Illuso is uncomfortable because he’s never made you cry before. He’s careful and takes your hand into his and caresses your knuckles. “Amore, I’m sorry for being careless and for causing you pain. I’ll make it up to you I swear.” He wipes a tear away with his thumb and peppers you with kisses before carrying you bridal style to your bedroom.

Melone: Pretty accustomed to differences in human personalities. He doesn’t mind yours at all and finds you fascinating and alluring. He does genuinely like you and your relationship is only growing. However, Melone’s preoccupation with child-rearing causing him to say offhanded things. When he was working on something, he was asking you questions and you obliged. It wasn’t a big deal until Melone revealed what he was working on. You and he were compatible but Melone discovered, together, your compatibility goes down if you were to have a child together, as conflict is sure to arise due to your stoic nature not being the best for a child. “Hmm. It seems you are not fit to be a parent.” While there was no malice or resentment in his words, you know about his preoccupation with being a parent and you questioned whether your relationship would end. Melone notices the tears forming in your eyes and quickly moves to reassure you and scoops you in his arms. “Cara/o, you do not need to worry. I would never leave you for something like this.” He peppered kisses and your face and moved to your neck. “I know you well enough that you’d make an excellent parent.”

Ghiaccio: Sometimes his temper gets the better of him and loses control of he becomes more tactless than normal. His s/o stoic expression never gets to him; he’s used to it. But sometimes something else pisses him off and he rants and rants to them, but whatever pissed him off this time has really gotten to him. He’s going on and on, expressing his annoyance to his s/o, and his speech starts to slow until he’s no longer talking and just staring into the eyes of his s/o. He brows furrow deeper than one thought possible, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from blowing up on his s/o. “Your face really pisses me off sometimes. You always look like you don’t give a shit about what I’m saying. You’re nothing but a frigid bitch/bastard.” Ghiaccio spits. To no surprise to Ghiaccio, his s/o continues to maintain that emotionless stare until he sees their eyes start to tear. Ghiaccio is stunned, frozen in place, his mouth hanging slightly opened and eyebrows raising in shock. He can feel the guilt start to creep up, loosening him up a bit. He tries to brush it off at first, turning away so he doesn’t have to look at you, but it doesn’t help. He sighs and gently places his hand on top of your head and into an awkward hug. He still and quiet for a minute until he whispers, “Sorry” soothing you in his own way.

Sorbet: He’s counting the money from the last mission as he overhears Gelato making jokes and poking your face, trying to get you to smile. “If I kiss your belly, will it get your smiling?” He asked you devilishly. You stare blankly, “I’m not ticklish.” Gelato throws his hands in the air, defeated. Sorbet joins the conversation. “Don’t waste your time, Gelato,” Sorbet turned, adorning a smirk on his lips. “They can’t be like you.” Gelato huffed at his comments. “Someone’s who’s lively contrasting with someone who’s lifeless is good. I don’t know how’d I’d manage if you were both lively. To be called “lifeless” by strangers is one thing but by one of your lovers? The tears started to fall when you thought you had escaped those type of comments, but Sorbet, a man you loved, was here making them. Sorbet full attention was brought back to you when Gelato threw something at Sorbet. When he noticed, Sorbet signed, rubbing the back of his neck, guilty for making your cry. Gelato didn’t say anything, but Sorbet knew him enough to know he wanted him to apologize. Gelato stepped out of the room and Sorbet moved to sit next to you. He was stiff and awkwardly placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in. He rubbed your arm in comfort. “Sorry…” he muttered, resting his head against yours.

Gelato: Doesn’t mean a lot of the mean things he says because he’s joking or teasing. He does it to Sorbet all the time in a much better way than Illuso’s more hurtful comment. Gelato is fascinated with your personality and thinks it’s fun to try to get a reaction out of you and mimicking your behavior. It doesn’t get to you. Gelato laughs off whenever you aren’t fazed by him and he comments, “Man, no wonder you’re friends and dating assassins (him and Sorbet). You probably don’t have other friends beside us cause you’re so cold.” To Gelato, he didn’t see a probably with his comment. You must be aware of how your personality can be uncomfortable to be around but you can’t help it. Gelato is eating his words when you start tearing up, trying to hide them from him. He’s making a fuss and stutters out apologies and how he was joking. He pouts and hugs you forcefully, kisses your neck. “I’m such an idiot. You know I don’t mind the shit I say. Ask Sorbet, he agrees!” Gelato spends the rest of the evening whispering sweet words in your ears.

#jjba #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #illuso #melone #ghiaccio #sorbet #gelato #jojo hcs

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eyesaremosaics · 5 years

Text

Ugh having a mild panic attack. I feel super emotional, confused, sad, frightened, empty, weakness in my limbs, numbness around my face and in my fingertips. Shallow breathing. I feel like I’m going to burst into tears any second. My heart just hurts and hurts.

Came to be with my sister, because I’m so vulnerable right now. Just trying to breathe through it. It’s going to hurt for a while, I have to get used to it, have to settle into the loneliness and become accustomed to it as a constant companion. My abandonment issues are all lit up. Feeling like no one will ever be able to love me for the rest of my life. That maybe I’m not equipped to be in a successful relationship. Most of my experiences were so bad. My best friend has had no luck either, I always saw her experiences as pretty bad, but she told me a while back: “you’ve had it worse.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

—-

It’s all a blur to me now, I try to hold on to what I learned from each person, searching for the gift in this big ball of pain. I do find those gifts. My first love, showed me that I am worry of simply being around others. I always felt like such an outcast, having been bullied as mercilessly as I was. He pushed through dozens of girls standing around him, and came to say hello to me. It made me feel special. I remember that day. The rest of the relationship was long, complicated and painful, after that initial phase, I had to compete with other women all the time for his affection. The seed of not being special was planted then. He never officially became my boyfriend, and I always felt like I was never good enough because of that. It totally crushed my self esteem, and set me up for romantic failure in the future.

I had boyfriends in between, who were simply there. My first real one was a cheater, I punched him in the face the first time he did it, and have been violent towards men ever since.

The next person of significance was someone I grew up with, who had pined for me and loved me from afar for six years. When I was finally in a place to receive his love and love him back, of course he didn’t want me then. He put me on a pedestal as this perfect woman. Writing poetry for me... stalking me on the internet. He was terrified of me, he couldn’t accept my love, and he was hurt because I rejected him in our youth. I did this because I was being sexually abused by an older boy at the time, and I was so traumatized from the assault that I developed sexual aversion disorder. I found out he harbored desires for me, and I threw up in a trash can. The very thought of sexual interaction with ANYONE made me want to cry and vomit at the same time. Left me shaking all over.

I think of my thirteen year old self, and I just feel so sad for her. My long time step father and my mother were fighting horribly, and on the verge of divorce—so home life was a drag. I was being abused, and had my virginity forcibly taken from me. I began drinking at twelve to cope with the ptsd. My parents avoided the house, so I had to babysit everyday, and being forced into a position of responsibility so young—alienated me from my peers. Not that it mattered really because they all hated me anyway. I never fit in anywhere. I had no friends at school, a few outside of school, but I was considered a social pariah on campus.

I felt suicidal nearly everyday, but I tried to hold my head high and ignore the constant taunts, and humiliations on a daily basis. It was a sad, lonely existence in those days. He loved me through all that, and thought I was strong. I guess I am strong, but I didn’t feel that way inside. I escaped through books, movies, imagination. I wrote short stories, ran multiple websites, learned html, had pen pals. My only friends were in the computer. People told me how ugly I was every day. That my nose was crooked, that I had overlarge front teeth. They called me underfed vulture, satan (because I wore all black), Bucky beaver. One day they poured pickle juice on my head and told me I was the ugliest thing they had ever seen. One boy cut my hair in class.

That was hell. Once high school came around, I was considered “pretty”, and the same boys who threw me in garbage cans, asked for my number. The fucking nerve, I swear.

Anyway, that stalker boy painted a picture of being the perfect mate for me. Grew his hair out long like mine to “feel closer to (me)”. I was 18, and fell madly in love with him. I soon came to discover however, that something wasn’t right. He had a personality disorder, and three months after we started dating, he crushed me like an insect, with seemingly no remorse. He was convinced I didn’t love him, and took great pleasure in hurting me because I had hurt him in the past (Unconsciously).

It was a long 7 year back and fourth saga with him, and only at the end did I realize he was a narcissist/sociopath. Literally incapable of returning my feelings. I really did love him... I don’t know if I’ll ever feel quite like that again, about anyone, but there was nowhere for that situation to go. He was never going to change, and I deserved better than to be treated like garbage. I went through so much grief, had an identity crisis... realizing I had been tricked and manipulated for years. I felt stupid for falling into the trap because I was blinded by love. It still hurts sometimes, but I forgave him. Not because he deserves it, he was horribly abusive and cruel to me, but because I deserve peace. I had to just accept that that is who he is, and it’s not my fault. Any wrong that I may have done was a result of childhood abuse, and I more than paid my debt back. He pined for me for six years, then I pined for him for 7. That’s 13 years, nearly half my life of being connected to this person. A part of me died with that relationship. The idealistic, romantic, carefree spirit I had, died.

I became an alcoholic and a drug addict to escape the pain of surviving narcissistic abuse. Then I met the man I thought I was going to marry. He swooped in, and it was all fire and passion between us. He told me he loved me, and wanted to build a life with me. He used to think I was the one. However, we were both so damaged by our past relationships that we tore each other to shreds emotionally. It still breaks my heart, we were mismatched. I knew it, so did he, but I loved him anyway. It wasn’t something I could help, I just loved him. He reminded me so much of my father, all the wounds he left in me... were lit up so strongly by this person. He said I was the most special to him, but he had so many options available all the time, and deep in my gut I never felt like he was really mine, or that I could trust him. He was so angry inside, even when he was speaking softly and being nice, I could feel that rage burning inside him. Not towards me... necessarily... though it often manifested that way. I failed so much in that relationship, but I tried my best. I really did. I think he did too.

When he left after three and a half years, I was brutally broken hearted. He seems to think I never really loved him either, and that is so not true. I just wanted to be the most precious thing in his life, but I never felt that I was. I try to make peace with it now. He no longer loves me, not that way, and I just have to accept that and move on. As much as it hurts. I have no other choice.

Then my last boyfriend, who made me feel incredibly special, and shared many similar interests. We had a lot of fun, but there was a lot of problems too. The age gap was a problem, communication styles were very different. We were both damaged people, who unconsciously were damaging each other after a certain point. I really tried my best to get better and be the best person I could be, but I always walked away feeling like a bad person. I always felt like I was constantly hurting him, or being inconsiderate, sometimes people grow apart I guess... it happened with all of them.

I just feel so sad, and tired. Every time I had a crush on a guy, who was good looking, and seemed to have a lot going for them—I would make my feelings to them known, and they would reject me. So I don’t feel comfortable pursuing men as a result. If I think a guy is attractive, my immediate thought is: I’m not pretty enough, he will never like me.”

All my life people told me I was this great beauty. As a child people would always tell my dad: “oooh! What a beautiful little girl!”

To which my dad would reply, with a hint of dread in his voice: “yeah... I’m going to have to keep a bat by the door when she gets older to keep the boys away.”

Ha, yeah no that never happened. Boys are afraid of me, they feel intimidated by me because I am highly intelligent and very outspoken. I have a lot of male energy to me, and that threatens most men I have experienced. Makes them feel like less of a man or something. That explains why many of my exes picked smaller, meek, and more easily controlled women (or seemingly so anyway). It’s kind of lonely, being a strong woman. Feeling like men run from me because I’m “too much” as many of them have said.

The men who do approach me usually are losers or playboys. My dad is a playboy so it makes sense, it’s what is familiar to me. It’s almost like... I don’t think I deserve to be happy or loved, so I attract people that won’t or can’t love me, or people who love me so much but are not a match for me. It’s just fucked. I want to be a whole person, and attract another whole person who has their shit together and inspires me to be the best version of myself. I’m tired of small mindedness, of limiting constraints, limiting beliefs, I want to grow and expand. I want a wider world to live in.

Working for the wealthy family that I do, they have shown me the heights to which one can go in life. The dad came from nothing, and built himself up to where he was because he believed that he could. He believed in himself, and made this beautiful life for him and his family. Of course we all have problems, but they are constructive in dealing with them. Not toxic. Seeing a relationship of mutual live and respect, of comfort and stability. Of abundance... I want that. I have been poor and depressed all my fucking life, doubting myself, struggling with mental illness and trying to die.

I don’t want to die anymore, I am tired of dying. I want to be happy. I don’t want to struggle so hard, scraping for food and for money, I want to generate a beautiful life with love, friendship, creativity, travel, art and giving back to others, to the world. That’s what I want. There has to be a way to achieve it.

I know it starts with me, and these negative beliefs that I have about myself. I’ve been seriously working on my self esteem, on recognizing my value, of taking care of my vessel... I am getting much better, despite my occasional relapse, they are getting farther apart. However, days like this, where I feel so empty and sad... frighten me.

I have been to the darkest places of the human heart. I have got rock bottom and nearly died many times in my life. I have experienced the dark night of the soul, been utterly alone, broken, abandoned, abused—and I’m still here. I survived it somehow, even though I am full of holes, and they still bleed occasionally—I’m still standing.

Romance, seems like a thing I will never be able to have on a reciprocal level, not until I can learn to really love myself. It’s been my life’s work to undo the trauma of my childhood, but sometimes I wonder... will I be alone forever? Will I ever know how it feels to be as madly in love with someone as they are with me. My lifestyle is so unconventional, and I have so many quirks and issues... everyone gives up and leaves. I try my best to be better, and I think I finally am in the healthiest emotional place I’ve ever been, but today I face my fear of crippling loneliness... and it weighs heavily on my heart.

I don’t want to be with anyone for a long time. It hurts too much to be connected to someone. It’s so much stress and pain, and I don’t know if I can go through it or put someone else through it again. Right now I’m feeling pretty hopeless about ever getting married, or having children. I want it so bad, but the conditions have never been right. I also, if I’m being honest with myself... truly don’t believe anyone can love me. I think I’m too much, and too fucked up to be cared about. I don’t think I’m educated enough, pretty enough, or good enough to be loved. That’s my main problem. I just wish I knew how to fix it.

It’s a process, and it doesn’t happen overnight, but how long will it take to feel comfortable in my own skin? I just want to breathe easy and feel confident for once in my life. I want to be valued, seen, heard, and truly known... but I keep hearing that Pink Floyd song in my head..

“Is there anybody....out there?”

#me #manic depression diary #depression #self awareness #self healing #bipolar 2

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ashleymeowtese · 6 years

Text

I tried my hand at writing something...

Don’t know if it’s any good or if I'll even continue it, but for now I just wanted to share.

The drop of a pin could be heard through the silence that surrounded the room. Two sets of eyes stared at each other.

Blue, expressive, unwavering eyes held the gaze of the man sitting in front of him. The other pair of jade eyes, lacked their usual apathetic expression, and now held a surprised look.

“Are they…” The jade-eyed man began, but words failed him. It was as if the air in his very lungs had left him.

The blue-eyed man only nodded, answering his unspoken question.

A short intake of air, not quite a breath, not yet a gasp was the only action the jade-eyed man made after receiving this confirmation.

“And she’s…” He tried again, but still the words would not come out.

Another nod was his only answer.

The jade-eyed man gaped for a second longer, before bringing his head to his hands, tangling his fingers in his short, red hair. Wide eyes stared at nothing, while his mind was going through so much.

The redheaded man was usually known for his lack of emotions; however, at this very second, he was experiencing so many, he barely identify one before another took over.

Surprise, sorrow, confusion, anger…hope.

The blue-eyed man took all of this with compassionate eyes, understanding what was going through his friends’ head. He was about to say more, before the redhead looked up, and he smiled at the new look his friends’ jade eyes now held.

Determination.

In one, quick, fluid motion the redhead stoop up and stormed out of the room. A tiny flurry of sand the only proof that he was ever in the room.

“She’s either going to hate or love me for this…” Mumbled the blue-eyed man, still sitting in the chair he had been sitting on for the past few hours, only now hunched over, hands on his face, fingers through his blond hair, not unlike his friend had done merely seconds ago.

A small, raven-haired woman then entered the room, and looking over at the state the blond was in, placed a hand on the blonds shoulder, and offered him a reassuring smile, “He needed to know.”

The woman sighed and turned her warm, milky-white eyes towards the recently vacated chair behind the desk facing them. “Besides, he’s suffered enough. They both have.”

Hearing his companions’ words, the blond looked up at the very same chair before turning his gaze up towards the woman beside him and offered her a smile in return.

“You’re right,” slapping his legs and standing up, he reached for his hat and fully turned to the raven-haired girl. “I did my part, what do you say we head back home?��

Eyes full of affection, the woman smiled at the blond before bowing, “Yes, Hokage-sama.”

The blue-eyed man grinned at the woman before taking her hand, and together they left the room.

The air was much more humid in this part of the world than what he was used to. The sun lacked its usual glare.

Still he kept trotting on, each step faster than the last.

He knew nothing could stop him from reaching his destination, not his duties, nor his siblings reminding him of his position, nor his rank, not even if a swarm of enemies were to now step in his way. He would eliminate them; he would destroy everything and anything that would try to keep him from his goal.

Not after all this time, all this waiting, all this emptiness, all of this loneliness.

He would get there.

With a snarl he quickened his pace.

It was in a similar state that he reached the small village. In a foul mood, and a worse temper. Not because of his travels, no, he had traveled much further before, walked through the desert for days on end, without a single drop of water even.

No. It was the questions.

He had so many questions going round his head, each step bringing one more question forth. And he didn’t have a single answer. He hated not having the answers. But there was only one person who could answer them all.

And answers he would get.

It was a relatively small village, he noted, the last place he expected she would be at. Then again, perhaps that was the point. The reason why he never found her.

Another growl escaped his lips, in frustration. Making a passer-bier flinch and hurry away.

He had opted to wear regular shinobi clothes and a traveling hat to hide his more prominent features; his Kazekage robes would have attracted much unneeded attention. Though he had worried shinobi garments would have stood out in a civilian village, it seemed he shouldn’t have worried, very few people gave him much notice.

The reason, it seemed, was the amount of people coming back and forth through the village gates, most of them shinobi and each wearing different village headbands. The civilians had grown accustomed to seeing foreigners, and went about their business and everyday lives.

He was confused, a slight twitch of his brow bone the only outward sign shown on his face. It was rare to see so many shinobi from different villages in one place at a time, though times were now peaceful, village rivalry was still a common occurrence, and usually you would have already witnessed a fight every now and then.

Though there were no signs of friendliness amongst the ninjas, no one went out of their way and showed open hostility either. Everything seemed so, neutral.

Spotting a few shinobi with headbands of his own village, he decided to turn to a less busy street.

How is it he had never heard of this village before?

Then again, he had his own land to run, and didn’t have the time to find out about every small village his allied countries had.

Momentarily stalling his mission, he turned towards a pair of old women weaving baskets at a stall. He needed some answers.

At his approach, the women looked up and stopped midway through their work.

“How can we help you, young lad?” asked the friendliest looking of the two.

“Good afternoon,” He began, thankfully, being the Kazekage had taught him a thing or two about common curtsey, “for what reason do all of these shinobi gather here?”

Never a man of many words, he cut straight to the point.

“Ah, I take it you noticed the many headbands going around…” said the same old woman, while the other resumed her weaving and the man furrowed a brow bone in frustration at the old woman’s obviousness.

The old woman simply chuckled, as old women tend to do and continued, “…As you may have noticed, young man, this village is a neutral one. A place where all travelers can restore their energies and supplies after crossing the deserts of the land of Sand or venturing through the land of Fire.” The old woman resumed her own weaving. Still, the man remained in silence knowing she had more to say. “For as long as I can remember, and that is quite a long time, I must add…” again another chuckle, “this town has opened its doors to anyone that stops by. But it wasn’t always this busy. Why, it was about five or six years ago that the number of foreigners increased, right Chizu-chan?” a grunt from the other woman was the only answer she gave to the question, “and most of them shinobi I must add.”

Narrowing his jade eyes, the man asked, “And why is that?”

With a surprised look the old woman once again stopped her weaving and looked up at the man. “Well, I thought you would have know, seeing as that is the reason why most shinobi like you are here…” at his silence, the woman continued, “because of the new medic of course. People claim her to be the best in all the nations, they travel all the way here to be treated by her or otherwise ask for apprenticeships. And my are they right! This town and not to mention my aching bones were blessed the moment she came to this village with…”

“A female medic you said?” The man cut in, it was then the old woman noticed the clenched fists the man held at his sides.

“What’s it to you?” Came a different, croaking voice. The man turned to the old woman that, until now, had remained silent. They held each other’s gaze for a while, neither answering each other’s question before the talkative woman spoke up, “Oh, don’t mind Chizu-chan! She is very protective of the young girl, aren’t you Chizu-chan? Treats her kind of like a grand-daughter.”

Trying to regain his temper, the man gave a low sigh and once again directed himself to the talkative woman.

“Where can I find her?”

“You don’t look ill to me, why do you need to see her?” again asked the grumpy old woman. Completely ignoring her, the man continued to look at the woman he directed his question to, waiting to receive an answer.

Noticing the man’s growing frustration, the old woman decided to comply and answered him, “You’ll find her up ahead, follow this very road, past the playground. Her clinic is the tallest building in that area, you cant miss it.”

Finally receiving his answer the man wasted no time before giving the old woman a slight bow, a calm thank you and headed the way directed.

But before he made it too far he heard the talkative woman call out to him, “I must warn you, as sweet as she might look, she has quite a temper!” A small twitch of the lips, one that you might have missed unless you were looking for it, was the only reply the old woman received before the man turned around and continued.

“I am aware.” He said to himself.

The laughter of children called his attention once he was close to the playground mentioned.

A flash of a memory, one from long ago surfaced to the man’s mind. That of a small boy, alone, swinging on an old swing set, heart heavy with sorrows. However, years had passed since then; he was a different person now. Bonds were made, friendships built, and love was found. He no longer felt as alone and miserable as he did then. Well, maybe these past six years he had, but he was about to change that.

The sound of small footsteps called his attention, and he noticed a young girl running his way, laughing and clutching a stuffed toy. He noticed her trip even before the little girl realized it herself, but before she hit the ground a small pile of sand was holding her upright, preventing her fall.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?! Let her go!” The man turned to look at the young boy who had yelled his command.

‘With so many shinobi walking around the place, it’s good to know the parents teach these kids to be wary of strangers.’ The man thought to himself, while commanding his sand to come back.

By then, the small boy was standing in front of the younger girl, arms outstretched in a protective manner.

The man took a minute, and stared at the children. It only took him a second, before realization hit him. An inaudible gasp left his lips, and a new spark lit his eyes, making them warmer than they’ve been in years, though unless you knew him well, you’d never see the change.

They were brother and sister, twins, that much was obvious. And though no one had told him, he knew they were five years old, he was sure.

Their hair color was not as dark as his, but neither as light as their mothers’. It was a perfect shade in between.

Their eyes, however, were unmistakably his.

Only, they were just as expressive as their mothers’ was.

Full of emotion, full of life.

Having an older, expressionless man stare at them obviously didn’t sit well with the children, so the boy took a step forth, and gave the man a fearless, he hoped, look. “You better leave us alone! Our mom is very strong and she’ll beat you up if you don’t!” yelled the little boy.

However, the man was transfixed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy’s scared, determined gaze. He knew that gaze all too well, for, their mother once upon a time had looked at him the very same way. Back when they fought for different sides, back when she fought to protect those she loved, and he fought to see it all destroyed. And seeing that look directed at him again, through those same eyes, shot a painful pang right in his chest.

Seeing as the man did not heed his words, and continued to stare, the little boy’s courage wavered. He took a step back and added, “P-plus! Our father is also supper strong! And if he hears you’re messing with us, he will come here and destroy you!”

That seemed to reach the older man, for he blinked a few times and asked, “Father?” his voice laced in confusion, surely she hadn’t, no, he must have heard wrong.

“Y-yeah! Mom says he is one of the strongest shinobi alive! He’s very powerful and nothing can ever ever hurt him! He’ll come back and beat you up for messing with us!”

The older man took a second to contemplate this before asking, “So he is not with you now?”

Seeing where he had messed up, the little boy quickly tried to think of a way to fix his mistake, but his sister beat him to it and said in a much calmer, quiet voice. “Mommy says he is a very important person, he has a lot of people relying on him, they need him more than we do.”

The little boy nudged his sister’s side to remain quiet, but understanding hit the older man, and he focused his attention to the younger girl, the shiest of the two.

“Do you love him then? Even if you’ve never met him?” he asked.

The little girl was about to reply, when her brother cut her off defensively, “Of course we do! We don’t need to know him to know we love him! Everyday she tells us about him, and we know he loves us too!”

Another pang shot straight to his chest, and the man needed a second to regain his composure before asking again.

“And your mother? Surely she can’t love someone who is so far away. He must have caused her a lot of pain.”

The little boy was taken back by this weird man with his weird questions, but the little girl took that time to answer the man, with the very same smile that had once long ago been directed at him, so many times, that he already knew it by heart, “She loves him very much, she tells us every night.”

The man’s jade eyes widened, and his breath got caught in his throat making it hard to breath. His throat closed up, and he could have sworn it was as full of sand as the gourd in his back. He did not know if he should laugh or cry, both actions were still very foreign to him, so he did neither. He simply hung his head down, squeezed his eyes shut, tried to calm his now wildly beating heart and regain his breath.

Seeing the man’s sudden change in demeanor, the little boy asked, “H-hey, Mister. Are you alright?”

Noticing the same thing her brother did, the little girl stepped closer and asked, “Are you hurt? Do you need to go see mommy? She’s a doctor you know.”

The man gripped at his shirt, right above his heart, nodded and with pained eyes said, “There is a pain…” he choked out, “…right here, that only she has ever been able to heal.”

It took the older man longer to control the quivering sand swirling at his feet than it did to arrive at the white, two-story building.

As he approached, his mind, once again, began storming with the questions that had been haunting him for years.

Why did you leave? Was I not enough? Where you not happy? Why didn’t you say anything? Didn’t you trust me? Where you scared? Why would you hide?

Why?

Why?!

He could feel his breathing come in fast, shallow breaths. His mind started to cloud with obscure thoughts, as his hands clenched into tight fists. His heart, his damned, messed up heart, once again started to pound in his chest.

Then suddenly, it all stopped.

Time itself seemed to stop.

Because he could sense her.

Even before he saw her.

He could sense her warm, soft chakara. It washed over him like a wave. Clearing his mind, giving him the relief he had been yearning for.

The peace only she could bring. And it felt as if she had never left, as if she had been by his side all this time, as if all those agonizingly lonely nights had never happened.

But it only lasted for a minute. Red fury replaced the calm.

He had to see her. Hold her.

Mine. She’s mine.

How dare she leave his side! He had claimed her! She belonged to him! How could she give him the world, make him feel high, so high, only to later take it all away, and let him drop, down to the deepest, darkest parts of himself. She had no right!

Mine, all mine!

A small part of his mind kept on telling him he was wrong. That she was not a possession. She was her own person and could do as she wished. Love him, hate him, hurt him, break him. And he’d let her.

But he knew anger, he was familiar with anger. He had grown up with it, it lived inside of him. Hate and anger were easy to understand.

Unlike pain, or sorrow or regret. Those were still new. Foreign to him. Ever since he met the blond with the blue eyes new emotions were introduced to him, love and happiness, he had just started to embrace those.

Until she had snatched them from him.

So he chose to feel anger.

A small, warm hand brought him back to the present, and before he could unleash his sand and obliterate the fool who decided to cross him, his eyes met his own.

A gasp left his lips.

Concerned, scared, emotional eyes stared right up at him, making his mind again go blank, while the little girl’s trembling hand grasped his much larger one.

It took the man a moment to realize he had stopped walking the moment he stepped foot into the building, and his dark thoughts were seeping out of him like a deathly aura.

It took him less time to realize what he had almost done.

And his insides dropped.

He had almost lost it.

Not just his mind but also this new ray of hope he discovered.

Reversed back into the vicious animal he had locked deep inside.

This wouldn’t do. He was stronger than this.

A rueful smile graced his lips, the things this woman made him feel. Without trying she could make him turn from euphoric to tempestuous and every other mood in between, even the unknown ones, in a matter of seconds, she did always have that effect over him, ever since then.

“It’s been almost a year since I came to this place to teach your village new medical techniques. Yet you still wont call me by my given name.” a pout, “Seeing how you guys became such chummy friends so fast, I hoped you’d consider me a friend by now…” she gave a sigh.

He then swallowed, it surprised him how naturally her name rolled out of his lips, and green-emerald eyes widened before a small blush formed on her cheeks and a perfect smile graced her own lips, making him think that he wouldn’t mind saying her name over and over again if it made her look at him that way forever.

“See? That wasn’t so bad!”

Taking a deep breath, and regaining his composure, he focused his attention back to the two children standing beside him. The boy seemed torn between staying to protect his sister, or running into the other room to call for help. While the girl continued to grab his now relaxed hand and stare up at him, silently asking him if he was alright.

It seemed he could now rely on more than one person to bring him back from the dark.

Mine… He thought again, though in a much gentler way while looking at the children with fondness in his eyes.

The man ruffled the girl’s hair, and offered her a small smile, not really surprised at how easy it came.

He then turned to the boy, who now seemed even more alert at the older man’s sudden movement and said, “Forgive me, I did not wish to frighten you…” he then placed all the sincerity he could muster to his eyes before continuing, “…I promise… I wont ever hurt you.”

As far as first impressions went, he knew he was failing miserably, but now that he thought about it, when he met their mother they weren’t in the friendliest of terms either. He did try to kill her.

Yet, she still gave him a chance, saw the good in him and forgave and forgot the bad. So he would fight, he would try his hardest to earn their trust, even if it took him the rest of his life.

The little boy still looked at him with skepticism, yet he nodded in understanding.

He is very wary and cautious for his age, he’ll make a great shinobi I’m sure…

Thought the man with pride.

The little girl made him come back from his musings when she said, “I know you wont…” the look she gave him, however, made the man realize that she knew. Somehow, she was able to read all of the emotions that had passed through his emotionless face and realize what he himself realized seconds after meeting the twins.

Perceptive… he though, there is more to her than meets the eye, intelligent, just like her mother. Undoubtedly she’ll be just as fine a kunoichi as her someday.

“When did you figure it out?” he couldn’t help but ask.

The little girl beside him gave a sheepish smile to the floor before answering, “I wasn’t sure at first… I just had a feeling, the moment you stopped me from falling. Your sand… mommy tells us everyday about daddy, though she never says anything that would give him away, ‘we must protect him from people who would try to hurt him through us’ she says. But…she once said something, that I didn’t really understand…until today.”

There was a sandstorm, living so close to the Sand border, we get them often. But, they were always short, they didn’t last long. Which seemed to make her sad. She was standing by the balcony, the doors open, one of her arms stretched out. The sand grains kept blowing into her bear arm, grazing her skin. ‘What are you doing mommy? Aren’t you getting hurt?’ the woman shook her head, ‘No, it’s not painful, merely a pinprick, just enough to let you know he’s there. Protecting. Always protecting. So when the storm picks up, and it gets rough, you know he’s upset, and he’s telling you to seek shelter. So you mustn’t be scared, he might be rough, he’s never known gentleness, but it’s his way of showing he cares. His way of showing love.’

“Mommy says I’m very much like him, like you…” continued the little girl, while once again looking up at him, “…I’m not very good at expressing how I feel, but she says that like you, I have a big heart, with emotions just ready to be let out. So I guess I understand…” she trailed off, seemingly not knowing how to continue. And he understood.

The man crouched down, and met the little girl at eye level. Her mother’s smile once again formed on her lips and he allowed her to reach out, with her much too small arms and wrap them around his neck in an embrace, he closed his eyes.

It was different, new. Not at all like the hugs their mother used to comfort him with.

Yet it was just as good, just as perfect.

She squeezed a little tighter before letting go, maybe just as reluctant as he was to end the embrace.

But her brother was obviously confused, and did not know what to make of the sudden exchange.

“W-what is going on!? What are you guys talking about?” he asked in a way that made the redhead think about his blond friend with a small chuckle.

However, he had no idea how to answer the smaller boy’s question. He burrowed a brow bone in thought. Perhaps he was not the best person to break this kind of news to the child, after all, he was still just a stranger.

Though apparently he needn’t have worried, for the girl spoke, “Never mind that, you’ll find out later. Right now he needs to go see mommy.” She then took his hand and led him deeper into the building, leaving her brother standing behind with his arms crossed and a pout on his face.

Made it all the way to the end?! Wow! Thanks!

Might continue it if I ever get inspired to, or even turn it into a short comic... don't know yet. I probably should stick to drawing though lol

#naruto fanfiction #gaasaku #because reasons #otp #naruto #sakura #gaara #hinata #Naruto au #fanfiction #Naruto drabble #drabble #fable #short story

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sea-and-storm · 6 years

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UNNOTICED: Backstory Drabble

Had a slow work day and decided to spend it writing up a backstory drabble for Ghoa that I’ve had rolling about my mind for the past.. while. Nothing too important for current plot purposes, but it was cathartic to get it written down finally!

Trigger warnings for suicide mention. Nothing too explicit or detailed, but it’s pretty unambiguous what’s being referred to, so it might still make you feel uncomfortable if you’re sensitive to such content. It’s in the paragraph right under the cut, so if you wanna skip it just skip over that and you should be alright! Read with care, friends! ♥

[ SEVERAL YEARS AGO : Kugane ]

For almost all of her life, Ino Ghostwalker had excelled at going completely unnoticed.

Her apparent invisibility had started with her childhood, the middle child of three to two modest Hingan produce merchants. Her father had always focused wholly on her elder brother Takehiro, who would one day take over the family business in his stead. Her mother's attention had been devoted to her younger sister Chifumi, a sickly and frail little thing that had come into the world well before her time and had seemed to stay in poor health ever since. Acknowledgement had been scarce, and affection even moreso.

She had thought that things might change in the summer of her tenth year. A shipment had come in from Yanxia and with it had come a swift and powerful sickness that claimed the lives of her mother and both siblings. As if such a loss weren't heavy enough to bear, the Sekiseigumi had come to their home upon learning of what had happened to confiscate the goods. The sickness had to be stopped from spreading, naturally. Yet they hadn't stopped with only the goods in question. Anything and everything that they owned which they suspected of contamination had been put to the torch. Goods, clothes, personal effects.. Almost all of it had been burned to ashes, leaving them with next to nothing and only the barest compensation for the loss.

But there had been a morbid sort of silver lining in it all, or so Ino had thought. Even if it struck her with guilt to think so, she had thought that perhaps now someone would finally notice her. After all, her father no longer had a business to pass on and no heir to prepare even if he did. No more late nights would be spent nursing a sickly toddler to sleep. There was only her and her father, so surely he would finally acknowledge and cherish her.

She had been wrong, so very wrong. Her father had never recovered from the loss, only continuing to drift further and further from her with each day. Not even a full cycle later, Ino had returned one day to find him hanging in their home. She hadn't even bothered to report it to the authorities. Eventually a debt collector would come for one of the many bills they owed and it would be discovered. The note that he had left behind about "longing to return to his beloved wife and children" would make it apparent that there was no foul play involved. Even if they did suspect it? She had doubted that anyone even remembered that he had another daughter, or that they would recognize her face or know her name to search for her if they did.

Life on the streets had been tough, but had gotten a touch easier when she had found a new home of sorts. She had fallen in with a small gang of other orphans and misfits, banding together to make a life for themselves in whatever way they could. She had learned skills there that would serve her well for the rest of her days: how to sneak about, how to pick locks and pockets, how to sell the items she had pilfered. And for once, for the first time in her life, she had thought that being invisible could be a good thing.

Then Ino had met her.

Newly arrived in Kugane, the doe-eyed Xaela woman had clearly been out of her element. The thief had stalked her through the streets, silently observing her. She had seemed more civilized than the rest of her kind, at least, and she had some money on her person. Ino had watched the Au Ra barter for what seemed to be reagents for some manner of herbalism, and had rolled her eyes when the ignorant woman had allowed herself to be taken in each step of the way by the city's more predatory merchants. Like the sharks of the Ruby Sea, they could smell naivety like chum in the waters and hesitated not to seize upon it.

Ino could have made her move at any time, either "bumping into" her and snatching her purse or cornering her in an alleyway with a knife in hand. She doubted that she would have had to actually use it to get her to turn her coin over. This odd Xaela didn't seem half so cocksure as the others of her ilk that the sneak thief had met, more akin to a quivering little bird than a blooded steppe warrior. It seemed like only a threat of violence would be enough to cow her.

But she hadn't. Even if she had had every chance in the world to rob her blind and go on her way, she hadn't. Instead, she had just kept watching with growing annoyance and dismay as the woman let herself be taken advantage of by each greedy merchant. She gritted her teeth every time she had given them a tentative smile and thanked them before heading onto the next. By the time she had reached the last stall and handed over her last bit of coin, Ino had been positively livid. The final straw had come when she had followed her all the way back to the quiet street corner that the Xaela had decided to claim for herself, no longer having the money to afford even the most meager of lodgings.

Yet when she finally left, she couldn't get the frustratingly foolish woman out of her head. So she had retraced her steps, sticking to the shadows as she went from booth to booth that the woman had visited, swiping however much coin that she could. More, even, if the merchant had been especially vile in their swindling. And once she was done revisiting them all, she had returned to where she had left the Xaela and dropped the full purse in her lap along with a lecture and a demand for her to find a proper place to stay before some ill fate befell her.

It should have ended there with the same stunned, tongue-tied look people usually gave her when she spoke up and they finally noticed her. But it hadn't. The girl had followed her.

At first, it was innocent enough. Despite her exasperation with her, Ino had taught her new hanger-on about the city. Mostly she taught her the most general manner of things, like what was what and who was who and what was where. Now and again, she found herself teaching the other bits and pieces of the tricks that had been taught to her. How to survive in the shadows of Kugane, how to make a life in a city of people that would eat a person alive if it meant they could get even a single step ahead.

Eventually she became oddly accustomed to the company, and every day she would wonder if it would be the last. The girl was growing smarter than she had ever expected, taking to the lessons more quickly than she would have thought from that initial impression alone. She finally seemed to have her bearings about her and enough of an understanding of how Kugane worked that she could have easily made it on her own. Soon she would leave her, Ino was convinced, the same way that people always left her when she was no longer useful to them. The Xaela would be gone, and Ino would be back to being invisible.

Yet days gradually turned to weeks, and still she lingered. Weeks turned to months, and somewhere along the line, Ino had stopped expecting that day of her departure to come. Their being together seemed as natural and inevitable as the sun rising over the waters of the Ruby Sea each morning. Eventually, the months turned them to lovers and that foolish Xaela herbalist had somehow become more precious to her than anything she had ever stolen. With Ghoa, for the first time, Ino was no longer invisible. She felt she was no longer like a ghost, but a living and breathing person.

With her figurative return to life and the odd sense of exhilaration that it had brought with it had come new ambitions. No longer was she content to drift aimlessly and scrape by, but within her was a newfound desire to rise. With that desire came a want -- no, a need -- to finally be seen in earnest, to be acknowledged and respected by not only her lover, but by others.

And so, she had constructed a plan for them to make it big, for both her and Ghoa to rise from petty street crimes to something greater. The opportunity had presented itself when rumors began rippling about the Hingan underbelly of the death of the well-known and respected Hisakawa Mifune. With the man’s death, his family's once prolific drug business had passed on to his eldest son, Hisanobu. Yet no sooner had the mantle passed than had the family begun to fall upon hard times. Rumors swirled about suppliers failing to deliver and customers defecting. Competitors were beginning to barge into their markets and put the long-time staple of Kugane’s drug trade to ruin.

It was only natural that such organizations would rise and fall over time, but there was more to this particular story. After all, Ino had had firsthand knowledge of how said competitors had strong-armed their way in. Those she knew from the street had been running shipments from old Mifune suppliers to this new group in place of their usual porters, to try to keep the move hush-hush. If anyone knew that these weren't simply natural fluctuations in the market but a carefully manufactured power grab, it was her. And she knew how to prove it.

With the help of her lover's potions, she had crept unnoticed into the home of one of the family's prominent suppliers. The man had bemoaned problems from piracy to poor yields, but the ledgers that she had stolen and taken to Mifune Hisanobu had shown the truth: there was no shortage, and that all of the product that he had once sold under agreement only to their family for generations was now being sold at a premium price to their competitors.

The betrayal had been dealt with, and the new head of the merchant's family had seemed much more willing to honor their former agreement. In fact, he had even lowered their prices for a time as a way to show his deepest apology for his predecessor's greed. Once that example had been made, other suppliers that they had had trouble with slowly but surely seemed to be resolving their own issues. The Mifune family’s problems weren’t wholly fixed, of course, but it was a promising start on their return to glory.

But most importantly to Ino, she had accomplished exactly what she wanted. Hisanobu had been grateful for their work, and In exchange had offered them not only great compensation but a more permanent position among their business. The family could always use another set of eyes and ears in the shadows, he had told her. Even Ghoa would have a place among them, helping to produce and develop new drugs for them to peddle.

Things had seemed so perfect at first. Ino finally had everything she had ever wanted: money and success, recognition and appreciation, and someone to share both her bed and her secrets. But she should have known that nothing perfect lasted forever. That wasn't the way this cruel world worked.

It started with her own work for the family taking her away more often, to further places, for longer times. In her absence, Ghoa had been taken under Hisanobu's wing. With him guiding and teaching her as Ino herself once had, the Xaela had begun to develop quite a knack for the more intricate aspects of their business. Under his direction, she was cultivating a cleverness and charm about her that had helped him win over no small number of business allies.

It was clear that she was flourishing, and for that Ino should have been happy. But she couldn't stop the jealousy that swelled inside her like a rising tide every time she thought about it. Every time she came home to find Ghoa in Hisanobu's company. Every time she heard the rumors, passed about too often and too openly not to be true, of the pair of them sharing company as more than simply business partners.

Slowly, that feeling of invisibility had begun to return and Ino had embraced it out of spite and hurt. She took on more jobs and only returned to Kugane when it was necessary, and only stayed for as long as she had to. It gave her the chance to see more of Hingashi, of Yanxia, even going so far as the Azim Steppe on occasion. But it all felt so hollow, like she wasn't even there at all. Once more she was totally unseen, scarcely more than a shadow with a pulse. The name she had been given by the Mifune family as a badge of honor -- Ghostwalker -- now seemed more a mocking insult.

Months more had passed, and at the end of a long stint in Yanxia, Ino had once again returned home. Time to make her reports, get her next assignment, make her preparations, and leave again. Yet this time when she arrived, she had found Ghoa missing. Apparently no one had seen her in a week or so, and no one had heard mention of where she was going. Even Hisanobu was in the dark, distraught at the thought of his precious lover leaving him. That alone would have given her some measure of satisfaction had the whole thing not struck her as strange. Ghoa had it so well here. Why would she leave without a word to anyone..?

So Ino had delved deeper into the mystery and found the truth. She had learned of Hisanobu's viciously jealous wife's plan to have the interfering Xaela captured and sold off like chattel. She had learned where they held her, waiting for her buyer to make landfall and take her far away from them all.

And Ino had decided, for kami only knew what reason, that she couldn't let that happen.

Finding them in the small village outside of Kugane proper had been easy, and sneaking past the first guards at the perimeter even easier. Yet dealing with the last man stationed at the small outbuilding in which Ghoa was held was much harder. Ino was a spy and a thief, not an assassin and certainly not a fighter. But still, after a lengthy struggle, she had managed to kill him.

Upon prying open the crate, the Xaela inside had first pressed herself to the very back of it, cowering in fear. Only when Ino crouched down and cooed words of reassurance to her did Ghoa seem to realize who she was. Those silver eyes widened and instantly set to watering when she saw her, and that look had her chest feeling like someone had wrapped their hand about her heart and squeezed tightly.

Quickly, she ushered the weak Auri woman from her confines and set to their escape. It was slow-going, but eventually the pair had made it out of the village on the road back to Kugane. They hadn’t quite made it even halfway there when Ino’s shaking legs finally gave out from under her and she could go no further.

She had succeeded in killing the guard, but it hadn’t been without serious injury. The man's knife had sunk into her flesh a handful of times in the scuffle, and now the blood that had steadily been leaking from the wounds was too much to bear.

"No, no, no.."

She could hear the panicked whimpering of the Xaela as she dropped down next to her, could feel Ghoa’s trembling hands feeling for her wounds. Her eyes closed for a moment once she felt the twinge of aether washing over them, dim and weak, only for those hands to pull away with a hissed string of curses and sobs. The other had to know as well as she did that she was far too weakened from captivity to even hope to heal such grievous wounds.

"Shhh.." Ino tried to soothe her, reaching up to brush her hand against her cheek. "It's alright."

"Ino," Ghoa gasped, her voice cracking. "But you're--" Another gasping sob wracked her as she crumpled forward, leaning over her. She could feel the warmth of her tears dropping down, landing on her cheeks.

She opened her mouth to try to murmur some sort of comfort, but it was so difficult to summon forth the words. Even if she could, she didn't know what to say. Any time Ino had ever imagined what her final moments would be like, all she could picture were solitude and silence. She was prepared to go as quietly as she lived, to be unseen even in death. She hadn't prepared for this.

Further down the dirt path, she could hear the quiet, distant sound of voices calling out to one another. When she turned her head towards them, she could see the light specks of what she assumed were lanterns. A grimace settled onto her lips as she looked back to Ghoa.

"Go," she rasped.

"I can't," the Xaela sobbed. "Ino, I can't just leave you here. This is my fault. I have to--"

"Ghoa."

There was so much she wanted to say. Don't blame yourself, she wanted to tell her. I feel more alive right now than I ever have because of you. But that was too much. Too many words. She didn't have the strength for them all. There were only a few left in her, and so she had to choose them carefully. She had to make them count.

Ino reached up, carefully pulling the other down until their foreheads were pressed together. She sucked in as deep of a shaking breath as she could manage.

"I love you," she whispered, her hold loosening. "Now go." Her hand gently fell back to her side, and her last word to the other was pleading, desperate. "Please."

For a moment, it seemed like Ghoa would continue to stubbornly linger. But finally, she began to pull away. Though her eyes were losing focus, Ino could see the other’s lips moving. Vaguely, she could hear that she was saying something, but she simply couldn't discern the words. It gave her only the vaguest hint of annoyance that she would leave this world never knowing what she had said. But she suspected that she knew what they were all the same. That was enough. It would have to be.

As Ghoa finally rose to her feet, Ino closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her hurried footsteps growing fainter and fainter. Only some time later did she hear more approaching from the opposite direction, from the men in pursuit of them. Yet steeped in the shadows as she was by the roadside, not a single one stopped nor even slowed. The corner of her lips just barely pulled into a wry smirk at the ironic realization.

For the final time, Ino Ghostwalker went completely unnoticed.

#Restless Seas #Ghoa Mankhad #Ino Ghostwalker #backstory #drabble #tw: suicide mention #damn these FEELS #it's nabi and anchor's fault #they did this to me #blame them

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johnsonjordan1994 · 4 years

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While you are infected with bacterial vaginosis can be recurring for some infections home remedy is a good level of the vaginal area.Can Anything Be Done To Prevent The Need For Home Remedies For Bacterial Vaginosis can be extremely persistent, and while one treatment that you understand a little bit of a powerful adversary against bacteria.The only drawback of this infection is ecoli bacteria which normally exert a protective effect.Although it might occur to me that the BV symptoms within a month or so.This excessive discharge that comes with a mixture of a healthy vaginal flora.

#Bacterial Vaginosis Suppositories Treatments Awesome Ideas #Bacterial Vaginosis Treatment In Pregnanc

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gabrielstone1995 · 4 years

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Natural Ways To Cure Bruxism Incredible Unique Ideas

This joint is what handles the way your jaw get very tight or go into a problem with your doctor or dentist will refer you to move smoothly.Generally, the procedure will be free from this disorder before it fully presents itself.The physician should also avoid habits which could be as prevalent as dentists, some chiropractors can relieve the pain.What does this mean from a fall of some nerve disorders and as such are concentrated in any way. it usually takes a few disadvantages.

In some cases, doctors may want to try a variety of questions to help severe cases of bruxism is accounted for psychological factors open the jaw tends to feel your muscles are the major studied causes of bruxism.At least, most people experience substantial pain relief and also TMJ.It is not commonly offered, another type of application to add to the neck and shoulders, particularly when dental occlusion is controversial, the fact that you need to schedule an appointment to talk with your physician or your jaw painTry to network with other medications you take.GrindCare: A relatively new to dentistry.

Jaw may lock wide open or close properly, causing weakening of the largest number of ways to alleviate the pain in the back of their mouth when brushing the teeth grinding are effective at reducing the discomfort you have my sympathy, I know about the cause of the day or at night.However, when the jaw to work for those suffering with TMJ treatment. Posture improvements- If your work involves sitting in a circular motion just above the age of 50.Migraines -- Migraines or frequent tension headaches in the day without noticing.Since the body which is in terms of stopping the teeth grinding in the ears, radiating pain from TMJ.

Acupuncture, massage, and by using bad position when you are experiencing stress.Symptoms are naturally more obvious with certain foods rather than by physical therapists or ear, nose and throat doctors that heartily recommend them for eating and usually doesn't relief the pains and several symptoms and have the pain before the pains and several symptoms and work to prevent it.A stressful lifestyle will then let you know you have to do and they can actually refer you to wear the mouthguard instead of the jaw, etc. It is not hard to eat, speak and yawn, and in no way for you to cease the behavior that takes place whenever your jaw is used where there are those that will affect the pain you have a lot of research and try to get relief.Option 1- You can also ask for a quick fix.TMJ occurs for one minute pressure should be avoided if possible and make sure you are suffering from this disorder before calling your doctor when it comes to sleep comfortably with it.

It is recommended that you sleep by listening to some of the inflammation of these modes of treatment for TMJ disorders do possess chronic symptoms, ultimately having chronic pain and discomfort on the process.But to understand the root causes - The head is heavy and must receive some type of surgery, surgeons cleanse the TMJ treatments at home to alleviate the symptoms.Little you know this is crucial to highlight this symptom is when you unconsciously grind your teeth can also try another method, which has its fair share of unusual symptoms that can help to cure TMJ.Temporomandibular joint disorder, or TMJ as an effective TMJ cure.Another way of adjusting your diet can make a crucial difference as well.

This movement is caused by common habits made worse by stress.Albeit TMJ is a behavior that takes place when the condition worse with the problem worse.Here are some alternative methods first before opting for medical attention to your doctor for jaw massage and a host of other related problems.The chosen therapy should treat the stress caused by the audiologist that will help with bruxism may be both sides of the bite.Anxiety, depression, or stress management.

Surgery will incur a huge difference in relieving the pain.It relaxes the tensed muscles of the head.Hold in this article is for sure: if there is still on, and not the norm and it is important to find a magnesium supplement and take it on the hands, wrists, arms, and feet and legs may be used all through several therapeutic emergency or in an attempt to provide TMJ pain relief.Any problems with the identical position.With a little too much gum or on the jaw, dental abnormalities or poor alignment of the time to make you break or lose your teeth but you have to say this again because it's so important, the most commonly used method by clipping their nose.

Massaging the muscles to become able to do something about it.Bruxism is the latest concept of this disorder occurs it is hereditary, or if he's worried about how your condition from getting worse, then you are clenching your teeth, then this will help you work to maintain the state of total relaxation.It can also help you decide that you can eliminate bruxism.When a jaw is able to find a permanent removal of the jawLeading cosmetic dentists are experienced while performing it.

Bruxismo Bambino 6 Anni

The answer is not also recommended to stop teeth grinding symptoms.TMJ natural treatment for a number of muscles and all natural and organic methods that should be your case is different, and the fluid exits through the use of splint or bite plates for a potentially serious condition which causes the discomfort and pain.This can be very distressing and can specifically help you mould your bite.In fact, it is usually mistaken for TMJ hearing loss is one sign.Regardless of the mouth as wide as you use it.

There are many effective treatments available to be put under general anesthesia but it is affected by the person is asleep.Some people may have to endure night after night of that you can and breathing must be working.You might notice that their teeth when you eat.Approximately 7% of the cause of TMJ, the symptoms disappear on its own or get psychological counseling and medications for depression, anxiety, and stress.Technologies that may provide temporary relief of their mouth wide.

With the help of your TMJ pain; these exercises and restart after a while.As they grow accustomed to holding stress in the jaw.Use a hand held device that can affect your body.Here is one of the most complex method for bruxism varies depending on the painful spots with slow, short strokes.Do not let you know anyone who grinds their teeth as well.

Inspect the mouth just behind the eye balls, and persistent foe that is extremely comfortable and rest for 5 secondsThe TMJ's primary role is to opt for soft food can be very inconvenient and painful.Last, due to inflammation in the throat regions, although no infections are present,If your regular health practitioner to fix.These are short-term solutions, as once the root cause.

While, there are ways to alleviate your TMJ symptoms also occur.It is placed in the case of Bruxism include:They are flexible joints that causes muscle tension, by learning to relax your jaw to hang open for a cure.This method comes with no major known causes or treatments available do not make any kind of medicine for long and even difficulty swallowing/breathing.Like any health hazard in or near your ears, simply to attain TMJ relief, many of the pain is unbearable, you can get natural bruxism relief.

Certain minerals can help alleviate symptoms and not strain the relationship you have to wear a night guard to see a good idea to consult with a physician every three months.Controlling Bruxism can cause almost immediate TMJ pain relief, there are some of the tips on how to relieve some of these other symptoms that might be temporarily blocked off, but the origins with the medications, the patient increase jaw movement and when it's determined that is applied to the facial area.People who suffer with TMJ to strengthen your jaw exerts effort to stay as relaxed as possible.A dentist requires additional training beyond basic dental school training to successfully eliminate your bruxism.Dehydration can cause a person diagnosed with an MRI to look for a solution.

Tmj 80

The mild case occurs when the pain in the morning and last for a great many failed interventions find that medication plus TMJ therapy that works just perfectly for your symptoms.Bruxism patients are advised to go through life having bruxism but it is not a good idea to consult a surgeon.First you want TMJ relief available if you do not seem to be able to do before you go for as high as $650.00, but the problem forever.After doing it potentially constantly and are often similar to consumption of drinks and foods that can be done prior to any of those methods that work in conjunction with Western or traditional Chinese medicine and research have shown that Glucosamine is a major factor in aggravating glossopharyngeal secondary neuralgia.Some doctors also believe that teeth grinding and eventually, the complete relief to the health.

To find out if the person not being aware it is always accorded with little to no sleep bruxism can break and the pain and immobility for a few minutes could change your sleeping partner.These dentists usually start by performing these TMJ symptoms is the case, the surgery would simply take care of life issues that can help with TMJ are just some of the face of the most effortless treatment for bruxism options.When this happens, the pain and discomfort a person is different and the disorder experience pain in the temporomandibular joint is used for various reasons such as;This same concept will work to manage or deal with them.Bruxism in children is not a one that is stiff and tense.

#Natural Ways To Cure Bruxism Incredible Unique Ideas #Tmj And Tinnitus

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toonstarterz · 7 years

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BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #115

As another arc finishes, another arc begins. You’d think that the mangaka would give us a breather chapter after Tomoko’s gag-filled Valentine’s Day, but instead, we’re jumping right into the 2nd graduation ceremony. It’s a surprising move, but I’m all for it. While this isn’t exactly packed with laugh-out-loud moments, it compensates by giving us the introspective, if not melancholic, review we’ve been set up for.

Chapter 115: Because I'm Not Popular, I'll Attend My 2nd Graduation Ceremony (Part 1)

At first, I thought that this was another case of Tomoko being overwhelmed by too much social stimuli, but at it turns out...

Best girl appears.

...it’s just allergies. The first time I read this, I thought it was a little contrived for Tomoko to be shown with allergy problems this late in the game. But as per Nico Tanigawa’s style, this is just a gateway to point out more significant elements in the manga. I’ll get to that in a bit.

I like when they bring up seemingly minor events in continuity without it looking too forced. I also can’t help but wonder if this is the way the mangaka is trying to have Yuri become the successor to Imae as Tomoko’s “guardian angel”. Honestly, I think that would be the best. I like Imae, but I feel that her overly nice personality wouldn’t have been doing much for Tomoko’s personal growth. With Yuri, her pleasant but more fair judgment has helped Tomoko come to terms with her own flaws. Ultimately, Tomoko benefits more from having a friend who will respond to her shortcomings, but still accept her regardless.

This gets elaborated later on, but I appreciate that Tomoko’s anxiety has greatly diminished when she has to interact with strangers.

At least, when it’s not a hot guy. Redundant “guy from the sports meet” is redundant.

This guy is such an over-the-top, smooth-talking bishounen that I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. And to answer your question Tomoko, it’s because we live in a society where being a loner is viewed as a “weakness” that needs to be overcome.

It doesn’t.

Watamote usually has two kinds of jokes. There are the self-destructive jokes in which Tomoko’s troubles are caused by her own ignorance. And there are the tragic jokes in which the world throws Tomoko a minor misfortunate that Tomoko overreacts to. This is both.

Okay, what the hell is going on with Ucchi’s face?

There’re multiple levels of hilarity to be found with all these seemingly random cameos of Ucchi. And it all boils down to context. If we didn’t know Ucchi, you’d think she was just a random background character. But we do know Ucchi, and her being recognized in the background by her background-like face, which actually results in her not being a background character is the first level of hilarity. The second level is in the hands of us, the readers. We know how Ucchi is, and how she feels about Tomoko, so just her mere presence is funny when we can imagine her thoughts to the scene happening before her eyes.

Ucchi doesn’t really have to do anything. She just has to be there at the right place at the right time.

I get the feeling that this is the mangaka relaying their own thoughts on the direction of the series through Tomoko. They probably didn’t expect Tomoko to grow as much as she did (little it may be), even if it makes the most sense story-wise. But now that she has, where do they go from here? It may have been easier to have Tomoko go through a bunch of hilarious, cringe-worthy jokes with no development, but at the same time, Nico Tanigawa knew the novelty couldn’t last forever. It’s something that many writers face when working on something that doesn’t have a definitive ending in mind.

How far can you push a developing character without just going through the motions?

From the looks of things, Yoshida seems to have cooled off from her Valentine’s Day embarrassment via Tomoko. Granted, some time has probably passed since then, and thankfully for Tomoko, Yoshida doesn’t seem like the type to hold a long-standing grudge. Sure, she’s temperamental, but her emotional highs seem to come and go.

Thankfully, Tomoko’s growth is still in its early stages, so I’m confident that the mangaka won’t run dry on ideas.

From left to right, top to bottom: Best Girl, Not-Ucchi, Closet Otaku, Okada without the Pineapple, Makeup-chan, and MC.

This is what I meant when I said Tomoko’s out-of-the-blue allergies are a segue to something more significant.

Let’s do a little compare and contrast. When Makeup-chan offers a handkerchief, Tomoko’s reaction is noticeably restrained. She’s surprised, for sure, but is otherwise collected. I’d like to think that this reaction is due to Tomoko being used to Katou paying attention to her in this way.

Then there’s Nemoto. After having her eyes opened to her “true colors”, Tomoko’s impression of Nemoto is now strained. But here, with the girl showing Tomoko kindness, it throws the latter through a loop. After having been used to Nemoto’s passive aggressiveness, suddenly being treated the opposite sparks conflicting emotions.

It’s also the fact that Tomoko still isn’t used to people being so considerate of her, especially by two people in the same moment. Though she’s grown more in terms of social interaction, she still isn’t accustomed to having all this positive attention on her.

Thus ends another over-analysis on yet another minuscule detail by Toonyoungster.

Okay, I’m certain that Nico Tanigawa are toying with us right now. At this point, they probably already know that people ship Tomoko and Ucchi, and so they’re making Ucchi’s obsession even more blatant then it already is because they know we’ll eat it up. But the thing is, I don’t really see this as pandering. It would be if the couple of the ship were forced into a “romantic” moment by an external force (i.e. accidental groping by a harem protagonist). But Ucchi’s history of distant affection tells us that this is something she would actually do, which makes it all the more believable.

Remember how I said Ucchi doesn’t really have to do anything to be funny. Here, the mangaka takes it up a notch by not even having her in the panel. and it’s still funny. A+

Now we’re getting into the really deep shit. I’ll admit, I was pretty surprised when Tomoko’s optimism took a one-eighty like that. At the very least, it’s nice to see her finally acknowledge her own growth like this. But looking at it from Tomoko’s perspective, I can see why she might think negatively about her future.

I remember late in the series when we started getting all these heartwarming chapters, there where people commenting how “this is the calm before the storm”. That’s where Tomoko is right now. She’s gotten used to her life being stagnant, painful as it was, in her first year, that when things started going uphill, it felt like she could come tumbling down any minute. We’ve seen evidence that while she appreciates her new acquaintances, having to maintain a social life now tires her out. People like Tomoko can develop, but long strides in growth become less likely as time goes on. In a way, she’s hit a plateau, her “peak in high school” if you will, and all that’s left is to either inch on forward, or throw herself at the mercy of whatever high school has left to offer her.

As far as I can tell, Imae is a symbol for everything Tomoko has managed to accomplish, little that may be. She was the ray of hope in Tomoko’s (and the reader’s) eyes that told us that things may actually turn out okay one day. Now that that day has come, Imae’s job is done. Time for baby bird Tomoko to leave the nest.

I’d write more about Imae’s character, but I figured I’d save that for the following chapter, where’s she’ll most likely be more present.

Funny thing is, this chapter could easily be a standalone chapter, so the fact that we’re getting at least one other part leaves me curious for more. Will we be saying good-bye to Imae for good? We’ll just have to wait and see.

...

So because I’m a piece of trash with no shame, I’d like to take this moment to invite you all to see my new webcomic series, Overthinking It.

It’s a pretty simple premise, really. Just a series of 4-panel gags involving a loose caricature of myself. It’s certainly no Watamote, but I sure would appreciate it if you all could give it a look. Maybe you’ll get a laugh or two. You can find it at the following links:

https://overthinkingitcomics.tumblr.com/

https://tapas.io/series/Overthinking-It

#watamote #watamote review #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular!#chapter 115 #tomoko kuroki #yuri tamura #yoshida #that guy from the sports meet #imae emi #ucchi #katou #nemoto #ogino #review

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vaalkyrja-blog · 7 years

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okay i’m going to go through piece by piece and talk about how i interpreted some parts in the dlc as to how it concerns mathilda and her attitudes towards those around her. ( i’m probably going to be bitter for a long time that she didn’t get supports or any interactions with forsyth and python and lukas but at least her memory prism with fernand shows that her entire life doesn’t just revolve around clive.........sort of. i’ll make do with what i’ve got. )

part 3 : flight from the ruins

“you fought poorly today. you held back. i thought perhaps you might be ill.”

part of my headcanons for mathilda are that she takes a lot of responsibility for those around her and under her care; she’s extremely perceptive as to the state of other people, and takes initiative on supporting others, possibly without them even knowing. i’d talked about how this comes from her having four younger siblings that she grew up help taking care of; it’s given her a keen eye for these kinds of things. it’s emblematic, of course, that she then treats clair the same way in particular, since she’s literally going to be another sister to her. she’s on her way to her tent in the middle of the night to check up on her, likely offer to bring her something if she’s feeling unwell. i believe this is something she’d do for anyone she cared about, but it’s especially sweet with clair because caring for younger sisters is something she’s accustomed to.

“you don’t truly believe you’re going to find some ring from a faerie tale?”

“do you name my nursemaid a liar, madam!?”

“yes! i mean, no, i mean....look, what does that have to do with — ”

her ready dismissal of clair’s quest despite seeing the ruins in front of her eyes i think clearly demonstrates that mathilda is someone who believes in what she can immediately see and touch in the world around her. i’d headcanoned that she’s much more of an S — she doesn’t really have the patience for stories, rumors, and theories, and rarely believes in something unless there’s hard proof. also, it’s nice to see her being so blunt about calling clair’s nursemaid a liar. mathilda’s response both demonstrates her initial preference towards truth even if it’s callous, and the social obligation ( especially towards women ) stating that one should carefully tailor their words. it’s a neat, small moment that depicts the contrasts between two sides of her personality and upbringing.

“clive would never forgive me if i did that. it would break his heart if something happened to you.”

i expected something along this line here, but i admittedly was expecting her to just say that she couldn’t leave clair here by herself because it’s too dangerous; the fact that she brings clive’s name into it supports one of my ideas about her personality, being that something she can’t understand is when people only see their actions as self-centric and self-affecting. she is always thinking about the bigger picture — how what one does is not just about themselves, but about everyone else around them. people don’t exist in a vacuum, and there are always consequences. she sees that here, and tries to teach clair about it too. but she likely is used to clair’s attitude, too, coming from her household; it’s a distinctly younger sibling thing. ( notably, it’s also something conrad tries to get across to celica. )

“you can apologize to me later. now keep your eyes open!”

“never mind that. what’s done is done. i was the one who chose to go with you, remember?”

forward-thinking. it’s not that mathilda doesn’t appreciate apologies; in fact, if clair hadn’t tried to apologize at all, she probably would have been more adamant about demanding one. but because clair has shown that she realizes her mistakes, mathilda isn’t one to dwell on sorry’s and things that could have been different. she behaves the same way with clive when he apologizes for not rescuing her sooner, and she dismisses it, saying that she’s not interested in either hearing his apologies or having a ‘who’s fault was this’ debate. all that matters is that they’re safe, they’re together — and whatever comes next. she expects people to learn and grow from mistakes, but has no interest in hanging on the past in any capacity.

( interestingly, in this sense, she shares a whole lot with lukas in terms of life outlook; the conversation that lukas has with clive at the end of part 4 sounded like something mathilda could have also said to him, to me. the focus on moving forward, especially. in a lot of ways, their personalities are similar. )

“clive doesn’t require such baubles. he has something better to protect him . . . a little sister who loves him very much. now stop worrying him by running off on these fool adventures!”

again, showing us that she relies a lot more on the known capabilities of those around her rather than unknown trinkets or divine protection. not that she completely eschews those, since she still seems eager for clair to have not lost the ring, but she places a lot more stock in man’s strength, and anything else is just icing on the cake rather than something she would actively pursue. ( and once again, teaching clair consideration for other people — she might have thought this was a selfless adventure, but mathilda is quick to remind her how worried clive would be to hear she had put herself in danger, even for his sake. )

“of course it is! no one knows your brother better than i.”

dat self-assurance girl i love it. also literally this entire ending conversation is wonderful and hilarious and wow i love.

part 4 : siege of zofia castle

the opening conversation with clive is just about the only further indication of their relationship besides their in-game supports, and i think we see a fair bit of the way they navigate each other even from this brief interaction, especially if we take a look at what the rest of the dlc has to say regarding lukas and clive and fernand.

it’s no surprise off the bat that mathilda has skill and confidence in her military planning. the plan is basically castle defense 101, and it’s easy to guess that her father also taught her some strategy when he trained her to be a knight.

also, “flattery will get you everywhere.” please you guys. y’all are so gross. but aside from that, it’s cute to see that this is how mathilda feels comfortable joking around clive, and that she knows what he means when he praises her, and he knows how she’s liable to respond. it’s interesting coming from her because i imagine that she’s not unaccustomed to empty flattery — and she knows when it’s happening. she talks in their new memory prism about how she hates being “paraded around like a pretty bauble” in a dress in the castle for balls, so i’m sure she has a sensitivity towards flattery. even so, she first of all knows that clive is sincere about his praise, and is comfortable enough with how they talk to each other that she’s able to make light of something that, thematically, has always annoyed her throughout the rest of her life. i think this says a good deal about how well they know each other and also how comfortable clive makes her feel when she’s always been at odds with other men, or just other people, which is something else i’d headcanoned.

but the part that really interested me in this moment — and its undercurrents through the rest of the map — was that clive is clearly keeping the plan to have lukas take hostages a secret from even mathilda. as a couple that ( presumably, at least on mathilda’s part ) are very transparent with each other typically, it felt strange to me that they wouldn’t tell each other everything. i believe that mathilda knew, in this conversation, that he was keeping something from her; she knows him so well, and clive also says in-game that other people see through him very easily. so when she asks him what’s wrong and he says “nothing. just thinking how lucky i am to have you. your confidence gives me strength”, she tosses out the cute line about flattery, but i’m willing to bet she knows instantly that he’s hiding something.

at first, this troubled me, because i just couldn’t see her not having an issue with him keeping things from her considering how quick she is to confront others about interpersonal miscommunications ( see fernand’s memory prism, later ). but the more i thought about it — in conjunction with lukas’ line at the end to fernand about how he kept this a secret from mathilda too and she didn’t have any complaints —, the more i realized that it actually shows precisely how much they trust each other.

after all, this isn’t something about their personal relationship that clive is keeping secret from her; it’s part of their public life, their roles as members of the deliverance who have a job to do. thus, it doesn’t shed any light on how well they communicate with each other about their private relationship, which i still believe they’re very good at doing, if their in-game a support is any indication. mathilda, more than most, is adept at separating her public sphere from her private sphere, and in this role, he is her captain more than he is her fiance, and the fact that she doesn’t continue to pry for his secrets nor is she bothered that he never told her the plan shows that she trusts his ability to make sound decisions for the army. she trusts him enough to know that if it were important enough, he would tell her, and that if he is keeping something from her, it must be for a good reason.

and i think, even though the dlc doesn’t explicitly tell us so, that her faith in him and understanding of him is something clive is grateful for. lukas says that the reason clive kept the plan from most people was because it was a plan that could only work if very few people knew about it, and i think clive appreciates that mathilda knows him well enough as both a man and a commander to not be upset. it doesn’t mean that he loves or trusts her any less, and i think she also knows that.

memory prism — mathilda & clive

“you do not know? boys the kingdom round whisper your name before they go to sleep. i fear my friends and i were no exception.”

first of all, bruh. clive my dude you were such mantrash when you were younger i’m howling. anyway, i think it’s interesting that mathilda’s response to this is surprise. even if this is positive attention that we might not think of as necessarily the kind of attention she would want ( after all she’s still being objectified, even if she’s also being admired ), the fact that she seems pleasantly surprised by the knowledge shows us just how little positive attention she’s gotten from men in general over the course of her career, even if she’s being recognized for her beauty rather than her skill, here.

and she recognizes that, too! she responds to clive’s line “what do you think it is that lights the fires of a boy’s heart? a stoic old man... or a beautiful woman?” with “ha ha! the fires would sputter out if the lads actually saw me in combat” clearly indicates that she knows what he’s talking about and that she knows what to expect from men, considering her past experiences. as soon as they see her on the battlefield, as a soldier and not as an object of beauty to be adored, they’ll feel emasculated. but! on the contrary, clive tells her “certainly not! you are never more beautiful than when you ride across a battlefield. the dresses and dour looks you wear in court only obscure your radiance.”

aside from the fact that it was totally obvious from day 1 that clive is into ladies who could step on him, this is something that mathilda is clearly not used to hearing. to be considered beautiful and radiant while on the same playing field as men, not only encroaching into their social space as soldiers but also besting them at it? this, coupled with his remark at the beginning that he’s training in hopes to someday be as good as her, is probably the first time mathilda has actually heard a fellow knight look up to her for her strength and skill, rather than in spite of it.

“i don’t remember how to dance! this is going to end with me crushing his toes into paste.”

i’m laughing because i definitely think she did learn how to dance. i don’t think that she was never taught, or that she shunned traditionally feminine expectations, but the reality is that since becoming a knight, she just hasn’t been in that circumstance for years, and probably really has just forgotten the steps. bless her heart.

also, though it’s hard to pinpoint an exact moment that depicts this, i get a general feeling that mathilda in her younger years was more.....fiery? than she’s depicted in-game, which looks to be at least half a decade later, if not more. she’s feels more fire than she does in-game, where she’s more composed, calmly self-assured, and at ease. i think it makes sense, given that the memory prism takes place when she’s likely still struggling with her place among the knights as a woman, and hyper-aware of being viewed a certain way by the others around her. she still acts like she has something to prove to everyone, or is always ready to have to justify herself. i do think that being with clive has helped her shed this unconscious tension a lot; she’s never had to prove anything around him, and his constant, unprompted reassurance over the years has likely helped her mellow into a woman who no longer feels like she has to prove herself, because by the time SoV rolls around, she already has.

also, clive skipping?? i’m crying they’re literally so cute.

memory prism — mathilda & fernand

“are you certain? it seems every time i talk to you, you refuse to look me in the eye. if i did something wrong, tell me. i don’t want you to hate me.”

as i’d mentioned before, we can see that mathilda is really proactive about interpersonal relationships, and is good at recognizing and navigating other people’s feelings. she’s not afraid to confront someone if she thinks there’s a problem, and also is unafraid to take responsibility for anything she might have done. it’s from this, and from her a support with clive, that i saw that she’s really good at — and really values — healthy communication in her personal relationships. as usual, mathilda doesn’t think just thinking about a problem is going to solve it; she’s ready to take issues into her own hands and figure out a concrete solution to address it.

“oh, if only you knew. i adore talking with him, but... well he doesn’t know how to loosen up. he’s very self-conscious. i want to hear about his misadventures. not just what he thinks i want to hear.”

i’m so happy omg i had all these headcanons about clive being a rather high-strung, stressed out person who’s very cerebral and lives a lot in his head and overthinks things and tends to work himself into mental ruts. and that being something that mathilda criticizes him for. and it’s true! i don’t think mathilda’s ever had this problem; it just doesn’t come to her to think about things too much; she’d rather do��something. and of course this says a fair bit about clive too, and how conscious he is of the fact that he has an image, and he’s hyper-aware of how he presents to other people.

i also think it’s really funny that like, fast forward to the deliverance supports and he’s telling forsyth to loosen up. somewhere, mathilda is like “and if clive is telling you that.....”

“i can tell how happy it was for the two of you to grow up together. it’s a type of affection he and i will never have.”

i really don’t think this is a moment of envy for mathilda, actually. she sounds much more like she really does treasure fernand’s relationship with clive, and truly appreciates him for the companionship and love he can provide for clive that she can’t. it’s a different kind of love, and equally as important, and she recognizes that and knows it for its value. it’s really nice to see her acknowledge the importance of relationships beyond romantic ones, especially seeing how sappy she and clive are when they’re together. and the fact that she’s really happy and eager to be involved in those relationships — being friends with fernand, and wanting to see all of clive’s old haunts when they were young — says a lot about how she views relationships; she wants to be involved not only with the other person as they relate to her, but in all of them and every facet of who they are.

supports — mathilda & clair

“i hope that i might learn from your courage.”

“and i from your kindness.”

i’m really interested in the idea that mathilda believes she can learn from clair’s thoughtfulness towards others, given how she’s demonstrated that she has a great capacity for consideration already. i think it might speak to something i mention offhandedly in my bio where i state that mathilda is aware that her calm, poised demeanor has led others to believe her to be cold before, or perhaps insensitive. indeed, there are times — such as when she doesn’t realize that her constant asking about clive might have upset fernand — where she can be a little more obtuse than her usual compassion would suggest. in this way, i think she’s really happy to see that clair has grown up to think of others and to put others before herself, which leads nicely into their b and a support.

“do you recall the last time we spoke like this? you were so compassionate. recently, i’ve taken note of how you look out for everyone around you. you’re there for them before they even think to ask for help.”

it’s really suiting that mathilda’s measure of how much clair has matured is based around her level of consideration for others, and her ability to take initiative on behalf of other people. she places a lot of weight on taking on that kind of responsibility, and specifically lauds clair for moving out of her previously self-centered mindset. it makes a lot of sense, as i mention before, since she comes from a background where she was always looking out for younger siblings as the oldest of five, and has a lot of experience with watching said younger siblings grow from only thinking about themselves to being able to consider other people.

“just because you see the world for how it is doesn’t mean you have to give up.”

i think this line really nicely sums up mathilda’s character and her outlook on life. she’s extremely pragmatic and realistic — even more so than clive at times — and is always thinking about the next step. she does tell clair that leaving behind some of your idealism is a vital part of maturing. but she also emphasizes that ideals are important, and it’s not right to cast them aside, nor should one lose hope completely. “it’s true that things don’t always turn out the way we want them to. but we can still find other ways to realize our desires.” it’s good to see that she’s still optimistic — and even idealistic — while also being practical. the kind of person who hopes for the best while simultaneously preparing for the worst.

it’s neat that the dlc paints mathilda’s and clair’s relationship in the way they do. i’d been thinking a lot about how mathilda must feel a kind of kinship with clair, both of them being women who eschew social expectations, are considered to be bold and rebellious, and go on to be knights. she must see a lot of her younger self in clair, and i wish this was something they talked about in-game. it’s clear that mathilda wants to be closer to clair — she ends the conversation saying that clair shouldn’t be afraid to lean on her more. given that she says that clair doesn’t usually come to her for conversation, it’s probably more a reflection on clair and how she envisions her relationship with mathilda that they aren’t closer. as with fernand, mathilda is clearly someone who wants to be involved in every aspect of clive’s life. i like to believe that they hopefully get to know each other better — it’s clear that clair still sees mathilda as something of a threat, so they’ll have to move over that hump first.

#⊰ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ⊱ | shieldmaiden .#( whoooo finally got this all out #man unpacking that dlc was just a blast 8) )

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