#*my* father will probably never even attempt to make amends for the things he’s done to us

[inkykeiji]

ughhhhhh lately i don’t want to talk about, think about, or write about anyone or anything other than alhaitham ๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐

does this have to do with the fact that both my current projects heavily pull from my family home life & relationship with my father, who is currently getting worse and worse in the hospital and i am instead looking for a way to escape into my own fantasy world????? yes, probably.

[running-with-the-feels]

I love your Ainu Hanzo and how proud he is of his ancestry. Kind of ironic that his adopted son, as proud as Takeda is of his Thai roots, is also a direct descendant of a samurai clan that most likely helped orchestrate his people’s oppression. Then again, Hanzo does seem to have a habit of making friends with his historical enemies.

Anyway, just food for angst. Love you. Kisses 😘

DISCLAIMER! I am not indigenous in any way shape or form, if any part of the rambling below is inaccurate/harmful/problematic in some way, please point it out to me so that I can educate myself accordingly and avoid repeating that mistake in the future. Further, please take everything I say with a grain of salt, as again, I am not indigenous and thus my interpretation of this situation is likely flawed and should come secondary to the opinions of indigenous (and specifically Ainu) people.

Honestly, I get the sense that it would upset Takeda more than Hanzo. Or, well, I suppose it's less that Takeda would be more upset about it than it is that Hanzo has had time to learn how to navigate the complexity of that situation and Takeda would be getting tossed into the deep end.

Bc like, Hanzo has been living in Japan his entire life and was part of a Japanese ninja clan which was implied to be Very traditional. So he's already had years to grapple with being close to people whose ancestors were involved in the colonization and attempted eradication of his people. For all that Hanzo doesn't seem very fond of seeing the world in shades of grey, I think he would have grappled with the nuance of the situation long before Takeda ever got involved.

(Also, lets not forget that Hanzo is also a Japanese citizen who is made to work with members of the US military and potentially friends with the special forces characters though that isn't super clear. Mk9 takes place in 1992 as well, and while Hanzo's age is never confirmed, he was old enough to have a wife and child, so while he was likely not alive during the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, he was probably born very soon afterwards. So Hanzo is not a stranger to relationships made incredibly complicated due to atrocities committed by people they are connected to)

Don't get me wrong, Hanzo's still plenty angry about the situation as a whole, and god help you if he hears you badmouthing his ancestors or his culture in any capacity, but there is a level of complexity to the situation that he has already found a way to reconcile.

For Takeda, on the other hand, he likely had no idea who the Ainu even were before he came into Hanzo's care, much less what his ancestors did to them. And given the fact that that history is on his Father's side of the family, and Takeda refused to even mention that Kenshi existed for Years, it probably took a while for Takeda to find out about it. So he ends up sort of punched in the gut by the information.

Hanzo likely raised him to be the kind of person who takes accountability for that and does what he can to make amends and reparations, which I think is an attitude that Hanzo likely instills in the Shirai Ryu as a whole, both due to the fact that he is Ainu, and the fact that he himself has done some pretty terrible (Though obviously not colonizer terrible) things. Hanzo is very much of the opinion that since mistakes cannot be undone, effort should always be put towards trying to to better and making what amends one can, even if the mistake wasn't yours originally.

That being said, I don't think that Hanzo would be of the opinion that people aren't responsible for what their ancestors did, I think he would very much hold to the idea that if your ancestors committed atrocities, you have a responsibility to try and make reparations for that, and that process should be guided by the community that was wronged.

This is a very long tangent but basically it boils down to "Reparations to indigenous communities are very necessary and while those descended from the original perpetrators of the crimes done to them are not technically at fault, they are responsible for the system that was constructed which they now benefit from and which still harms indigenous communities to this day. Further, relationships between indigenous communities and the colonizers/their descendants are incredibly complicated on both a group and an individual scale"

[knockyasocksoff2022]

Through Glass Walls | Soukoku

~

He sighs, leaning his head on my shoulder. "If I asked you to . . . Would you run away with me?"

"Yes."

~

Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya are in love.

Dazai convinces Chuuya to sneak out one day and takes him to the beautiful small town of Ihatovo. Chuuya is sure this is the best night of his life and Dazai agrees until he passes out and has to be taken to the hospital.

The doctors won't tell Chuuya what happened. That's the last time he sees Dazai.

~ 15 years Later ~

DAZAI OSAMU: has been hidden from the worldever since the indcident at age 15, by his aunt and father. But he's done with that! Against their orders and probably good sense he moves to the small town of Ihatovo to live a life he can enjoy. This includes reading depressing novels, attempting suicide, playing his violin, and eating more snow crab than anyone should. It does NOT include a certain ginger with an intense passion for life.

NAKAHARA CHUYA: now a doctor who left his stressful life in Tokyo behind for something more relaxing. Ihatovo was just supposed to be a stop on his journey but the familiar face of his old classmate or rather enemy Dazai Osamu draws him to the quaint little town. Chuya hates Dazai, because he left him. Dazai just disappeared and never spoke to him again. If he saw Dazai on the street he'd just walk right by.

He can't ignore his curiosity over what happened to his old love, but is it more than just curiosity?

He should at least make amends since he's here, right?

~

When Chuya opens up his medical practice Dazai becomes his most frequent patient. He comes in with everything from small coughs to suspiciously even cuts. Chuya wonders about his ex-classmate and as the two grow closer things are bound to get interesting.

(A/N: This is the fic mentioned in this post)

[tarnishedxknight]

[ Wounds That Refuse To Heal ]

“I see…” Mantis nodded when Ashelia told her how intolerant she had been since childhood, though the expression on Mantis’ face was gentle and pensive. “You see, I do not judge simply because I do not have the right to do so. I have done bad things and helped someone I shouldn’t have helped. For a really long time, I was loyal to them… until I met my friends. It is never too late to change and grow,” she said, offering a warm smile.

Ashelia’s reaction to Mantis growing the shooting stars was highly endearing, and Mantis was happy she liked them so much. “Well…” Mantis reached out to touch the purple petals when Basch asked if growing flowers made her tired. “Not exactly, it’s as if they liked me very much.” Seeing that Basch and Ashelia were distracted speaking about Noah, Mantis plucked one of the dangling shooting stars from the clusters and popped it into her mouth, closing her eyes as she chewed happily.

When Ashelia said that maybe Noah would listen to Mantis because he respected her, Mantis pulled her knees closer, wrapping her arms around them. “Do you really think so? I do not know, I didn’t want to read him for too long. I agree with Basch, he probably needs space. Everyone does sometimes.” However, when Ashelia said she wanted Basch and Noah to reconcile, Mantis nodded. “I agree with that, too.” She didn’t want Basch and Noah to end up like Gamora and Nebula, or Thor and Loki. Two brothers and two sisters, finally ready to make amends, only to have to say goodbye.

When Basch asked Mantis what her favorite flower was, she smiled. “They’re all so beautiful! How could I choose only one? They all have such pretty colors.” She shrugged. “But if I had to choose a plant, it would be the four-leaf clover. They seem to understand loneliness better than most plants, yet they remain a symbol of hope and luck.”

__________

{ Mantisssssss, comin’ at my heart with the feels! That’s exactly what happened to Basch and Noah, heh. Finally, after twenty years, they were ready to reconcile... and Noah died. I will never not cry about that because ouch. It’s like oh, Mantis... if you only knew. XD }

Ashe nodded at Mantis’ wise words. That she needed to be more tolerant, forgiving, less impulsive, and less hotheaded was already known to her. In the heat of the moment, however, she always found it hard to show restraint. “I... have been attempting to be more tolerant of late. The past two years of my life have afforded me both freedom and experience with which to see the world through different eyes. I have stepped outside my sheltered upbringing, and I have tried to be more understanding of those whose lives and fortunes were vastly different from my own. And yet... the one person I find it impossible to forgive... is the man who murdered my father. I know it is childish to hold onto grudges so far buried in time, but there are some things I feel I cannot forgive.”

“I want to forgive Gabranth, even if only for Basch’s sake, for I know how close and strong the bond between twins can be. Two of my own brothers were twins, you see, those closest in age to myself. The war... took them both... and all I can say about that is that it was merciful for them both to be taken at once, rather than to have one live without the other.” She sighed and closed her eyes briefly, out of remembrance for the dead. “But Basch and Gabranth... are so very different from my brothers. They do not seem to have a strong bond with each other. Nevertheless, I know he is important to Basch, and so I must continue to try and accept him. Basch seems to have infinite patience for him. And for everybody. I will strive to do as you say, to change and grow. I know it is possible, even if it takes time.”

Basch crossed his legs, getting more comfortable on the ground as he smiled softly at the flowers Mantis had created. As the conversation drifted to Noah, however, Basch did his best to inform Ashelia but also teach her as well. Although she was considered a woman grown by Dalmascan standards, her life experience was still very much that a of a child, thanks to the extremely sheltered upbringing her father imposed upon her. Whenever Basch had an opportunity to expand Ashelia’s mind, to give her food for thought and the tools to think critically and make her own decisions, he did so. “There is much about my brother’s own upbringing that you do not know, princess. I feel it is not my story to tell, but know that anger has long been a way for him to carry on among those who might seek to treat him poorly. Just as arrogance and intolerance have been unwanted results of your own upbringing, so too have anger and defensiveness been that of Noah’s own.”

Ashe listened to Basch, frowning in thought but saying nothing. She supposed that she really didn’t know Noah much at all, and that she ought not to judge. And yet... She looked down at the flowers, though her smile had left her. “That still does not make the callous murder of a man in his eighth decade acceptable or morally upstanding,” she insisted, thinking of her father. “But... I will think on your words and take them to heart as much as I can.”

Basch nodded. “Thank you, princess. That is all I ask,” he said with his usual gentle grace and humility. 

Sighing, Ashelia nodded as well. “Yes, perhaps you are right, Mantis. If his brother thrives on anger most oft, then he likely has need to take time to calm himself more so than the rest of us might.”

When Mantis said she agreed with the idea of him and Noah reconciling, Basch’s gaze lowered a bit. “I doubt he will ever allow that. There is too much pain there for him to come to terms with. He has good reason for his anger, I assure you.”

“What happened between the two of you?” Ashe asked, unable to keep her curiosity at bay.

Basch was quiet as he thought over the question, but instead of answering, he shook his head. “Forgive me, but I prefer not to allow myself the release and comfort it would be to tell another of my misdeeds regarding my family.”

“Why?” Ashelia asked, her gaze turning sad.

“Because I have set a path to atonement for myself, and it does not involve me sharing my pain with others. That would be a comfort of which I am wholly undeserving. A comfort I denied Noah years ago.” That was all he said, and then he looked up with an air of finality, as if the subject were dropped entirely.

Ashe knew that look, and so she pressed him no further. Perhaps later she would try again, but not now. However, she did offer him one more thing. “You can tell me anything, Basch. I just... want you to know that.”

“Thank you, my lady. That means much to me,” he said.

The conversation turned back to flowers and other plants, and Ashe canted her head at Mantis choice of favorite plant... and why. “They understand loneliness? Why do you say that?”

“Because they are rare, and so they must not oft encounter others like themselves. Is that what you mean, Mantis?” Basch asked.

“Clovers with four leaves are rare? What is the customary number of leaves they are to have?” Ashe inquired rather innocently. She was not used to seeing clovers at all.

“Three, highness,” Basch answered. “Four is far rarer.”

“Can plants feel loneliness, Mantis?” she asked. “I was unaware they had that level of sentience.”

[jadelotusflower]

Robin Hood Rewatch: 3x11 - The Enemy of my Enemy

We’re in the endgame now.

Robin and Guy ride horses through the forest to a vibrant drum beat, and Robin demands to know if he can trust Guy before he’ll take him to the camp. Guy says he can, but can’t ask him to forgive Robin’s father, which is RICH.

Robin says if they’re going to work together they “have to leave that behind.” Guy retorts “that’s easy for you to say” and reader, I know I’m harping on a theme here, but the AUDACITY.

But it does the job, because they fight and we get what we were so cruelly deprived of last episode. I know it’s shallow, but I honestly never get tired of these two men pummeling each other and trading barbs.

Allan sees them, and rushes back to camp to get the others. Kate and John are sharpening a sword to make sure we get a nice pan up over her cleavage. Yeah, I see you director Graeme Harper. You ain’t slick.

However, I do like the detail of the day to day in the camp - Allan was gathering wood, Much appears to be sewing, Tuck is cleaning his sword.

“You kill my wife, and you expect forgiveness?” So we get to the meat of it, although I am annoyed by Robin’s possessive “my wife” here, to which Guy counters “I loved her as you loved her” - they’re still fighting over Marian, each trying to exert their claim to her instead of actually acknowledging her as her own person.

This should have been an important part of them reconciling her death within themselves and each other, but because we have stupid secret baby plot instead, it will never be addressed.

Guy admits that he’ll never ask for Robin’s forgiveness, because he can’t forgive himself.

The gang arrive; Much shoots at Guy, Robin pushes him out of the way, Tuck pins him to the ground and Kate is ready to kill him - she’s literally about to stab him right through the face!

Robin tells her not to, she yells that he killed her brother. He says Guy is one of them, and that sure was quick. But as articulated last episode, at this point Robin’s main gripe is that he showed no remorse for killing Marian, which he does display here.

Kate screams and stabs the ground next to Guy’s head, and honestly I don’t mind this. Her frustrated fury at Guy is far more justified than her irrational hatred of Isabella, even if she does go from zero to attempted murder pretty quickly.

Back at camp, John is similarly enraged at the thought of accepting Guy, and there’s quite a hilarious shot of John declaring he’ll never be one of them as Guy appears over his shoulder in the background.

Robin presents Guy killing Vaisey as credentials, but again I wonder who they thought killed him before this?

Allan is giving some very interesting reactions in the background - notably not giving any opinions. I don’t think Guy and Allan ever actually interact do they? Another missed opportunity.

Much is in disbelief about Malcolm being alive and Robin and Guy sharing a brother, probably wondering - as I do - where he was during the flashback.

When Robin tells them about Archer, Much throws an incredulous look back at Allan that I like - bring back their friendship!

Kate points out there was no one to save her brother from execution, and it’s a valid point - Guy joining forces with them doesn’t wash away all the terrible things he’s done, including trying to kill each and every one of them at some point.

Look, I don’t like Kate, but for Guy to be unbothered about killing her brother and basically be like it or lump it, is pretty cruel. But in character, I suppose.

It occurs to me that Guy doesn’t get so much a redemption arc as a...neutrality arc? He’s not seeking to make amends or atone for his terrible deeds, he’s not even apologetic for them (save Marian), he’s not trying to do good. His purposes - rescuing Archer and overthrowing Isabella - have merely aligned with Robin’s so they are working together, and it never really moves much beyond this. We never really get to see Guy reckon with himself, which is a vital part of any redemption arc for me.

John just fuming in the background in this mirror shot of earlier is great however, kudos Gordan Kennedy, top notch acting this episode after a season of nothing to do.

Allan finally gets the courage to speak up with some careful support for Guy, which Kate cuts off by saying he’s pure evil and appealing to Robin. And lol, he almost rolls his eyes.

When Tuck asks, Robin can conveniently argue they need Archer because of his knowledge of “weapons from the East” and was that information in the last episode? I was so busy fuming at Malcolm maybe I missed him deliver some exposition.

Robin’s body language has been interesting this scene though - everyone is standing up - Allan leaning against the camp not wanting to put himself in it, Much constantly moving around, Guy and John milling over each other’s shoulders, Tuck, still by Robin ready to go along with whatever the plan is, Kate fuming and stomping in between Robin and Guy. But Robin is sitting - with his arm casually thrown over the rope ladder because he’s comfortable in his decision and isn’t going to be swayed, but it’s an affected leisure, because he’s still a mass of tightly wound tension held in check.

This is my reaction when Kate speaks too.

But when the gang disperses, Robin is rather tender with Kate but honestly it feels like how someone would comfort/placate a child - even the kiss is barely there and the whole interaction feels more like duty on Robin’s part than anything else.

The halt in the narrative last episode means this is the first interaction we’ve had of Robin and Kate as a couple - if you could call them that. And Robin runs off to York for the episode, then we have the two part finale. It’s just so undercooked and I wonder why they even bothered if they weren’t going to actually do anything with this relationship.

It also (lazily) skips over the Much issue, and I don’t think his crush is ever mentioned again?

They don’t even bond over Guy killing people they loved! Does Kate even know about Marian at this point? It would have been better to have this be a conflict between them, perhaps for Kate to accuse Robin of betraying her memory by working with Guy, but she wasn’t going to betray her brother’s. She could have run home to her mother for the episode leaving Robin to really work through his feelings with Guy rather than sublimate his grief because “the enemy of the enemy is my friend.”

But internalising is what Robin does best, so he pats Kate on the head and leaves as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile, in Nottingham, Isabella has a handsome new henchman, who brings her some guy who collects the toll on the road to York, and pays him to tell her if he sees the outlaws.

Later, Robin and Guy rob the tollgate - that sure was convenient plotting!

In York, Archer is in bed with Gweneth the Sheriff’s wife. I think this is as “sexy” (I use the term loosely) as the show has ever gotten, and of course it is to introduce us to our bright shiny new character.

Apparently he’s in prison for not delivering the weapons he promised to the Sheriff of York’s cousin, and is manipulating Gwen to try and (ahem) get off. The con has something to do with alchemy, but I really don’t care about this subplot.

He brings food back to his fellow prisoners, and is particular friends with an old man, so we know he has a Heart of Gold [insert alchemy pun here].

Isabella is incredulous Guy and Robin are working together, and sends Henchman to offer a reward for the Sheriff of York to send them back to her alive. She’s made a classic Bond villain mistake - if she’d just wanted them dead she would have saved herself a lot of trouble.

Tuck is keen on the propaganda value of Guy joining their side, but John is not only unconvinced, he’s angry and wants Gisborne punished for his crimes.

However John doesn’t mention Marian either, which strikes me as wrong - it would make sense that John is partly so unforgiving because of Marian, whom he was so fatherly towards.

But I guess he has a new surrogate daughter, because he invokes Matthew’s death, and Kate says she’s prepared to trust Robin’s judgement. John leaves, dropping his quarterstaff.

Archer cons the Sheriff of York with an unconvincing slight to hand to exchange a nail for a nugget of gold.

He then tries to escape, Gwen hides him in her room and they make out some more. The Sheriff catches them and orders them both executed, so Archer says that he forced her to save her life. This is meant to make him seem gallant, but is really the least he could do since it costs him nothing and he was about to drop Gwen like a hot potato.

We get a nice scene between John and Allan, the gang finally get some screen time! Allan tries to convince him to come back, but is told to go away.

How cute is the height difference! Okay, Mr Harper, you’ve actually made some good directorial choices this episode. I forgive you.

Isabella and her guards arrive and capture John.

We get a cgi pan of the city of York with a jaunty theme as Robin and Guy walk through the market and then reconnoiter in a tavern.

A brawl breaks out, and Robin suggests Guy get himself captured so they can find Archer in the dungeons and Robin will spring them both.

Guy is reluctant, thinking Robin will leave him in the dungeon, and there’s actually a vulnerability as he says this that that I quite like? Robin offers to be the one to get arrested, and their back and forth is really quite good - Jonas Armstrong and Richard Armitage play off each other really well, so even if the dynamic at this point isn’t quite earned, they still absolutely sell it.

Robin throws bread at a guard, but because Guy smirks they think he was the one who didn’t and he gets arrested after all, much to Robin’s delight.

John and Allan pantomime to each other and then kill the guards. This season has just been a massacre for these poor guys, hasn’t it?

John asks what Allan was thinking taking them on with no weapons - Allan: “I had no choice. I’m your family, right?” and this makes me so sad knowing what happens in the next episode.

There could be a great story here about the family you choose rather than the family that’s an accident of birth, but any strides towards that are undone by the next two episodes.

But it’s moments like that that the show has been sorely missing  - there’s been so little camaraderie with the gang because all the time has been taken up by the Kate/Robin/Isabella drama, and it’s partly why this season feels so soulless.

Allan is so happy to get horses, but John says they have to go camp and get the others. Um...horses will get you to the camp quicker, guys.

They arrive, and Much claps for their return which is rather cute, but then immediately springs to action when he hears Robin’s in trouble.

Allan gives John back his quarterstaff which is another nice little beat.

Guy is thrown in the dungeon and finds Archer, who immediately clocks that Guy is a noble and gets dollar signs in his eyes.

Robin sees a rich dude from whom to take money and a nice coat, but appears to be eating something (a nut?) and spits out part of it (the shell?) - it’s just an odd little bit.

He affects a posh voice and bribes the Sheriff. I do love it when Jonas brings an accent.

The Sheriff of York does have quite a nice costume himself, with blue and orange detailing to match his sigil colours. I’ve just realised that perhaps the red detail in Guy’s costume earlier this season was to match Prince John’s men who wore black and red. Huh. Isabella also has a red lining on her cape this episode and inside her lapels, so that tracks.

Henchman arrives to tell York about Robin and Guy.

Robin immediately projects brotherly love on Archer, and there’s a mildly funny little bit with bribing the guard (“you have a missus, alright” is a nice line reading), and then punching him out when he won’t cooperate.

Archer make a big moral stand that he won’t go without the other prisoners, and Robin shrugs, says “fine” and throws the keys back into the cell, which I also found pretty amusing.

The gang ambush Isabella and her guards, Kate fires an arrow and Isabella deflects it with her sword, and I’m sorry how can this show expect me to root against Isabella when she is such a badass?

Kate’s ott hatred of Isabella continues, she has to be physically restrained by Tuck - but why? They hang back and let Isabella run instead of capturing her? It’s five against one, chase after her!

Archer asks Guy what is the point of being a noble-turned-outlaw with no money, and when the guards attack shows off his super skillz with high kicks and flipping his sword around and ugggh I hate him already.

He asks if Robin has any money. Robin, exasperated: “No I don’t. I gave up all my family’s wealth to help the poor.”

Archer throws around some judgement at the people who have just saved his life at great risk to themselves: “There’s no honour in being poor, and no shame in it. If you’d grown up with nothing you’d know that.” I mean Archer has literally just met Robin and Guy and just assumed they’ve led lives of comfort. Guy has the appropriate reaction, which is to tell Archer he doesn’t know what he’s been through.

More guards attack, and shoot the old man Archer is friends with.

They are cornered in the great hall, and Archer puts a knife to Robin’s throat, telling him to play along since Henchman wants him alive to take back to Isabella. He wants to know why she wants Guy too, and Robin tells him she’s his sister. Which is a mistake, because it makes him switch sides and offers Robin to York for his own life.

“I have a sister who is the Sheriff of Nottingham. She’s rich, she’s powerful, and she hates you. This really isn’t taking me a lot of thought.”

Gwen holding onto her wine through all this is a mood.

However York double-crosses Archer, planning to execute them all and send Guy and Robin’s bodies back to Isabella.

Guy: “Well I’m certainly glad I came to rescue my brother, aren’t you.” LOL. I’m enjoying Guy’s snark.

Archer is unrepentant, saying he didn’t ask them to come, instead of saying don’t worry, Gwen has bribed someone to cause a distraction, so be ready.

Because that’s exactly what happens, but Guy still has the noose around his neck so can’t jump off his horse like Archer and Robin. But they both make the shot to release him, because not only can Archer swordfight as well as Robin, he can shoot as well as Robin too! How good a replacement would be be for Robin if circumstances somehow warranted that! Seriously show, be less transparent.

Guy sees John is in trouble and goes to help him in a moment I really like, because it does show genuine growth.

Henchman appears, ready to kill Archer if he doesn’t tell him where Guy and Robin are, Robin shoots him. RIP Henchman, I actually would have liked him to stick around, he seemed genuinely loyal to Isabella.

Robin introduces Archer to “his family” - aww. He wants Archer to join them, Guy wants Archer’s weapons, who says they are for sale, but his plans don’t include anyone else. Not so much as a thank you for saving his life, huh.

Gwen pleads with Archer to take her with him, and he kisses her, then abandons her to the consequences of his escape from her irate husband. What a prince!

York delivers Henchman’s body to Isabella, and tells her to keep a tighter rein on her affairs. She is incensed and snaps the arrow that killed Henchman.

I would just like to point out that Isabella hasn’t actually done anything wrong as Sheriff. She killed Thornton in self-defence, and then ordered his men killed, but given they were enforcing Thornton’s abuse I don’t think we can blame her. Earlier in the episode Robin insisted the gang couldn’t come to York so they could stay to protect the people from Isabella - but from what? Nothing has been said of her subjugating the people, or any kind of cruelty. The worst that can be attributed to her is responsibility for Meg’s death, but how many deaths have the gang been indirectly responsible for? Even in this episode, she does nothing more than try to have Guy and Robin captured - there’s just a real disconnect between Evil Isabella and what is actually on screen.

Back at camp, Robin very tenderly holds Kate’s hand, and finally we get to it:

“Gisborne killed your brother. He killed Marian. I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love. But revenge, it burns your soul, it can destroy you. We have to look forward. I need you to accept him - we both need to accept him.”

So Kate must know about Marian, and I appreciate that Robin does call her Marian here and not “my wife” to complement “your brother” - it signifies the importance of the conversation to Robin.

However I don’t think Kate actually takes in anything he’s saying - on the one hand it is a big ask of Robin to expect her to put aside her hatred of Guy when he has done nothing to address the pain he caused her, and Robin is big projecting here, wanting Kate to accept Guy so he can feel better about doing the same.

There’s a gulf between how Robin and Kate are dealing with their grief - for Robin he bottles it up and pushes it down so it doesn’t overwhelm him, for Kate it’s right there under the surface and pushes her to frequent rage.

Really, this should have been a scene of Guy approaching Kate and dealing with it head-on rather than Robin having to basically force her into living alongside a man who killed her brother.

But the conversation itself is just so thin - putting aside your dreams of revenge on hold because your boyfriend asked you to is not the same as coming to the conclusion yourself that killing the person will not ease your pain.

Kate says she’ll accept him, but can never trust him.

Guy: “So where do you want me to sleep then?” The gang:

I quite like the uncertainly of this - Guy feels out of place, in a position with no power, among those he’s hunted for years. His altering dynamic with the individual members of the gang could be so interesting, I just wish there was time to explore it.

Back at the toll gate, Archer asks if it is the road to Nottingham, refuses to pay the toll and instead leaps over the gate on his horse.

Other than Archer, I didn’t actually mind this episode - Robin and Guy as frenemies really works for me (I just wish there was a better foundation for it), the Allan and John stuff was good (even if I wanted more), and there were moments of levity after last weeks dour proceedings. But we’re at a quick clip to the end of the show with no room to breathe, and everything that is interesting to me from a character perspective is just glossed over.

Incidentally, I did once write two chapters of a Marian returns fic sets after this episode that I have been inspired to go back and try to finish (and use it as an outlet to try and fix so many of the things that have annoyed me this season). So watch out for that, if it’s of interest to you.

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Raven Haired Rebel

Prologue

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which Loki decides to forge his own path. Chapter Warnings: none :) A/N: Welcome to the start of my new mini series! The idea came from the Send Me a Fic Title ask game. This was a title sent in by @lokistan​! Hope you enjoy!

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​ @fallinallinmendes​ @sophlubbwriting​ @mooncat163​ 

RHR Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake​ @electroma89​ @stardust-walker​ @i-would-kneel-for-loki​

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki wondered what his cell on Asgard would look like, for surely he’d be transferred there any day now. For three days now, he’d been held in the belly of a SHIELD base in these ridiculous cuffs. Tony had, at least, sent down that drink Loki had asked for. Whether it was a taunt or a small bit of kindness, Loki honestly wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d downed it in one gulp; Midgardian alcohol never having a strong effect on him. Honestly, he probably should have been concerned if it was poisoned or not. Then again, after everything he’d been through, what did he care?

“Brother,” Loki greeted Thor as he walked into view. “How lovely of you to finally grace me with your presence. Though I take it this is not a leisure visit, hm?”

“You know full well it is not,” the God of Thunder replied with a stern tone.

“And here I was so hoping we could catch up.”

“If you want to talk, then talk, Loki. Explain yourself. What has transpired that you have attacked so many innocent people in this way?”

Loki wanted to laugh at that. Innocent? Who was Thor to talk of innocent with all the unrighteous battles he’d fought, all the blood spilled by his hands? The God of Mischief had done what? Attacked a military base? Made a few people kneel? Corralled a few groups into buildings? Which really was for the own safety so they wouldn’t be in the way of the battles on the streets. But no; conquest was apparently only just when Odin decided to do it. When Thor wanted to follow in his footsteps. But for Loki, there was a whole other set of rules. Of course, no one ever bothered to outline them for the trickster, just let him know he failed to obey them.

Besides, he hadn’t been in his right mind. Rather, he’d been under the mind stone’s influence, under Thanos’s control. He worked his jaw as he tried to figure out whether to say that or not. If he had any sense of self preservation, he probably would have. Yet after living his whole life being told he was weak, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Whether Asgardian culture, his family, or he himself were to blame for that, he wasn’t sure. Still, best just to stick with his wit.

“Pardon, brother,” Loki finally replied. “If it bothers you that much, I will stop following your example.”

“You dare insinuate I would do such a thing?” Thor rhetorically asked, appalled and shocked now that his honor was called into question. “Truly, brother, your mind is far more twisted than I had imagined. I see now I should not have advocated for you; you are too far gone. And yet, I already have, so your second chance you shall have.”

“How benevolent,” Loki rolled his eyes.

In reality, Loki was actually kind of touched Thor had spoken on his behalf. It was more than he expected from the blonde. Though, he had a feeling he hadn’t been spoken of in the most flattering light. Regardless, Thor opened his cell and, accompanied by a couple agents, led him to the upper floors of of the base.

The light blinded Loki for a minute as he saw sunlight for the first time since he’d been locked up. The glares passing agents gave him did significantly less to burn him, though. He was used to scorn. Of course, he did feel a wave of regret as he realized he’d probably killed some of their colleagues, their friends. Even if he didn’t have control of himself, he’d still done it. Why did he have to be so weak as to let Thanos gain control of his mind, he wondered? Such horrid deeds had never been in his nature before, though it seemed Thor was ready to believe he’d been evil all along.

The brothers were silent the whole way to Fury’s office, even as they waited for the director to come in. From his seat in front of the desk, Loki surveyed the office. Nice enough, he mused, but could use some more color. Maybe some drapes. Loki wondered if he should laugh that that’s what he was thinking. Though, in all honesty, it might be a chuckle of relief, knowing that his thoughts were finally his own again.

When the director did finally walk in, he and Loki just eyed each other for a moment, sizing the other up. Loki was fairly confident he could get out of this room, out of this base, if he really wanted to. But what was even the point? He wasn’t particularly interested in playing a game of cat and mouse, as SHIELD would try desperately to recover him. No, he’d rather take whatever punishment was about to be doled out. At least for now, anyway.

“Well, thank you for having me,” Loki quipped, being the first to break the silence. “I am afraid I have never been much good at small talk, though. How about that weather?”

“Funny,” Fury deadpanned. “Glad you didn’t lose your sense of humor when you killed my men.”

Loki’s smile faltered ever so slightly. It seemed like people were going to keep bringing that up despite that it had not even been his intention to kill anyone. Injure and temporarily dispose of, sure, but not kill. He supposed that having been on the verge of collapse himself, he wasn’t able to be as precise as he usually was.

“That little stunt you pulled should have you locked up for life,” Fury continued before Loki could respond. “However, we are prepared to offer you a deal. You are going to work for SHIELD to make up for your crimes.”

“Ah. I see. So gracious of you. And my other options are?”

“You come with me back to Asgard,” Thor chimed in, “and father can do whatever he wants with you.”

Well, that created three possible paths, really, Loki figured. Be sent to Asgard and locked up there was option one. Then the second was to be sent back and killed. Was it bad he kind of hoped for the latter? Oh, it definitely was. Yet, that’s how he felt. And then he could stay here, play along until the opportunity came to break free. Live his life as he wanted for once.

“Alright,” Loki agreed with a smile that he was sure would be seen as more untrustworthy than anything else. “When do I begin?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week of tedious lectures later, Loki was out in the field. He’d listened with rapt attention as he’d undergone his brief training. And somehow they deemed him trustworthy enough to send on a mission already. So, here he was in a Quinjet with his fellow agents. Maybe they didn’t entirely trust him. After all, Clint kept eyeing him with something akin to murder in his gaze.

Still, once they touched down, Loki followed the procedures he’d been taught. Thankfully, they hadn’t trusted him with any of the more important jobs, just securing the perimeter. That, of course, was a mistake on their part. As soon as it was time to break apart from the others, Loki created a double of himself. Meanwhile, he causally strutted over to a nearby motorcycle. Ok, he had to admit he didn’t really know how to ride one, but he’d make do.

Loki’s drive was surprisingly smooth as he escaped his would-be employers. The joke was on them for trying to tie him down, he thought. It was actually rather freeing to be racing along the open road, wind in his raven-black hair. Maybe he could find a nice little secluded home somewhere and live the rest of his days out in peace. And then he saw a burning building. Really, he should just keep going. You Midgardians had forces to deal with this. And yet, something made him pull over and rush inside, saving those he found trapped by the flames.

“I can never thank you enough,” a lady blubbered as she clung to her child, who Loki had just saved. “Please, what’s your name? How can I repay you?”

“You can call me, Loki,” he replied with a charming grin. “And really, no thanks necessary. It is just what I do.”

And as he rode off again, Loki decided he was going to make that last statement true. Look out, Midgard, he thought to himself. Looks like you have got yourself a new superhero.

[indecisive-behaviors]

Originally I was just going to add this as a reblog to my previous post about the parking lot scene in KK2 but it’s almost 2k words so now it’s getting it’s own post. Be forewarned- this is fucking long.

TW for discussion of PTSD, child abuse, neglect, injury, and death, in relation to topics surrounding the show, under the cut-

Obviously, Cobra Kai is a show based around the premise of “what happened to that Lawrence kid after he got kicked in the face?”, which is honestly a pretty cool idea for a show. Johnny’s story is never explained past sitting on the sidewalk with his head in his hands at the tournament, and there are no real context clue’s to figure out what may or may not have happened.

In the show we get to learn early on that Johnny’s life spiraled after the tournament, going from bad to worse to “holy shit how are you still alive”-dropping out/never going to college, working jobs he seems to hate, becoming an alcoholic, presumably many dead end relationships, and not being there for his kid. And yeah, obviously, this would be a hard pill to swallow for anyone watching the show if Johnny had just lost the tournament. If we never got the scene in KK2, he would have just been some kid who lost a tournament- we see at the end of the first movie that(through tears holy shit Billy) that Johnny is the one who gives the trophy to Daniel with his famous line, “You’re alright, LaRusso.” There’s a level of grudging respect in that moment that isn’t lost on anyone who sees that movie- that Johnny, who throughout the movie only sees Daniel as some whimpy kid, gets proven wrong and respects that. If we didn’t have that scene, there’s reason to believe Johnny would have apologized, tried to make amends, Something, even if it was just being less of a dick at school.

But then, we get the parking lot. We get a far off shot, intended to distance you from the scene, framed over Daniel’s shoulder. This makes sense, Daniel is the main character, the protagonist, the underdog hero- why wouldn’t it be framed in his perspective? But the scene is about Johnny. We get the shouting match, the back and forth- “No, you’re the loser man.”- and again it’s fairly obvious how Johnny sees this situation. This is a man who we assume(and is later confirmed) to be a surrogate father figure, who set his friend up for failure, and then basically forced him to do the same by targeting an injured opponent, and forcing him to fight without honor. This same man presumably follows a teenager out to the parking lot, to harass him, to tell him he’s off the team, to tell him he’s a loser, that he’s nothing.

But at that point, Johnny knows the truth, even if subconsciously. At the end of the day Johnny knows that Daniel LaRusso was a worthy opponent, and that regardless of the cheating and manipulation, Daniel could have won anyway, and did win, despite of it.

And then Kreese grabs him, too fast to react to, Johnny too surprised even knowing that Kreese is the bad guy here, not believing that he would ever willingly hurt him- and Johnny isn’t strong enough to fight him off, none of the boys are, so Johnny is forced to suffocate for almost a full 30 seconds(which I double checked for the record- also as a reference, 30 seconds is about the average time it takes for a person voluntarily holding their breath to pass out- this does not account for the oxygen lost during a struggle, and the lack of preparation from both surprise and panic. The only silver lining here is the fact that Kreese was most likely compressing his windpipe, not his jugular, which would have made him pass out in about 5-10 seconds, and would have caused permanent brain damage or death in about 15).

Now, PTSD is a complex thing. I’m not a psychiatrist, and what small amount of information we have is all we have to work off of, but I feel fairly comfortable in saying Johnny mostly likely developed it after the incident. This not an uncommon take in the fandom as far as I’m aware either. But, if we assume this, we also have to assume that after the fact nothing would have been done about this. Not just in the sense that we still don’t really know everything that happened right after the tournament, but that in the early 80s, PTSD wasn’t really a thing yet.

Sure it was absolutely a condition that existed, but Post Traumatic Stress Disorder wasn’t even added to the DSM-III until 1980- and for a long time afterward, was only seen as a condition that affected primarily war vets. Even after an event as traumatic as having a man you considered a father trying to kill you, in public, without remorse, would not have been seen as something to warrant the diagnoses, let alone treatment.

Johnny Lawrence was 17 when Kreese tried to kill him, and this boy would have been offered no resources beyond filing charges with the police. And as we see in KK3, either this didn’t happen either, or someone(presumably Silver) got the charges dropped. So on top of almost being murdered, Johnny had to live with the fact that the man who did that to him was still out there, and to top it off, still ran a dojo at least for a few months after the event. The only relief he could have gotten is after Kreese faked his death.

And sure, Mr Miyagi may have gotten Kreese to let go eventually, but as several people have pointed out in comments and tags, left him and the other boys alone with Kreese still standing there in the parking lot and just... drove off. Kreese has already been established to be a psycho with no problem hurting children, a little bit of glass might not have prevented him from trying again.

So why did I talk about all of that? Because it all contributes to why Daniel LaRusso works as a credible antagonist in season 1 of Cobra Kai.

Think about this- Johnny blames losing everything on Daniel in season 1, but we specifically get a shot in KK1 and later KK2(”You’re alright, LaRusso” and “I did my best” come to mind) where he seems to be at least mostly accepting of the fact that he lost(with what was actually an illegal kick but that’s a rant for another time). So why does he blame him for everything 30 years later?

Because 30 years later, Johnny is forced to go outside, go to work, and pretend like he doesn’t see what feels like every street corner(including right outside his apartment mind you), a literal billboard sized reminder of what happened to him.

The rest of this is mostly speculation but it makes sense in my head so bear with me.

When we get introduced to Robby, it’s made pretty clear that Johnny has not been in his life for a bit. In season 2 we get Johnny’s heart to heart with Miguel, where he divulges that he missed the birth, because he spiraled after his mom’s death. This however doesn’t suggest that he stayed gone, especially knowing that it wasn’t long enough for Robby to not consider seeking out his dad. Because tacked up to the fridge, is a picture of Robby in his soccer uniform as a kid. It’s an early detail you can see in previous episodes, and says a lot about how Robby grew up. To be fair, this could have been given to him by Shannon, and not taken himself, but it’s the sport Robby’s playing that makes me question this. KK1 dedicates an entire scene to Johnny being on the soccer team in high school. Soccer, while maybe not as important to him as karate, is still part of his character. Robby does not know karate in season 1, Johnny obviously didn’t share it with him, but that doesn’t mean Johnny didn’t share anything with him.

So Johnny’s back in his kids life, maybe doing better for himself, maybe cutting back on the drinking. LaRusso Auto is already established to exist at this point but it’s in Encino, a place Johnny has no reason to go to, and probably doesn’t want to. He’s trying again and things are okay. But Robby knows enough about Daniel to know that going to him will piss off his dad. So Johnny had to have talked about him at some point. The billboards here are what’s important- they’re in the first episode, the first scene montage, Johnny draws a dick on one of them as some petty revenge.

The first billboard goes up in the late 2000s to mid 2010s. Johnny sees it, maybe he has Robby with him at the time, maybe he goes home and says something there, but he says something in a way that sticks with even a child as being important. More billboards go up. Dealerships starting popping up more and more. Daniel’s face, and by extension, the memories, the flashbacks, become inescapable. Johnny, for a third time, spirals again. Before he even knows what’s happening, he’s lost his relationship with his son. And it’s all Daniel’s fault. Of course Daniel doesn’t do it deliberately, but the constant reminders are enough to send him back into a tailspin and Johnny blames him for it.

Because it’s Daniel who is a constant reminder of his failures- it’s Daniel who caused him to lose the tournament and almost get killed, Daniel who put up the billboards that trigger his flashbacks, it’s always Daniel Daniel Daniel.

And then Johnny gets it in his head that he wants to be better. He opens a dojo, teaches Miguel and the other kids, wants to try again- and he almost succeeds.

Johnny up to this point has not deliberately antagonized Daniel in any way. Sure he named the dojo Cobra Kai, but Cobra Kai is all he knows. Besides Johnny doesn’t blame karate for his failures, his best memories are Cobra Kai and he’s trying to be better than Kreese. So what’s the harm in this really? His building is in Reseda, there’s no reason for Daniel to ever be there, he doesn’t do it out of spite, it’s because he lives there and rent is cheap. He doesn’t know about KK3, doesn’t know about Daniel’s own trauma. This isn’t an attack. Johnny sincerely just doesn’t know.

Enter Daniel, stage left. Daniel makes no attempt to talk to him- he simply makes demands and accusations, before he starts making active attempts to put him out of business.

Sure, we as the audience know Daniel has good reasons to not want Cobra Kai back. But Johnny doesn’t. All Johnny knows is that the kid he picked on in high school- who won, who got everything Johnny wanted, who grew up to be successful, has a wonderful wife, two kids who love him, a thriving business- is doing everything he can to make his life hell 30 years after the fact.

And this could only have happened because in 1986 John G. Avildsen decided to add in a scene meant for the original movie into the sequel, for absolutely no fucking reason.

[alfredolover119]

zukka fic rec list (post-canon)

howdy! i’ve been collecting zukka fics i like since uhhh june and now i am sharing my lists with the world. i’m splitting it into three posts so it hopefully wont be too long. this is the second one: post-canon fics! the other two will be canon era and modern au. [side note!! if youd like a specific type of rec list,, i.e. soulmate au, fake dating, ambassador sokka,, hmu and i’ll post a list !!]

within this post, the fics are in word count order! also, if you’d like a soundtrack for your reading, i might recommend my zukka playlist :^) happy reading!

speak ill by @moonsongdotmp3

-4111 words, teen

-developing/established relationship, ozai hate <3

"I hate your dad so much,” Sokka considers for a second. He tries to mix it up as often as he can when they play this game. “That I have considered starting an official petition begging Aang to reconsider his commitment to nonviolence.” // It’s quiet for a beat. He’s afraid he’s miscalculated, but Zuko laughs, broken and sincere. // (Or: 5, 8, 15 years after the war, Sokka talks shit about Ozai.)

Friends Don’t Let Friends Fake Date Each Other by @d-naggeluide

-5349 words, general

-fake dating, coming out, kinda crackfic

Toph demands that Zuko fake date her. This goes just about as well as can be expected. Sokka steps in to show them how it's done, and this goes a bit better than expected.

Oh, How We Find Our Way by @donvex

-6043 words, teen

-bed sharing, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff

In which Zuko doesn’t sleep nearly enough once he takes up the throne, and Sokka isn’t having it. And maybe they get to fall in love on the way, as a treat.

(let me be) there for you by @bisexuallsokka

-8471 words, teen

-friends/idiots to lovers, mutual pining, getting together

Sokka pulls out a clean piece of parchment and starts to write: Reasons Why Sokka Would Be A Great Bodyguard for Lord Zuko // He smiles in satisfaction at the title. Seeing it in writing only makes him feel more confident in this brilliant, two-minute-old idea of his. Zuko is one of his closest friends, and Sokka is a great fighter, he would be the perfect bodyguard! He has the entirety of his trip in the Fire Nation to prove it to Zuko. This is going to be a piece of cake.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas​

-8921 words, explicit

-royalty/moon spirit!sokka, childhood friends to lovers, no war au, mutual pining, fluff and angst

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9713 words, teen

-trans sokka, family angst

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

Will You Fake Date Me (But This Time For Real)? by AlyssiaInWonderland

-10520 words, not rated (teen, i think)

-fake dating, mutual pining, idiots to lovers

Zuko is determined to convince his Uncle that he is not, in fact, pining after Sokka. // Sokka is desperate to convince Katara and Aang that he is not, in fact, pining after Suki. // When Sokka's scheme to avoid pity means Zuko and him must fake date for an entire diplomatic event, shenanigans, realisations and confessions ensue.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey​

-10540 words, mature

-ambassador!sokka, friends to fwb to lovers, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

Operation: Get the Fire Lord a Boyfriend by @rejectscanon 

-10679 words, teen

-established relationship, attempted matchmaking, fluff, hurt/comfort, 5+1

5 times the people of the Fire Nation tried to get Zuko and Sokka together, and 1 time they realized they already were.

a study in matchmaking by @verdanthoney​

-12218 words, general

-friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, bg bakoda and kataang

Zuko and Sokka try to play matchmaker, but things don’t go exactly as planned.

Always read Your Peace Treaties Carefully by preciousbunnynoiz

-14039 words, teen

-arranged marriage, miscommunication, found family, fluff, non-linear narrative, angst with a happy ending

Zuko and Sokka have been engaged to be married since the peace talks. Only they were the only ones who didn't know. // Everyone else thought they not only knew but that they had already been dating the entire time. // This is also news to Zuko and Sokka who have definitely NOT been dating but maybe they aren't as uninterested as they are protesting.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee​

-18767 words, teen, major character death (NOT ZUKO OR SOKKA OR ANY OF THE GAANG)

-found family, slowburn, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

All the Little Things by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-23575 words, general

-fake dating, friends to lovers, mutual pining, bed sharing, fluff, miscommunication

Sokka receives an offer of an arranged marriage from the Northern Water Tribe. On the one hand, accepting would strengthen ties between their tribes. On the other hand, Chief Arnook has suggested Hahn as a potential match, and Hahn sucks. But with the future of the Southern Water Tribe Reconstruction project relying heavily on the good will of the North, Sokka doesn’t know how to say no. // (Katara doesn’t have to deal with this. Katara is dating the Avatar.) // Zuko has a solution. Sokka just wishes he’d realized he was in love with the Fire Lord before he agreed to pretend to date him.

isn’t this the vision that you wanted by @goldrushzukka​

-34633 words, teen

-pining, matchmaking, coming out, friends to lovers, bed sharing, internalized homophobia

Firelord Zuko - ender of the Hundred Year War, ruler of the Fire Nation, payer of respects and reparations - takes advice and counsel from representatives of every nation, division, and specialty. // But teenage boy Zuko - friend of turtleducks, wielder of fun looking swords, stumbler over words and feet in the presence of cute boys - only listens to two people, and they are conspiring together to ruin him.

(do you take this jerk to be) your one and only by @jatersade​

-55855 words, teen

-enemies to friends to lovers, (not actually) unrequited love, slowburn, sharing a bed, alternate universe, arranged marriage, huddling for warmth, fluff

Under the leadership of Fire Lord Iroh, the Fire Nation has made every attempt to restore peace and make amends for the harm they inflicted during the Seventy-Year War. Their newest proposal is a literal proposal: a marriage to unite the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes. // The Fire Nation offers Prince Zuko’s hand. // The Water Tribes offer Princess Yue’s. // Sokka is apparently the only person in the world who has a problem with any of this.

Wooing the Water Tribe by @dameferre​

-56839 words, teen

-didn’t know they were dating, i mean IDIOT idiots to lovers, ambassador!sokka, mutual pining, himbos istg

Zuko is courting Katara, and with every passing day finds new and insane ways of showing that he would quite literally move the spirit world and earth to make her happy. // In hindsight, it probably would've been better if Sokka had realised he was in love with Zuko at literally any time before this. Or preferably, never fallen for his best friend in the first place.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning​

-83901 words, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka, ambassador zuko kinda, hurt/comfort, slowburn, pining, canon divergence, miscommunication, sickfic, huddling for warmth, angst with a happy ending, enemies to lovers, underage drinking

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

[mc-critical]

So I was rewatching some of MYK Season 2 and it had me thinking..do you notice the insane amount of parallels and overall similarities in character arcs between MYK’s Beyazied (Gulbahar’s son) and MY’s Mustafa (Mahi’s son?). Both had a sense of undying loyalty and love/respect to the respective sultans of their time while also meeting their demise at the sultan’s hands, both maintaining positive relationships with their half-siblings despite opposition from their enviornments, both being the only children of mothers who weren’t favorites but were extremely politically ambitious and skilled. Both being princes popular with the janissaries of their time and were seen as a looming threat towards the sultan’s power. I even feel like like Beyazied and Mustafa were similar in their disposition and sense of justice and morality. Tell me am I wrong here because I really can’t unsee it they feel so similar to me😭

Yes, MCK Bayezid and MC Mustafa share the same character archetype (hence why they have the parallels you mentioned), but that's the only thing they're similar in for me. The archetype is only a baseline for both of their characters - their development goes in a very different direction.

The thing that sets them apart the most from the start, is that Mustafa's strenghts and flaws are shaped more by sheer personality, while Bayezid is a character shaped more by curcumstance. That leaves room for more development for Bayezid where he eventually changes his stance on people around him, while despite of every hint of change, intrigue or word of advice, Mustafa's principles and beliefs stay the same.

Both Mustafa and Bayezid have a missing part of their lives that shapes their flaws, but that part is different in both of them. No matter how much support Bayezid seemingly had, he always missed his mother and wanted to see her face he's long forgotten, he wanted to see her all the more with each and every letter of hers. And once that chance presents itself, thanks to Murat, no less (good job, lad, good job, indeed....), he would surely want to see his back from exile mother in a good light, despite of all the wrongs she has done. That's why Gülbahar was Bayezid's blind spot. His love and respect for his mother goes beyond comforting her, defending her, hiding her mistakes and saving her from death, something that Mustafa would be also likely to do - with each event passing, Bayezid also begins to listen to her more and more, becomes convinced of her words that he's born in a middle of a war and sets himself even further against Murat and Kösem. Mustafa, on the other hand, has always been next to Mahidevran in every step of the way, with everyone around him avoiding their separation at all costs, hence he can be much more independent of her perspective. She can only go so far with opposing Mustafa's decisions, he always ends up choosing to do what he sees as right and just, even when his beliefs are challanged. He doesn't let his beliefs to be challanged by anyone. He doesn't want to let his beliefs to be challanged by anyone. He loves his mother deeply and he's also developed a need to protect her at all costs, but that need is based on his awareness of all she has experienced and to prevent her to suffer or worry ever again, not out of missing her whole self, which makes it a need outside of Mustafa's own predicament and decisions.

Mustafa wanting to keep his principles firm originates from his wish to prove himself to his father. Süleiman is Mustafa's blind spot. We see how much he wants to be next to him and have his attention even when he was little and since Mustafa was given a sense of purpose ever since then, too (while Bayezid has been living a life where he didn't yet see the dangers of the world in their fullest extent before Murat's complete downfall and before Gülbahar; he even mentioned to her that he didn't want the throne, even though he was constantly suspected of betraying Murat.), sure he would want to prove himself worthy and follow what SS (and Ibro and Mahi to an extent, too, but especially SS) has taught him when it came to ruling. (like when he chose justice instead of SS's order in E92, which, even though he disobeyed, wouldn't be right or just, since that person was slandered. Musti revealed that he acted like what SS has told him in the past, it being justice is most important.) Even when his father acted against him, Mustafa trusted him blindly, refusing to believe that a father could ever kill his son, even in close probability, no matter what everyone else around him said. (he wrote the letter when Cihangir told him of SS's words in E123, but Musti went to SS anyway, his trust being much stronger than his biggest inkling of suspicion.) He loved him too much, even when he slowly came to realize the growing wedge between them, never succumbing to the temptation to directly rebel against him. (except the kaftan situation, where his trust was directly put into question by a supposed action of his and even then Musti went to merely confront him and die as a warrior if it lead up to this, not kill him, and the trust became stronger than ever afterwards.) Bayezid, on the other hand, always sensed the danger Murat posed in some way, and he realized that no matter how much he proved his loyalty at first and refused drastic action at first, he would always keep suspecting him. Bayezid was allowed to see Murat in his biggest cruelty, at one point, Bayezid didn't see him as fit to rule anymore and was more than ready to dethrone him after an act too cruel by him in Bayezid's eyes. Even when he respected Murat, Bayezid didn't seem to want to prove his worth as much to him or to have gained his principles and beliefs by him and the bond between them wasn't as close, not for Bayezid. The cruelty of the world and Murat's own cruelty grew more and more, hence Bayezid became more open to criticize them and more ruthless, as a result of this. He strived to evade his wrath more than anything. And at one time, there was no turning back now between Murat and Bayezid, which also played a part in his execution.

The way Mustafa views Hürrem and the way Bayezid views Kösem are both very different, too. While I don't feel Mustafa completely hated Hürrem, per say and even in S04, he was rather done with her bullcrap than anything else, he had some resentment for her. He was aware that she played a part in Mahidevran's suffering and sensed that Hürrem giving birth hurts his mother. Still, he knew where the line was: he respected her position as a Sultana and the mother of his brothers, didn't blame her instinctively, didn't fault Cihangir for choosing his own mother in the kaftan sutuation and was willing to listen even in the peak of his resentment. (in E121, where he didn't believe that she wasn't behind the trap.) Bayezid had a more familial bond with Kösem, since she was like a mother to him when his real mother was missing. I feel he appreciated all the care she took for him and even loved her until a point. But once he turned against her, the mutual respect between them was gone completely, with him eventually discarding all she did for him and Kösem disowning him. His resentment for Kösem slowly grew through Gülbahar: the seeds were planted with the letters she was sending to him, which made Bayezid feel he didn't belong, opening a hole in his heart, and then Bayezid being open to listen to Gülbahar more and more with her setting him against both Murat and Kösem. Bayezid tied Kösem to Murat, while in truth, she acted outside of him. Bayezid eventually became convinced that Kösem was a danger. But while circumstances also helped, him standing "on the other side of the war" was bound to break them apart. Bayezid and Kösem already had different goals. The more he sided with Gülbahar's view, the more that cemented their rift. He fully stood against her once she confronted him about him hiding Gülbahar, that made him give up on her to the point he agreed to have her killed in the Eski Saray, since then it would be easier to take down Murat. Despite of Mahidevran's view and experiences, Mustafa's resentment of Hürrem grew because of her own actions: all her attempts to kill him are what made him embittered towards her to the point of him declaring that he won't have mercy on her and Rüstem. He views her actions separately from those of Süleiman- he's aware that she's trying to eliminate him with all her might and that she could maybe involve Süleiman in that, too, but still strives to see a bigger picture. All that is why his actions against her are more defensive than they're offensive and only go so far as to show her her place in some way, not to directly try to kill her, since he regards the feelings of his siblings, too. He sees her and Rüstem as a tandem in S04, but even then he would do actions more against Rüstem than against Hürrem.

I would say that Mustafa has a better relationship with his brothers than Bayezid. He truly loves them a lot and always considers what they have to say, no matter what, but his brothers themselves, even Selim, loved him, too, and never got in conflict with him, expect for the aftermath of him saving Selim from the janissaries, some side scenes with Mehmet when they made amends almost immediately or that one case where they both were little. And he indeed never stops caring about them. I wouldn't say the same for Bayezid, however. While he did share the same affection Mustafa had for his brothers at first, Kasim always had a strained relationship with him and it kept getting more and more strained by each day (even Ibrahim resented him at one point, too). And yes, truly, Bayezid did try to reach out for him many times, Kasim seeing Bayezid and Gülbahar's secret firsthand and the whole Kalika situation sealed things between them to the point of no return. He set himself against Kasim completely, turning out that Gülbahar succeeded to drive the wedge between them. (of course, Mahidevran also had this similar intent, but what I found interesting with her is that, E55 aside, she mostly tried to make Mustafa look at them merely as rivals and in E69 she did tell him that his love for them made her proud regardless; I'm preparing a whole post about comparing Gülbahar and Mahidevran I hope I'll finish some day ahahah) By deciding to take what's rightfully his, Bayezid disregarded his brothers, too. (I understand why he did, but still.) His perspective on them changed just like everything else.

I agree that both Mustafa and Bayezid have a sense of justice, but while Mustafa's justice is based more on morals, principles, nobility, familial bonds and "doing the right thing" in general, Bayezid's justice becomes more "warped". Bayezid sees many injustices done to him or his mother and no matter how much he held back from acting the way his supporters wanted him to, he comes to respond to the injustice with injustice, as well. Or worse yet, he already views the injustice as justice. He perceives leaving his previous, "purer" principles behind as what is right and since he's in a war, he's already ready to do "whatever it takes" to ascend the throne. It's like he restrained himself for too long while reality around him ensued. Mustafa was always aware of this reality, even if deep down inside, even when he was trying to deny it when it came to SS, yet he chose not to leave "his own self" behind. Despite of all the intrigues against him, he responded to the injustice with justice. He held onto this until the end. He held onto this in spite of every opposition or injustice. And yes, both of these approaches were to Mustafa and Bayezid's detriments, respectively, in their distinct circumstances.

Sure, both of Mustafa and Bayezid did "the right thing" prior to their executions (going to SS - choosing not to go to the persian şah as a way out). It was expected for Mustafa, due to his established character and flaws, but for Bayezid it has become the exception - I saw him as more irritated that Gülbahar and Sinan worked behind his back when he told them not to a while ago, but maybe when he didn't succeed to do what he attempted to get on the throne, he decided that he'd rather die, but not run. And his mother's safety was still his first priority, even in death. Even then he didn't exactly realize his mistake, rather that he would be executed for it, since he still acted high and mighty in front of Kösem. Mustafa wasn't really aware of why SS called him in the first place, he wasn't aware of the intrigue with the letter, he didn't know what went wrong, hence he didn't have a true reason to doubt all that, despite of the words of everyone else, so of course he approached the situation like he typically would. It was only Cihangir's words to him where the doubt appeared and he still didn't back down on his decision. Bayezid took a more immediate decision based on curcumstance (with one scene with him ruminating in his chambers), while Mustafa took the decision he usually would. They were both executed by their fathers, but due to different reasons and even before the executions and with their once same foundation as characters, both of them acted differently here.

Though no matter how different they turn out to be in hindsight for me, I still consider MCK Bayezid as a response to MC Mustafa anyway - what MC Mustafa would've been if he let curcumstance influence him and decided to act against his father. (I also did mention in your previous ask about Mustafa that the fandom does tend to view him as MCK Bayezid's exact copy sometimes, but that isn't quite true.) When the crippling realization that your parent could disregard you comes through and you decide not to stand by that and let your survival instinct kick in, after all. Anyhow, I find both of them very interesting to compare and contrast and I love both of their characters, so thanks for giving me the chance to delve into this topic at last. ^^

[k7l4d4]

A Miraculous Manifesto: A list of my thoughts on Miraculous Ladybug

Hello ladies, gentlemen, and germs of all ages! Everybody clap your hands! Today, I am going to talk about a show that I very much enjoy, but also drives me up a wall: Miraculous Ladybug!

If you don’t know the show, feel free to ignore this, this is mostly to get my head together and my thoughts posted down. It’s basically just a collection of my opinions on topics within the Miraculous Fandom and show.

First off, and it’s a doozy, Chloe Bourgeois. For those not in the know, Chloe is one of the singularly most bitter, mean, and utterly selfish characters ever invented. But, she isn’t a one-note hate sink. Chloe’s mother, who is an even BIGGER bitch than Chloe herself is, abandoned her to focus on the fame and adulation her career in the fashion industry afforded her, never remembering her Birthday and often not even bothering to remember her NAME. Ouch! Chloe’s father, Andre, while not without his faults, being a formerly corrupt, and still kind of shady, politician and all, but he deeply loves his daughter. Unfortunately, Andre is by all accounts and absentee parent, relegating Chloe’s rearing to Nannies, Butlers, and the like, and burying her in presents and gifts to avoid actually parenting and teaching Chloe. All in all, a bad combination.

By all accounts, Chloe was originally a very sweet and kind hearted girl, reaching out and befriending the lonely son of the Agreste family, Adrien. However, her loneliness, her dad’s spoiling behavior, and her pining for her mother combined to turn Chloe into a monster. Chloe, as she currently is, has a massively egotistical and selfish demeanor, and has no real friends, lashing out in the cruelest and most spiteful ways for the pettiest of reasons, or just for laughs. The closest thing she has to a friend is the socially awkward and unwaveringly loyal Sabrina, who often serves as her lackey, and is regarded as such as even her family’s staff don’t believe she has friends. Again, Ouch.

When given the chance to be a superhero as Queen Bee, a role which even Marinette, Ladybug herself, thought might help her change, we saw more signs that there is more to Chloe than just a dumb bully. Despite what people might think, Chloe actually is capable of feeling remorse for her actions, and her deepest desire underneath all the hate and bile is too be useful. To not just be another burden.

Unfortunately, show creator Thomas Astruc sank that idea. Turns out, Chloe is apparently utterly incapable of change and will always remain a self-centered monster. Now, I do NOT condone the fandom that was rooting for Chloe’s behavior against Tommy-boy, as all they did was give him vindication by acting like a pack of rabid jackals going in for the kill. On his official Wiki page for Miraculous, Thomas gives what appears to be a poetic and thoughtful detailing as to his decision and why he is right for it. Honestly? It rings hollow. For all his fancy words and attempts to illustrate Chloe as solely being a toxic, hateful individual without redemptive qualities, his reasoning, as well as his apparent intent from the start to have Chloe becoming a SuperHero to be a fake-out, comes across as crass and tacky.

Thomas perpetually portrays Chloe as being a bitter and spiteful shrew, with any kind deed she does having a duplicitous motive, that she is utterly incapable of showing genuine kindness and remorse as she is, and that is the way she always will be, but the thing is? When you give a character a sympathetic backstory and motive for how and why the way they are, you should expect people to sympathize and relate to that character, as well as acknowledge the you are opening them up to the possibility to change for the better. These are all things Thomas denies ruthlessly. In his narrative, Chloe can never be good, and all her pain has only served to ruin her, nothing more.

One of his arguments to justify this? Supervillains don’t sell toys. To explain, while a tragic backstory might make kids and folks sympathize for a villain, they still won’t consider them good or support them. That is true, of course. But the biggest flaw in his logic? Supervillains are just as capable of changing, becoming better than what they are, just like EVERYONE is. Villains can become heroes, it’s true! Not without trials and tribulation, of course, but they can be more than the label society gives them. Thomas has refused to even entertain the possibility that Chloe can ever be more than what he dictates she can be. In his narrative, people who have done bad things can never attempt to redeem themselves.

Chloe’s a baddy. Case closed. Thomas has repeatedly pointed to moments in the show that “illustrate” that Chloe is beyond redemption, that she can never grow beyond her faults, but the things is? He’s the creator, one of them, and a writer for the show. He has the POWER to CHANGE that narrative, to have things happen that force Chloe to grow and become a decent, if he can’t bring himself to make her good, and make amends, even if others don’t accept it.

Thomas likes to draw comparisons to abusive relationships when it comes to Chloe, but when you look at the show? It doesn’t actually hold water. The only people she has any kind of relationship with that isn’t straight up antagonism are Adrien, Sabrina, Audrey, and Andre. While it could be argued that Chloe is abusive towards Sabrina, and the dynamic they have is NOT healthy, I wouldn’t call it abusive. Chloe in no way forces Sabrina to do all that Sabrina does for her, even if she is barking orders, and Sabrina is cognizant of the fact that they do not have a standard friendship, enough so that even Chloe’s family’s employees don’t actually view Sabrina as actually being Chloe’s friend. Chloe might be harsh with Sabrina when they are on the outs, but she is never shown forcing Sabrina into anything, and Sabrina is often the only person besides Adrien or herself that Chloe shows compassion towards, particularly as Sabrina is one of the few people completely aware of Chloe’s childish and geeky side and accepts it utterly; at the worst interpretation, Sabrina is Chloe’s ENABLER, not her victim.

For Audrey and Andre’s relationship with Chloe, it is definitely toxic, but, if anything, Chloe is the one being abused! Audrey frequently belittles and ridicules Chloe, forgets her name, HER OWN DAUGHTER’S NAME, abandoned her when she was too little to truly take care of herself or have proper knowledge of right from wrong, and generally treats her like a particularly incompetent employee, when all Chloe wants from Audrey is her affection, her approval, and her love. Andre isn’t really bad with Chloe, but he’s neglected to be a parent to her, showering her with gifts to avoid having to actually be there for her when she needed him for all those years, which probably didn’t do any favors for how maladjusted she is. 

Adrien frequently makes excuses for Chloe, apologizing on her behalf, and only occasionally standing up to her when she acts up. But Chloe isn’t abusing him, emotionally or mentally, as Adrien could be considered Chloe’s sole true friend; whenever Adrien scolds or gets upset with Chloe, Chloe backs down and off, and on the few times Adrien has threatened to stop being friends with her, Chloe has nearly broken. The only real thing keeping Adrien in Chloe’s life is the fact that she was his first friend, and he is her only friend aside from Sabrina. Chloe has no leverage to be abusing Adrien, or anything to use to keep them in each other’s lives; Adrien is friends with her by choice. Nothing else.

The worst part of it all? Chloe never got a chance. Thomas denied Chloe the possibility of growth, and will most likely keep denying it to her. So, I say we mourn. We mourn the loss of what will never come to pass, because one guy with a TV Show said so.

[easily-infatuated23]

The Parent and the Professor

a/n: i love the idea of reader being a professor! let me know if you want a part two :) letters are in italics

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Professor!Reader

word count: 4k

warning: mentions of war and not feeling worthy

summary: Will a broken friendship be rekindled when Scorpius’s favorite teacher writes a letter to his father?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have always had a passion for teaching and inspiring young minds. So, it wasn’t surprising that I was ecstatic to start my fourth year teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at my alma mater, Hogwarts. When I first started working there, I was haunted by the memories of the war. Everywhere I looked I could remember a different face of a friend or teacher laying dead. Seeing the students happy faces made the memories easier to bear. Just the knowledge that they could safely live out their childhoods in such a magical and special place softened the lingering pain.

One of my favorite parts of teaching at Hogwarts was teaching the children of the people I had grown up with. For some, I knew so much about their parents from those early silly childhood days that simply seeing their faces made me laugh and reminisce. Of all the children of friends I had taught thus far, the most gifted was Scorpius Malfoy. It wasn’t such a shock that he was so clever, his father had been a very gifted student when he applied himself. I had been apprehensive when I first read Scoripus’s name on the attendance sheet. His father Draco and I had actually been very close friends for the first 6 years of schooling. We were both in Slytherin and he was one of the few people who didn’t tease or berate me for not being a typical Slytherin. Yes he would get annoyed when I stood up for Hermione when he called her a ‘mudblood’ or when I would challenge his pure-blood views but he always was kind to me.

That all changed in the beginning of our sixth year. He started pushing everyone away and yelling at me almost any time he saw me. I tried to continue to be kind to him but my attempts were swatted away like flies. Once the war began, I understood why he had become distant. He was given an impossible task with no choice as to whether or not to complete it. The worst moment came when he walked to the side of the Death Eaters and The Dark Lord. I was one of the few people that knew he did this for the sake of his parents and not for the Dark Lord. He redeemed this action when Harry Potter was revealed to be alive. He threw him his wand and ran back to the side of good. We locked eyes for a moment before he ran through the castle to safety. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. He did make a sort of “apology and amends” tour going to almost every individual in the Wizarding World and showing he was a changed man and that he no longer held his past ideals. The one person he left out on that tour was me.

I never understood why. I figured he either thought our friendship was beyond fixing or maybe because he knew I would forgive him and understand. More likely, I guessed he couldn’t stand to face me. But none of that mattered now. It was all just a slight pain in my heart whenever I saw Scorpius. As the school year began, Scorpius Malfoy excelled in my class. He was always the first to raise his hand to ask or answer a question, always the most engaged and eager to learn. One day after class I noticed he was lingering by the door. “Can I help you Mr. Malfoy?” I asked. He nodded and approached my desk. “I was wondering if you could assign me as Athena’s tutor. I know she asked you for one and I want to volunteer”. He looked down at his shoes, trying to hide a blush I figured stemmed from a small crush on the student called Athena. “I was going to assign it to you any way but because you asked I will also add ten points to Slytherin for taking the initiative”. He looked up and smiled. “Thank you Professor!”. He ran out of the room so giddy, calling to his best friend Albus to tell him the news. “What a sweet kid” I thought. Later that night I took a break from grading tests and thought about my old friend Draco Malfoy. Perhaps I should write him. But just to tell him what a gifted student his son was. His wife had passed away four years ago and I figured it must be lonely being all alone in the large estate he occupied known as Malfoy Manor. Maybe this would re-open a line of communication between the two of us. It had been a long time since I had seen him and frankly, I missed him. He probably didn’t think of me though. Sighing, I picked up my quill and penned a formal letter to my former friend.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

-I couldn’t bring myself to write Draco-

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I wanted to inform you that your son has done exceedingly well in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class and has quickly become my prized pupil. He has even volunteered to take on extra tutoring responsibilities. He is a sweet young man and it is a privilege to have him in my class.

Sincerely, Professor Y/L/N

I examined the letter for a long time, constantly frowning at it and wondering if I should just ball it up and forget about it. At last I found the nerve to seal the letter and before I could stop myself Harvey, my owl, was flying away from my cottage. “Too late now” I murmured. My letter went unanswered for nearly two weeks. I spent the entire first week feeling anxious and most of the second week resigned to the idea that Draco had truly decided I was unworthy of a response. After all, it had been many years. On the Friday of the second week, I stayed up late grading some last minute essay submissions when I heard a tapping at my window. I turned to find an unfamiliar owl outside. I opened the window and took the letter. After a sufficient amount of pats and snacks were given to the owl, I settled in to see if the letter was what I had been waiting for. It was the first thing I saw, the green snake seal on the back confirmed it. Draco had responded to my letter. I flipped it over to see my name scrawled on the front in handwriting I used to be more familiar with. I stared at the letter for a long time before finally opening it. I gently removed the seal and unfolded the letter, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would leave my chest.

Dear Professor Y/L/N,

I appreciate your kind words about my son. He has spoken fondly of you and of your class, he says it is his favorite. Congratulations on being the longest serving Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in twenty years. It is quite a feat. I hope you are well.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy

My heart skipped a beat. He matched my formality but he still slipped in something to make me blush. I sighed. I hadn’t been expecting some long rambling dramatic letter explaining why he never came back to me, despite my efforts, but a small clue or hint would have been something. I thought writing the letter might give me more closure but I was horribly mistaken. Now, all I wanted to do was write him back and find some way to see him. I had done my best after the war but he pushed me away more. That night was a sleepless night for me. I felt like a sixteen year old again, debating if I should write him back or not. If I did decide to write him back, how long should I wait? Ultimately, I decided it was best to leave it there.

Two months later, Quidditch season was in full swing as Slytherin was playing Hufflepuff in a match leading up to the finals. I was never one thrilled by the idea of Quidditch, but Scorpius had begged me to come so I attended. He had followed in his father’s foot steps and was the Seeker for the Slytherin team. When I got to the parent and faculty section I was stunned to see none other than Draco Malfoy. I quickly looked away and tried to pretend I hadn’t seen him. I jogged up the bleacher stairs and sat next to the Divinations teacher. For most of the game I pretended to be watching the match but in reality, I kept glancing at Draco’s platinum blonde hair, half hoping he would turn and see me and half hoping he would leave without knowing I was there. Eventually, I was able to relax and enjoy the game. Scorpius lead the team to a win and the Slytherin student section went wild. I could have sworn I saw Athena blow him a kiss. I guess those tutoring sessions had helped him as much as they had helped her grades! I couldn’t help but look down and chuckle to myself, this little bit of childhood romance warmed my heart. When I looked back up my gaze was meant by the piercing blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. I couldn’t tell if the look on his face was that of shock or fear but before I could give a slight smile he looked away. Now this truly felt like we were sixteen again.

Everyone started to rise and leave the section talking and making merry. I rose from my seat and before I could begin to descend, Draco rose suddenly and turned to me, walking in my direction. I froze. “Hello Professor Y/L/N” he said, not meeting my gaze for long. “Mr. Malfoy” was all I could manage to croak. “I was so pleased to receive your letter about Scorpius, he doesn’t always tell me what’s going on when he’s here”. “Yes,” I smiled “he is a wonderful student. You must be very proud of him”. Draco gave a small but sincere smile. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you here” I said. “I was able to get a few weeks off from work so I decided to come down and watch the match. It has been nice to see the place so..” he paused. “Free” I finished for him. He smiled and met my gaze again. “Yes thats exactly what I was thinking.” There was a few moments of silence. It wasn’t as awkward or terrifying as I had anticipated. “I should go find my son” he said finally. “Yes of course it was good to see you again”. I meant this whole heartedly. “Perhaps I can see you again soon and we can talk while there is less noise” he said. A little surprised but happy I replied yes. Before turning to leave he squeezed my hand and gave me his signature smirk before turning and descending down the bleachers. Was my friendship with Draco Malfoy finally going to be rekindled? I hoped so. Before turning and walking out of sight he called back to me, “I’ll write you”. I nodded. I would never have expected this to happen and I had no idea what to expect next.

Another week went by before I heard from him. His owl found me in the middle of a lesson, I opened the window and thanked the owl. I tucked the letter into my robe pocket. As I shifted my attention back to the class I saw Scorpius’s face twist with confusion then look at Albus Potter. Shit. He clearly recognized the owl. I decided I would talk to him after class. Once the lesson was over I called Scorpius to my desk. “I saw you looked confused when your father’s owl delivered me a letter so I thought I owed you an explanation”. He said nothing but simply looked at the floor and shifted uncomfortably. “Your father and I actually used to be very close friends in the early years at Hogwarts,” I began. He looked up at me puzzled. It was clear his father had never mentioned that detail to him. “I wrote to your father telling him what an exceptional student you were and then we ran into each other at the last Quidditch match, congratulations by the way, and we discussed possibly meeting to catch up. I didn’t want you to simply see the owl and then have your brain spin in circles thinking of possible reasons for the letter”. He nodded and finally spoke. “Yeah I was really confused at first. I must admit I am a bit more confused now though. He has never spoken about you before. When I told him you were my favorite professor he seemed to not know who you were”. Ouch. “Well we were going through a hard time back then, I don’t blame him for forgetting” I managed, trying to keep my composure. “You may go” I finished. He jogged out of the room glancing back one more time before finally leaving. Maybe he thought I died. Rationalizing wasn’t helping. I climbed the small staircase in my classroom and entered my office, locking the door behind me. I opened the letter and read its contents.

Dear Professor Y/L/N,

It was pleasant running into you at the Quidditch match last week. If you are able, perhaps you would be kind enough to meet at Malfoy Manor for lunch on Saturday at 11:30. I fear we have much to discuss and would prefer to do so in private.

Sincerely, Draco Malfoy

Saturday, at the Manor. It would be a difficult place to be. Although I was a Slytherin, I had befriended Harry Potter and the rest of his trouble-making trio. I enjoyed their company. It provided a break from the constant berating from the rest of my house. However, due to this friendship I had been taken and held hostage along with Luna Lovegood in Malfoy Manor for a few weeks before the final battle. I had been hit with every curse short of killing me. Draco had been forced to witness but did nothing to help me. I understood why he couldn’t but just once it would have been nice to see him stand up for me. But, alas, I figured I wasn’t worthy of any help. Returning to the Manor was something I never thought I would do but his letter let on to a promise of answers to questions I had been harboring for so long now.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

I accept.

Sincerely, Professor Y/L/N

Short and sweet. Now came the long wait for Saturday. Once the day arrived I was more nervous than I had previously anticipated. I pulled on a pair of black slacks and a fitted white long sleeve shirt. Over the top I chose to wear my brown striped blazer. I put on my favorite silver earrings and necklace with an ’S’ charm. When we had been young, Draco gave me a silver ring for my birthday that was shaped like a snake. I had worn it everyday since then without thought. When I went to reach for it today, I paused. Wearing it had become part of my daily routine but he didn’t know that. Would he think I wore it just for him? I shook the thought out of my head and wore it anyway. If I didn’t wear it I was worried I wouldn’t feel complete which would make me more nervous than I already was. I pulled my light brown hair into a half-up-half-down look and applied some light mascara. I was never one to wear makeup but I hadn’t slept much on Friday night so adding some definition to my face and leading the attention to my green eyes became a necessity to attract attention away from my dark circles.

At 11:29 I gathered all the courage I could and apparated to Malfoy Manor. I knocked timidly on the front door. Even the frigid fall wind couldn’t cool my skin as I blushed in anticipation of the meeting. When he opened the door I was overwhelmed by the scent of apples and cologne that had once held a permanent residence in my nose. “Professor, please come in” he said cordially. I nodded and entered into the place that had housed my nightmares for so long. But somehow it was different. The decor wasn’t as sterile as it once was. It actually looked more lived in and closer to a home than a prison. He noticed my slight surprise. “We’ve redone the place a bit so it probably looks much different compared to……last time” he mumbled. I put on my bravest smile and turned to him. “Yes it is quite lovely Mr. Malfoy”. “Please, you can call me Draco. ‘Mr. Malfoy’ is awfully formal don’t you think?”. I looked at him, a slight smirk waved across his face. “Alright, as long as you call me Y/N” I replied. He led me to the kitchen where a small round table was set and had sandwiches on the plates. “I figured since it was just the two of us there was no need to use the dinning room. Can I take your jacket?” he asked. I nodded and unbuttoned my blazer, handing it to him. As he took it from me, I saw him glance at my right hand and saw the serpent ring coiled around my middle finger. He quickly took the blazer from me and said nothing.

As we sat down to eat there was a few minutes of uncomfortable silence before I finally broke and turned to him. “I am sorry but I have a lot of questions and I won’t leave without answers”. He sighed. Nodding, he turned toward me and I began. “Why didn’t you find me after the war? I wrote to you and tried to reach out but you ignored me. When I told Scorpius we had been old friends he looked at me as if I was lying. Why? Did you completely erase me from your life? If thats the case its your decision but I would like to know why.” I paused, waiting for him to speak. “After the war, I was so ashamed that I never stood up for you and how badly I had hurt you when I shut you out, I didn’t feel worthy of your forgiveness. I ignored your letters because I thought you would be better off not ever having to be reminded of the pain that I caused you.” He couldn’t meet my eyes. I exhaled sharply and buried my face in my hands before I finally replied. “Then I guess you never knew me at all”. He looked up, a stunned expression on his face. “Of all the people in the world you should’ve known that I would be the one to forgive you the most. I understood why you did what you did and why you couldn’t help me. You as much as the rest of us were fighting for the lives of us and our families. Had it really been your choice, I don’t think you would have complied.” He stood up and walked away from the table. “I know” he finally said. “I realized all of that a few years ago but at that point I thought it was too late.” He leaned on the kitchen counter with his back to me. His head was dropped and his shoulders were shaking softly. “Its one of my biggest regrets.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Well, we’re here now. If you have anything else you want to say, nows the time.” He turned back to me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never helped you, I’m sorry I didn’t find you after the fighting was over, I’m sorry I didn’t defend you better at school, I’m sorry for all of it.” His words sounded desperate but genuine. It was like he couldn’t find the breath to properly support his list of apologies. “Stop” I said suddenly. I walked in front of him and grabbed his shoulders, lowering my head until he was forced to meet my gaze. “I forgive you. Completely and totally. I just want my friend back.” He chuckled through a cry before pulling me into a tight hug. His hands were around my waist and mine around his neck. I moved my right hand to the back of his neck and stroked his hair, like I had when we were kids whenever he was upset. He chuckled again softly and held me tighter. “Ok as nice as this is I think you are gonna squeeze all the life out of me!” I joked. “Oh I’m sorry” he breathed as he let me go and pushed me away slightly.

After this first meeting, I saw him almost every weekend. We would meet and reminisce and catch up on our lives. At our third meeting he asked me about the ring. “I see you still wear the ring I gave you. I thought you would have gotten rid of it”. He held my right hand and looked at the ring. “Draco, truthfully, I was worn this ring every single day of my life since you gave it to me. It’s a part of me”. This seemed to please him as his cheeks flushed a light pink. By our sixth meeting me we were sharing a bottle of wine after dinner when he decided to play an old record of songs played at the Yule Ball. “Oh my goodness I can’t believe you actually have this!” I laughed as he purposefully did his worst dance moves. “This was one of my favorite nights at school, how could I not!” Before I knew it, he scooped me up and we were dancing the awful and silly choreographed dance we all had to learn. He spun me around in his living room as the music played. Our shadows were dancing on the walls from the light of the fire. “I don’t think I have laughed this hard in years!” I remarked. “Me too” he replied with a chuckle. Just then all of the sudden the laughter stopped and I realized this was the closest I had been to him since we were in school. This only lasted a few moments before Scorpius appeared at the door. We quickly broke apart and Draco took a step froward. “Yes son?”. “Uh, I just wanted to let you know I was going to Albus’s house to spend the night..” he stared at me with a look of confusion on his face. “Oh yes thats fine, have fun and be safe”. He quickly left the room and hurried out the front door before either of us could offer an explanation. “Oh gosh that was so embarrassing” I said, sitting on the couch and hiding my face in my hands. “He probably thinks that we kissed or were about to” I said, the sound muffled through my hands. Draco sat down next to me. “Weren’t we?” he asked timidly. I sat up and looked at him. “I don’t know, my mind kinda went blank” I chuckled. “Mine too” he smiled. “Can I kiss you?” he asked finally. I smiled and nodded. He smiled back and reached his hand out until he touched my face. He brushed his thumb over my cheek as it made its way to brush over my lips. With his other fingers positioned under my chin, he gently pulled my face closer to his, tilting it slightly upwards and to the right. He kissed me gently moving his hand back to my cheek. I hadn’t expected him to be so gentle but I was so happy I sunk into it easily. Scorpius would get an explanation later, right now, I just wanted to live in the moment I never realized I wanted.

[frenchphobic]

long fucking post on why a c!dream is a shitty person and probably should not have a redemption because it is unpog

honestly i just want to refute dream apologists thats why im making this post. i think that dream as a villain is interesting but i think that trying to make him out to be secretly a good guy is just bad ngl. also /roleplay and all

tw for abuse and mentions of suicide

dream as a villain

dream is a villain. he is chaotic evil according to wilbur, deliberately does not stream to appear less sympathetic (and yet), and is set up as an antagonist to tommy who bears the title ‘hero’. dream is not a good person, no matter how you look at it or try to justify his actions.

‘but he wants to unite everyone to be a big family :((’ the ends dont justify the means believe it or not. having a vaguely positive goal does not excuse the actions you’ve done. it also goes hand and hand with saying dream is correct for punishing tommy the way he did because he acted up. if i socked you across the face and then suddenly said ‘sorry there was a roach on ur face’ does that make it okay? probably not i still punched you, enacting an unnecessary amount of violence. thats a very simple analogy i will admit and there are more complex comparisons. another example off the top of my head is say a child just scribbled all over you walls with crayons. would hitting them be a justified answer? if u said hes thats really fucked of u go seek help u loon. violence as a punishment is very toxic, just because it gets the job done does not mean it is okay. at the end of the day, you still committed this act and the harm you caused is real, having a good motive doesnt suddenly make it okay.

‘but tommy causes all of the conflict’ the disk war wasnt even caused by tommy, it was sapnap and then tommy got involved. and the reason why tommy even caused conflict was because of the discs, because he wanted them back. and most of the time there was a level of antagonism from another party, such as schlatt exiling him, dream taking the disks in the first place, dream threatening l’manberg. and if dream wanted to end the conflict so badly, why didnt he just give tommy back his disks? tommy upfront said everything started with the disks, so he wants them back so he could end the conflict. notice how after tommy got his disks back he has been staying out of conflict, apologizing to everyone, and the only bad thing hes done is try to scam people but everyone does that. this would have been the most peaceful option, yet dream chose the path that would further antagonize tommy which then draws everyone else into conflict. why did dream need to have leverage over tommy so badly? why did he want to hold power over tommy so badly? its because of control, and that’s ultimately dreams end goal. sure he wants a big server family, but would said family have a free will?

‘but dream is sad’ the thing is dream is completely at fault for everything that happened to him. he pushed away sapnap (and george ig). he tried to take control over the server and their possessions. literally everything that happened to tommy. literally everything involving ranboo. villains can be sympathetic, i am not arguing against that. but it does not mean that they should be left off the hook. that doesnt mean u should ignore the shit theyve done because ‘oh no theyre sad’ because it doesnt make anything better. dream had this shit coming for him.

now people also skirt around calling dream an abuser. which is fair ig, its a very loaded word. its much easier to say manipulated. that being said, dream can classify as abusive. and no, tommy is not abusive. abuse is about control and a power imbalance. dream has power over tommy, but tommy does not have power over dream, at least not in the way dream does. he’s taking back power to stand up for himself, dream uses power to control.

the reasons i listed for why dream is from the Domestic Abuse Intervention Project so if u want a source on that, there you go.

using coercion or threats: dream often threatened tommy, such as the pit thing and often employed violence on him. while normally this could be attributed to Normal Minecraft Player Go Smack. minecraft mechanics cannot always translate to real world since violence is pretty normal in minecraft however we also need to consider the context of the scene. dream gave an order, tommy refused, dream applies violence, tommy submitted. thats why its a threat, it has tangible effects that can correlate to real life.

using intimidation: dream blew up logsteadshire as a punishment. dream also destroyed tommys items anytime he visited. dream also hit tommy with his axe i believe. he killed mushroom henry, one of tommys pets.

Using Emotional Abuse: dream guiltripped the shit out of tommy for just hiding things and pinning the blame on tommy for just wanting his own private items. he definitely played mind games on tommy, pretending to be his friend. honestly i probably dont even need to go as in depth because it was so obvious.

Using Isolation: putting him in exile in the first place. destroying the bether portal so no one could visit tommy anymore. i really dont think i need to expand upon that.

Minimizing, Denying, and Blaming: dream in tommys stream when he got trapped said that exile wasnt that bad. he does shift the blame onto tommy for logsteadshire being blown up, even though dreams reaction was entirely unjustified for not listening and hiding.

Using Economic Abuse: see this is where i attempt to parallel minecraft mechanics to real life. obviously, there is no monetary system in place, so when i mean economic, i will use valuables such as armor, food, etc in place of currency. the idea behind economic abuse is to limit the victim’s resources so that they are dependent on the abuser and cannot escape. dream only really allowed tommy to have the armor he gave him while not giving access to armor so he does not regain a sense of power, and in the prison stream, dream holds all the potatoes which puts him in a position of power over tommy. this argument is more ambiguous i feel cause the whole minecraft mechanics thing is kinda weird so u don’t necessarily have to take this part in.

i feel like i need to emphasize this very strongly because dream is not a good person. abuse cannot and should not be a response to someone. its an awful mentality to have. i just want to prove the point that dream is not a good person, his reasons absolutely do not justify his actions.

what makes a good redemption

redemption arcs are tricky. when done right they are great. when done poorly, its a slap in the face. rn im going to establish a formula to what makes a good redemption with an example.

the most well known example of a good redemption is zuko from atla. first, its the magnitude of what theyve done and why. zuko did commit some shitty actions, since he was in a position of power in the fire nation but its because he is a child being abused and wanted to regain honor. zukos real awful acts was season 1 and the whole betrayal thing. thats not to say that zukos actions suddenly are okay, he did shitty things. but its something that can be traced to a higher entity or seem less malicious then the other villains. the thing also about the magnitude of actions is that there is a certain point of atrocities that there is no redemption. some people simply cannot be redeemed because the actions they commit are so ingrained in their character or the action itself has serious moral issues that it would just be wrong.

the next is acknowleding what they did was wrong. a genuine reflection on the self and analyzing what they did and why it was not okay. zuko realized what he did to uncle iroh was bad for example. he turned his back on his father, realizing he didnt and shouldnt seek acknowledgment from someone as heinous as him. its pointing out your actions and going ‘hey, this wasnt right i should not have done this’ and not even excusing ur actions. its also going straight for the root of the problem and figuring out to stamp it from the source. just because a character is sad does not mean they are reflecting, sometimes they are attempting to garner pity. it has to be direct and clear acknowledgement of the injustice.

and finally, an important part about redemption arcs is the actual redemption part. its when you make amends. zuko made amends with katara by trying to help her get revenge, he fought against the fire nation and tried to make things more peaceful in his rule. he apologized to iroh. an important part of the amends section is that it does have to be a genuine desire to change and become a better person, not to change a person’s perception of you. the thing is u cant expect a person youve hurt to forgive you. you cant expect people to be sympathetic towards you nor should u attempt to make urself sympathetic. u shouldnt be expecting a pat on the back or an award. redemption is about internal and character change.

why dream should not be redeemed

ive already established the key points to a good redemption (imo) but heres where dream falls short. his actions are extremely heavy so redemption may not even really be possible. abuse is not something you can wave off so it does cross to the point of fucked up. acknowledgement of what he did was wrong? all he said was that he changed, yet never explained why he changed or was too vague. he needed to label specifically what he did and bring it up. attempting to make amends? he’s been doing the exact opposite in fact he continues to manipulate tommy and ranboo. its not a genuine change. he is still repeating the cycle and has given no indication of ceasing. at the moment he does not have any signs of redemption.

and the thing is most of the attention around a dream redemption comes from either justifying his motives (which i do want to emphasize does not make anything suddenly okay) and because he is sad in prison sad face. these are not good reasons. its gonna pain me severely to bring this up but snape from harry potter does have some form of sad character ig yet he very much abused his authority to bully children as old as 11 just because he said ‘aight gonna die’ doesnt suddenly make his general bigotry and abuse suddenly okay there is a threshold. again im so sorry for using harry potter as an example none were coming to mind and i needed a popular one i do not like harry potter please dont say i do i would pass away.

and the last thing to consider is the audience. keep in mind that the audience is composed of minors and while yes there are adults, minors are the main component of the fandom. keep in mind that there are quite a few people who can relate to tommys character because they might be in the same position or have gone through his experiences. tell me what kind of message does it send to that audience that abusers can be redeemed. this is not a narrative u should push to this audience in these situations and the writers are seemingly aware of it. remember how in exile tommy spiraled into a suicidal mentality? consider how fucked of a message it would be if he just committed suicide instead of escaping abuse and attempting to recover from his experiences. tommy did an excellent job in not going that route and having a message of ‘it will not get better’. its the same thing here. victims are not obligated to care for or forgive their abuser, and portraying an abuser as sympathetic might fuck with the message a lot, even change their perception in that ‘oh, maybe my abuser was right, maybe they had a reason for treating me the way they did’. this is not to say that every victim watching this will internalize this message, but people also look up to these characters. there can be a degree of influence from the story onto oneself and thats the dangerous part.

conclusion

all in all dream is a shitbag asshole and probably shouldnt get a redemption because it would not be pog thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #9: Friable

Word count - 1550

Friable – easily crumbled.

“Makoto, what’s going on? Why are we at this random warehouse?”

Makoto briefly stopped as she walked down the offices. She didn’t like lying to her girlfriend, but it wasn’t the right time yet to tell her the full truth. “You’ll….you’ll see, Fearless. Please, just trust me.”

“I do trust you, you know that. Oooh, is this a secret midday rendezvous?” Fearless’ voice became sultry. “Dilapidated office, eh? Didn’t know you’d be into this kinda thing. I like this side of you!”

Makoto giggled, in spite of her apprehension. “No, no, my love! We’re not here for that! Just…through here, please.” She gestured to a door.

Fearless opened it. Inside was a conference room, occupied simple table, chairs, and two miqo’tes seated at them. “Well well, Ranaa and Rheika? Okay, clearly not a midday rendezvous. So uh….why exactly are we all here?”

Ranaa Mhigo, her other girlfriend, stood up to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She was attired in casual Hingan dress. The blue tones matched well against her darker skin tone, Fearless noted. She’d have to remember this shade when buying her gifts.

Ranaa quickly embraced Makoto, and then she gestured for Fearless to sit in the chair opposite Rheika, dressed in one of her shinobi outfits. She and Makoto sat in the chairs that were flanking her.

Rheika smiled. “Heya hon.”

“Hiya, Rheika.” Fearless replied. She looked between the other two women. “You uh…wanna tell me what I’m doing here? What we’re all doing here? Why are you in Kugane anyway, I thought you were busy coordinating with the Bozjans?”

Rheika waved her off. “Things are currently cooled off there. Gave me a chance to deal with another matter. Remember those mercenary gangs that kept coming after you every so often?”

“The ones my parents kept sending after me? Of course I do. But they stopped. The last one was that Ala Mhigan outfit, right after the liberation. They confessed when they realized I was a Warrior of Light and said they would tell them they couldn’t find me. Why, did something happen?”

Rheika nodded. “A few days ago, Makoto’s people stumbled onto evidence that a mercenary group called the Emerald Marauders had arrived in Kugane in secret. Nasty bunch operating out of the fringes of the Shroud. She brought in a few of their people, and they confessed under interrogation that they’d been hired to retrieve someone. Someone that matched an old description of you.”

Fearless stood, slamming her hands onto the table. “Did they say where the rest of them are? We have to take them down, I’m not letting these scum-“

Rheika held her hands up “Hold on, let me finish, girl.”

Fearless sat down, but the determined and angry look on her face didn’t go away.

“The Sekiseigumi raided the warehouse they gave up. This warehouse, actually. The Marauders….did not go quietly. You can imagine how things went down. The Sekiseigumi killed them all”

Fearless turned to Makoto “Did anyone get hurt? Please tell me no one died!”

Makoto smiled lovingly at her. She would never stop being in love with her and her caring heart. “No, my love. A few minor wounds, nothing our healers couldn’t handle.”

Fearless sighed in relief, then turned back to Rheika. “All right. What happened next?

Rheika continued on. “After everything went down, they started going through the papers the mercs had left behind. They found copies of letters…sent to your parents. Ones that told them everything about you. What you’d done as a Warrior of Light, what you were capable of, and worst of all, who you lived with. These people knew you were in love with two women, and they passed that information back to your parents.”

Fearless gripped both of her girlfriends hands. “Oh, Twelve. If they decide leak that…”

Rheika shook her head. “Not good. But they also got greedy. They tried to shake your parents down for more money. Claimed that you were too tough and had too many allies for them to risk it at the previous fee. They demanded double.”

“Doesn’t matter how much they ask for, cause thei diots were never going to collect.” Ranaa snarled.

“They also found a reply from your father. Among a whole lot of language calling their claims about your deeds and strengths nothing more than lies, it was also full of veiled threats, and a notice that he was coming to Kugane to personally oversee your capture. He told them the exact day and time to expect him….and it was the afternoon of the same day as the raid”

Fearless looked confused. “Wait…my father is already here? When was this raid??”

Makoto gently squeezed her hand. “It was yesterday, dearest. And we….already handled it”

“What do you mean?? What…what happened?”

Rheika leaned forward. “Makoto called me. She wanted our help dealing with your father without endangering anyone in the city. So Franks, Dahk, and I teleported to the city and we quickly threw a plan together. I’d pose as a member of the Marauders, tell your parents we found out about their leader’s attempt to extort more money from them, and got rid of him and took over the crew. It worked, he bought it. Your mother was there too.”

Fearless’ grip tightened around her girlfriends’ hands, but she didn’t respond. Rheika continued.

“I brought them here, where we had the rest of ‘the marauders’, actually Franks, Dahk, and members of the Sekiseigumi. I separated them from most of their bodyguards to discuss the final plan to capture you, and we took them all down.”

“I gave your folks a choice, sweetie. I told them they were going to leave you alone, permanently. They could do so of their own volition, and never bother you again, or they could refuse and the Sekiseigumi would find them guilty of smuggling weapons into Kugane intended for the Garleans and bar their company’s ships from docking here. I’d recommend the Eorzean Alliance do the same.”

She folded her hands in front of her face, and closed her eyes. “Honestly, I fully expected it would provoke some kind of emotional reaction.Like….maybe faced with the real choice of giving you up forever or having their business ruined, they’d have some kind of epiphany and start to make amends. Maybe scream threats or whatever. But…they didn’t. They just crumbled. Gave up in the face of the loss of their business. I was shocked.”

Rheika reached over and covered Fearless’ hands. “Twelve, honey, I really don’t want to tell you this, but I don’t feel right keeping it from you. Your mom….she said ‘Syhrwyda is dead to us’. I remember being so angry, I wanted to just punch her. Instead I threw it back in her face. Said that ‘Syhrwyda’ died a long time ago, and the woman who rose from her ashes was someone they should have been proud of, and it was disgusting that they wouldn’t be.”

Makoto smiled at Fearless. “The exact words Rheika used were ‘confident, kindhearted, caring, and strong’.”

Rheika chuckled “Yeah, okay, that. Well it’s true. You are all of that. And they’re idiots for not realizing it. Or caring. Anyway, yeah, that’s the whole story. We wanted to tell you together, but we had to wait until Ranaa was available for us to bring her up to speed. Didn’t want to hit you and her with this at the same time.”

Fearless glanced over to Makoto, her face hurt. “Why would you not bring me in? Why keep me out of it until now?”

“I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know how they would react upon seeing you. We felt it was best to keep you out of the situation so we could best control how and when we would stop them. You and I both know you wouldn’t have accepted that, and would place yourself at risk rather than us.”

Fearless looked down again. “No, I probably wouldn’t have. And yeah…you were right. You stopped them without risking any civilians or getting anyone seriously hurt.”

Ranaa wrapped her arms around Fearless’ bicep. “How…how are you doing, baby?”

Fearless turned to her and smiled. “You know what? I’m fine. I’m actually great. Honestly it feels really good knowing it’s over. They never cared what I want, I’m not surprised they didn’t believe what I’ve become, what I’ve done. I was nothing but another tool for them to use. Well, they haven’t been able to hurt me for a long time, and now they can’t ever again. So yeah, I’m good. Honestly? Thank you all for getting them out of my life. You guys are the only family I want or need. So, hey, ramen lunch on me!”

Fearless stood up, smiling, and held out her arms for her girlfriends to take. They both looked over to Rheika, who nodded happily. Ranaa and Makoto stood up and took her arms, and the quartet left the office to enjoy a lovely lunch together.

That evening, Fearless lay in bed at her home in Shirogane, quietly weeping as her lovers held her, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing sounds. Although she was not surprised by this outcome, the finality of that severed bond would likely always be a dull ache as time passed.

[gallavictorious]

Do you think Mickey feels he got closure with terry?

Short answer and based on what we’ve seen so far: not really, no. Or rather: not yet.

Long (and I do mean really quite long) answer below.

Admittedly, writing on this topic now, before we’ve seen how Mickey deals with the aftermath of Terry’s death in the next episode, strikes me as a bit of a fool’s errand, because what we get on Sunday will (probably, hopefully) offer us more insight into how he feels about his dad and their relationship now. But I am fascinated with the subject, so I’m going to go ahead and indulge in rambling, though with the proviso that everything below is a tentative analysis that might well need to be revised once 11x09 has aired. As always, I’m glad of other people’s input, because I suspect I’m nowhere near done forming my opinion on this.

Before we start, I’d like to note that this post solely and specifically addresses how Mickey reacts to his dad and trauma on the show; it’s not a statement on how actual live trauma victims should or should not relate to their abusers. That really, really isn’t for me to say. Okay?

All right, then. Let’s get to it:

Following 10x12 I thought that Mickey was pretty much done with Terry; as far as he was concerned, that bridge was burned once Terry burned down The Bamboo Lotus, and even though they must have reached some sort of unspoken cold war type of truce (ie not actively trying to kill one another) Mickey seemed content to ignore his dad. No more asking for advice; no more helping out with various “jobs”; no more attempts at some semblance of a relationship, be it a cordial one or a murderous one. What we got in 11x06 didn’t really change that: seeing Terry thus weakened understandably stirred a lot of emotion in Mickey but both his choice not to kill his dad and his choice to eventually help him have arguably less to do with Terry or Mickey’s relationship to him, and more to do with what sort of person Mickey wants to be. At that point, he chooses to be a man stepping away from his father’s hateful legacy, wanting to be better than that. (And by God, Mickey dearest, you are so much better than that.) And that could have been the end of it, you know? That could have been closure of a sort – not in the sense that it in any way healed the wounds of the past, but in the sense that it signified Mickey finding a way to live with the hurt that allows him to move forward.

Now, we knew (from the episode descriptions) this wasn’t the end of their story, but I was still surprised by Mickey’s overt preoccupation with Terry in 11x08. This isn’t just someone doing the (more than) decent thing to be a decent person, this is genuine concern for Terry’s welfare – and while part of it might be tied to the ingrained idea that “family is family” and while Mickey is still very much aware of the fact that Terry is an utter piece of shit, it’s very hard not to read this as Mickey – once more, and probably without fully acknowledging it– being driven by a latent wish for his father’s approval, that need for connection. (As I’ve argued before, I think that’s why Ian’s not necessarily very enthusiastic about Mickey’s dedication, even though he thinks everyone should receive aid and even though he probably is quite taken with Mickey being so caring.)

But while I didn’t really see it coming, I do like it. I get why you’d rather have him finally and vocally and possibly violently denounce his dad; it’d be cathartic, surely, for a lot of people to see that. But to me, what we get feels truer to the complex push and pull of their fractured bond and is quite frankly more interesting to me because it is messy and complicated and unfinished. Terry is a nightmare; he’s still Mickey’s dad; the relationship between an abusive parent and a child is often highly complex, and I think the show has done a consistently good job of showing that. 11x08 is no exception. You might think Mickey should tell his dad to fuck of once and for all because Terry doesn’t deserve Mickey’s time or devotion (I mean, he really doesn’t), but I find it highly realistic that Mickey would opt for this instead now that it’s a possibility. (It’s relevant to note, I think, that Mickey only allows himself to approach Terry again when Terry is helpless and not in a position to actually harm him; Mickey’s ultimately in control here, and I think that’s very important.)

So yeah, I think Mickey is searching for something from his dad still, but I don’t think he quite gets it. Can’t get it, really.

See, I believe that Terry, to some small degree at least, regrets not having a better relationship with Mickey: that’s how I read “you’d probably have made a half-decent son”. However, his regret isn’t tied to any notions of “I wish I’d been better and given another chance I’d try to do things differently” but instead an expression of “yeah, it suck’s that you’re gay so I had to hate you”. It’s not an acceptance of responsibility or even a vague hint of being willing to change or to accept Mickey for who he is, and because of that – because Terry is not willing or able to change and because Mickey will no longer accept anything less – Mickey’s potential but unvoiced dreams of reconciliation cannot be fulfilled. (And let’s be clear: even if Terry did repent and changed and made what amends he could that doesn’t undo or make up for the damage he has done and Mickey has zero obligation to forgive him or spend even another second in his company.)

So it’s not enough – what could be? – but it is something. A grudging acknowledgment of Mickey’s good qualities, an admission that he is desirable as a son – or would be, if it weren’t for that one thing. :/ It’s recognition and rejection all wrapped into one, and I really like Mickey’s response: he makes it clear that he knows that he’s not the problem here and that he’s fully aware of what an evil bastard Terry is but that he still chooses to be there; chooses to feed Terry and find him a nurse, rather than scoop his eyeballs out or piss on him or use his mouth for a fucking ashtray.

It reminds me of a passage from the Swedish novel Beartown by Fredrik Backman: “She will hold all the power in that moment, but she will spare him. She doesn’t forgive, she doesn’t pardon, she merely spares him. He will always know it.” (2017[2016]:466, my translation.)

It’s remarkable too, I find, that Mickey doesn’t try to hide his hurt here: he allows himself to be vulnerable, to let his father see the pain he has caused. And Terry doesn’t pounce on it; he doesn’t scorn Mickey’s “weakness” or argue with his denunciation; he accepts the judgement and opens his mouth to accept the food without further protest, accepting – in that moment, at least – what Mickey chooses to give him. He concedes his loss of power and his dependance on the son he tortured and disowned. (But it’s not like he gives fully either – there’s no apology, no thanks, no actually asking for help: he just opens his mouth. It’s a lot for Terry, and I think we can acknowledge that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is an utter and total asshole – and I’m glad that the show didn’t have him do more, because that would have felt… unlikely to me.)

It’s such a small thing, and so far less than what Mickey deserves, but probably more than he expected at this point. In time I think it will be helpful to him, to have gotten even this much, but at the time of Terry’s death I’d argue that it adds to rather than lessens Mickey’s burden. Because it’s possible that this could serve as a bookend to their relationship: not a reconciliation but as much of peace as they’ll ever know – eyes lifted to momentarily meet across the abyss in one brief instance of seeing, and being seen by, one another. But going only by what we get in 11x08 I don’t think that this is quite it, and rather than Mickey (in the moment) taking this as the final word or where they stand I think that he – in spite of everything Terry has done – can’t help but think of this exchange as an opening, the potential start of something. Not sure it’s a conscious thing, or how comfortable he is with this notion, because of course he is still very angry with and hates his dad, but consider the way he keeps looking at his phone and insisting they check back in with the nurse: that’s not the actions of someone who has laid things to rest and let it go, that’s Mickey doubling down on being a concerned son and… Yeah. As things stand, I tend to think that he was hoping against hope that maybe, possibly–

And then Terry is dead and Mickey is left with all of his conflicting emotions and nothing to do with them. It’d have been easier, probably, if it hadn’t been for that tiny, tiny softening; that small flare of hope I think Mickey might be quite angry with himself for feeling, if he admits to feeling it at all. It’d be easier if he could just hate Terry, you know?

Now, we don’t know what Mickey would have done if Terry (and that’s a big fucking if) had ever indicated any actual regret. But whether Mickey would have wanted that opportunity to rekindle a relationship with his father or if he’d have used to spit in Terry’s face and spend five hours telling him why Mickey would never forgive him and felt nothing but hatred and revulsion for him, that choice was forever and finally taken from him.

However, I don’t think this means that Mickey won’t find closure; I believe he will, and I think – hope – that we’ll get to see some of that in the next episode. Because the thing about Terry not being willing or able to change means that he would never have been able to give Mickey what he truly needed anyway (and as mentioned, even if he did change there’s no undoing his crimes). It was always going to come down to Mickey finding a way to live with the scars; finding a way to make some sort of peace with the past (which doesn’t have to include making peace with Terry at all) and to let it be the past. He doesn’t strictly speaking need Terry for that and given what an asshole Terry is, maybe it’s actually easier to manage it when he’s not around to fuck it up.

So yeah. It’s not likely to be sweet or neat or even very conclusive – these things rarely are and recovery is a process – but I think that Mickey will get some closure one way or another, and I believe that in the end he’ll be glad for the tiny moment they shared just before Terry’s death, even if it’s a complicating factor now.

(It should also be noted that Terry isn’t horrible just as an evil response to Mickey being gay; he was plenty horrible to him and the rest of his kids outside of that too. Consider Mickey listing the awful things Terry did when Mickey was just a kid; consider Mandy telling Debbie in season 5 that she learned how to cover up a bruise form living with Terry. The attempted murder(s) and corrective rape and disowning Mickey was a result of Terry’s virulent homophobia, but he was an awful father long before he knew Mickey was gay. So even without the homophobia, there’d be a hell of a lot to hate him for.)

There’s certainly more to say on this topic, and I think that we’ll have reason to return to it come Sunday - but for now, that’s most of my thoughts, I think.

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

–> Pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

–> Rating:  R

–> Genre/warnings:  M U C H  A N G S T; y’all I even cried while writing this sksksk why do I torture myself like this; slightly graphic mentions of dead people, mentions of blood, super slight gore; suggestive language, SMUT AGAIN (voyeurism, shit why do i expose myself too much, petting, unprotected sex, kitchen sex) 

–> Word count: 8.8k

–> A/N: Korean vocabulary used will be placed at the end of the chapter :-) Also, all history indicated here is fictitious, then again, it is fan fiction after all. ALSO, GOOD LUCK WITH THE END OF THE CHAPTER ;) tell me whatcha think!!!

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 2

The warmth in the room makes you stir in bed, the sun’s rays attempting to peek through the paper windows creating too much discomfort for you to continue your beloved slumber. As you turn your body, you see a scroll accompanied by a carnation on your bedside table. Hastily reaching for the scroll, your other hand clutches onto the blanket to cover your chest.

Your stomach drops. With trembling hands, you open the message. No, No, No. NO!  

“My love,

Truthfullly, I do not know where to begin, nor do I know why I am writing this in the first place. What I can be somehow certain of is that I do not have full confidence that my plans shall come into fruition. I guess this letter shall provide me with the least solace for my judgments. The matters of the south have cost me sleepless nights and days, moments that I could regrettably have spent with you, and for that I am truly sorry. It pains me that you might have perceived last night a selfish act to heed to the wants of the flesh but know that every word I have uttered during our throes of passion was not made in jest.

I will not have to lie – you carrying my children, the two of us finally creating a family – the thought alone gives me unparalleled happiness. In the near future, I desire twelve children with you representing the twelve lunar animals, that is, if you allow me to do so. I will be satisfied with eleven, if you must.

Great is the pain that I have to bear with my decision, but great too is the weight of my duties to my country. You of all people have reminded me of that. It is treason against the country for me not to find a way to make amends, yet is treason against my heart to have left you like this.

Alas, I too am scared myself with this journey that I must take, but your love and prayers shall give me strength. My queen, I ask you to not worry much for I did not come unprepared, for I have brought with me the greatest warriors known to our nation, and they shall stand by my side, should the time come that our peaceful exertions shall lead to one of violence.

If, however, may our ancestors and the gods forbid, that the circumstances shall not permit me to return to you, the only love of my life, I cannot ask you remain alone without me in this cruel world because that would be most selfish of me. Live and indulge yourself in the pleasures of life, my dove, continue your flight in this world even if it no longer has me in it.

If I truly have gone for good, I want you to be happy. I am begging you to be happy. Find a man that shall love you from the tiny mole by your forehead to the tips of your toes. Find a man that shall cherish you for your entire being, find someone that shall bestow upon you love more than you deserve, just as you have done the same to me and to the people around you.

Let this reassurance console you that the happiest days of my life have been from your love and affection, and that I die loving only you and with a fervent hope that our souls shall be reunited after this and will have to part no more. Just because I would have passed away does not mean I am not with you, I will always be here looking over you, keeping you safe. Should the day come that you succumb to the sadness of my loss, just close your eyes and I will be by your side in an instant.

This is goodbye to your kisses that shall continue to linger on my lips even if I could not have them again. This is goodbye to your caresses that have kept me warm during the harsh, cold winters. This is goodbye to your endless patronizing that has grounded me through the many decisions I had to make. And finally, this is goodbye to you, my angel, my sweet carnation.

With every word written comes forth a tear, and I fear that I may not finish this letter without wetting the entire page. I will have to leave shortly, and now I will leave your security to the hands of our new captain. He has my trust.

Know that I would have traded a decade of my life just to spend ten more breaths with you. I love you, my queen, with all that I was, with all that I am, and with all that I ever will be.

Seokjin”

A loud, broken sob escapes your lips. Your cheeks become wet with tears, visible wet patches staining your blanket. You let yourself fall back to the bed, body crumpling in anguish. How could you have let him go? You curse at yourself for letting sleep take over you again earlier, when he was already at arm’s reach, so close to forbid him from leaving.

You stay like that on the bed for a few moments, body quaking with distress and clutching onto the piece of paper close to your chest. This was it. Although there was still a part of you that Seokjin will come home to you in one piece, your brain is already betraying you with images of your husband covered in blood, left lifeless in the middle of the road.

Crying harder at the image, you try to muffle them with your blankets that vaguely smell of Seokjin. Your chest constricts. You already know he had intentions of visiting the south even with your constant reminders of the dangers of the south. Your heart clenches when you recall the one time you had argued about it.

‘It’s a lost cause, Seokjin.’ You already felt that one thing was going to lead to another and this conversation was definitely going to end up in an argument.

“What I am I supposed to do here then? Stand and join festivities while my own people are being attacked by rebellious troops? While riots occur on the daily? While there are people dying of hunger on the streets?”

“No! I- That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what am I to do then?!”

“I just—If you go there…” You hiccup, unable to continue when your lips start to tremble. You choke as you suppress a sob, covering your face with your hands as you start to bawl your heart out. Seokjin flees toward you, apologizing profusely as he had probably scared you with the risen pitch of his voice. “Shhh,” he engulfs you in a hug, pulling you close to him.

You begin to calm down after some time, the warmth of Seokjin’s body easily consoling you. Your husband doesn’t let go when you finally catch your breath and your grip tightens around his waist, creasing his durumagi.

With your voice slightly muffled as your mouth is pressed against your husband’s chest, you continue talking, knowing that Seokjin will have no problem comprehending your words. “I’ve lost everyone because of them Seokjin. My father, my real mother, my friends…” you sniff, wiping your cheeks with the sleeves of your jeogori. “Please,” you beseech, “I can’t lose you to them too,” your voice cracks at the thought, eyes brimming with tears once more.

“I won’t let that happen, love.” He doesn’t know that.

You feel your chest starting to heave again, Seokjin slowly guides you to the bed, seats you both, and lets you lay your head on his lap as he rests his own on the wall adjacent to the bed. Gently, he strokes your hair until you finally, truly calm down this time, silent tears now rolling down your cheeks.

The words are heavy on your lips, every emotion rolling off your tongue as you say the words you dread the most. “They’re going to kill you Seokjin.” You take his hand and rest it against your cheek, his hand still seemingly larger with the way your two hands are clutching onto it. You continue with bated breath, “Maybe even before you enter the southern gates, maybe even before you get a single step out of the capitol...” Your voice comes down to a whisper when you repeat your earlier words. “They are going to kill you.”

You tilt your head a little to take a good look at your husband. You see the faint stubble just under his chin. He probably hasn’t shaved yet with the lack of free time on his hands. Shamelessly, you always imagine what he’d look like with a beard but you’re willing to bet your life that he’d be just as handsome as he is now. He keeps on shaving it, much to your dismay, countering that he doesn’t want you to feel and discomfort or itch when he kisses you. You’ll have to leave your bearded Seokjin fantasies somewhere in the future. If the future still has Seokjin in it.

In the past, the five major cities of Korea never got along. It was more of an unspoken rivalry for years on end between the kings and their subjects. People from the east took pride on their agricultural lands and livestock, the westerners’ livelihood depends heavily on lumber, northerners brag about their coal mining and fishery, the south leads the nation’s masonry and defense, and finally, the capitol is the center of textile and is otherwise known as the home of the scholars.

Combined together, this nation would have been unconquerable. But these royals are still human beings and human beings are vulnerable to temptation, constantly fueled by the idea of acquiring something that another does not have.

Unfortunately, a nation with citizens that had no sense of nationalism was the perfect target, the easiest to penetrate for the colonizers. The promises of an alliance to a foreign nation seemed to great an offer to decline. Fools. Just like that, the foreigners tricked each king to go against the other cities – their own people, their own blood. Empty promises drilled into empty heads. Blinded by inane vows of wealth and power, these people who call themselves leaders never knew they were being deceived altogether.

That is, until King Seokwoo of the capitol, Seokjin’s father, realized the deception early enough to stop the war but too late to pacify the nation’s internal turmoil. With his heart and dignity on the line, the brave king of the capitol had gone to the other kings to make them realize their mistakes, their greed, and their shameless thirst for power.

Nobody wanted to believe him at first, not when he too was a part of it all. He apologized in court – the one thing a king never does. He put his pride on the line for the country he loves, bowing his head in front of the other kings, and their respective advisors. King Seokwoo knew he was going to lose his credibility like this with his heart and pride on his sleeve, but only he knew, and only he understood, that a king should not be loyal to the throne and the power it holds, but to his country.

Only when he revealed the scrolls of plans he stole from the colonizers that they collectively decided to temporarily set aside their present caprices and decree a pact for the good of the nation. For once in a very long time, the kings had agreed on one thing.

That night, they had agreed to choose a king to lead the fight against the colonizers – the king who would lead Korea back to greatness. Three kings, in honor of Seokwoo’s bravery and humility, chose him to be the leader of the nation. Only one king of a city voted against Seokwoo as King of Korea – your father.

“My Queen?” A soft voice calls from outside your door. Haesoo.  

“Leave, Haesoo.”

“Jungjeon-mama, please. You have not left your room all morning, and lunch—”

“I said leave!”

You recoil the moment the words spill from your mouth. You hadn’t meant to snap at her, she was your favorite court lady after all. She was stubborn, above all things, and you likened her to your younger self that’s why she earned your favor the most. But her adamancy only causes her more trouble, especially in times like these. Perhaps her slight insensitivity came with her youth? You’re certain that you’ve caused worry because of your audible wailing earlier, but company was the last thing you needed right now.

“Yes my Queen.” She replies, voice small.

You don’t know how long you stay in bed like that, watching your chest rise and fall under the covers with every breath. Your head is swirling in emotions – fear, anger, misery. As you continue to stare into the ceiling, your stomach grumbles so you deem it wise that you have at least one meal for today - just enough to satiate your hunger and give you strength to face the rest of the day. But not before indulging yourself in your favorite bath first.

You stay much longer in the bath today – letting the water cause wrinkles in the pads of your fingers. Shoving your husband’s image to the back of your head temporarily, your thoughts drift to other the other predicaments you have to face while Seokjin is away. ‘You have to be strong,’ you mutter to yourself. For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.

The court ladies get startled when you suddenly rise from the pool, one of them hurriedly draping a towel over you. You let her lead the way to a dressing room where your royal garments are neatly folded on a table. Staring at your reflection on the mirror, your eyes linger on the red marks littered across your torso. You feel your chest constrict one more time. Taking a deep breath, you repeat to yourself. ‘For Seokjin. For the future. For Korea.’

Chaeyoung waits until you have worn your undergarments and helps you with the rest of your hanbok. You can feel the nervousness radiating off her, clammy hands tying the ribbons on your dress. You can’t really blame her; this was probably the first time they have seen you this cold and distant. You usually made small talk with the court ladies, genuinely curious about their individualities and because they’re the closest you can get to your subjects.

Certainly, Seokjin’s leave also has the whole palace on edge. Everybody was aware of what was going on in the south, and with their king’s sudden absence this morning, word has been going around in the palace. You’re thankful that the palace workers are discreet with their whispering, but these wooden walls were never thick enough to maintain secrecy between two people.

You leave the room as soon as Chaeyoung finishes and you come face to face with a familiar red and white uniform. “Wangbi,” Captain Jung greets as he bows his head. “Captain.” You acknowledge, finding yourself looking up at him when you do so – he was taller than you expected him to be.

“I am under the King’s orders to watch you wherever you go, my Queen.” He tails after you when you start walking.

“And does that include the private royal baths Captain?” You turn to face him again.

He gets flustered at your question, quickly averting his gaze from you. Looking down, the captain shakes his head, muttering under his breath something along the lines of ‘security’ and ‘king’s orders’.

You don’t know what urged you to tease him like that – probably because of his innocent-like features that makes him so tease-worthy, but since his arrival and inauguration as captain of the royal guards, you can’t help but get drawn to the man. Sure, he was attractive with attributes of youthful exuberance on his face, that, and that he was a finely built man, taut muscles hiding underneath those silken robes. At least, that’s what you presume from listening to the whispers among the court ladies.

They also said he’s had quite the reputation from where he came from in the East, famous for his looks and even more famous for his ways of luring skirts to his bed. So, you’ve heard. Genuinely surprised at how these rumors even came out in the first place, it still makes you laugh when you recall the obscenity of it all, despite the court ladies supposedly being the spitting image of modesty observed in the palace.

The rumors are true. You could easily attest to that as you have personally witnessed it once, how the captain could easily captivate women with his face alone. But his charm wasn’t the reason why you seem to magnetize towards the captain.

During their inauguration day, as you were too preoccupied with how dashing your husband looks in official robe, you hadn’t been paying attention to the event, let alone the emotional speech that the captain shared to the crowd. It was only when you caught sight of the scar on his left cheek that got you so curious. You wonder where you’ve seen that scar before. He looks familiar. He feels familiar. You can’t put a finger on it right now, but you certainly feel like you’ve known Jung Jungkook from somewhere, sometime in your past.

You don’t realize you’re lost in your thoughts when a hand suddenly pulls you back by your elbow, stopping you from walking straight to a wall. “Jungjeon-mama!” The lady beside you exclaims. “My Queen, are you okay?” The captain behind you asks, his grip now loosening on your elbow. You nod sheepishly, dismissing the whole fiasco with an awkward cough.

“You can go ahead, Chaeyoung. I’ll be back by sunset. Make sure dinner is ready by then.” The court lady nods curtly in acknowledgment and bows before leaving the both of you. You turn your head to look at Jungkook who continues to stand by your side. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, your Highness.”

You plan on spending the rest of your day in one of the most serene places in the palace. Besides yours and Seokjin’s garden, the doltap shrine is another place you head to for peace and quiet. The shrine, complete with a mini pavilion, is situated on a small hill, surrounded by the beauty of nature – a place so perfectly serene that only monks and royalty are allowed to visit to maintain its tranquility.

It’s significantly father than any other house or office in this palace that it requires quite a tedious, long walk and a boat ride across the Gaeun river. This is why you rarely visit the shrine, but on the days that you do, the wearisome trek is always rewarding. It’s perhaps part of the whole process of meditation, you presume, as the shrine is a place where you offer your greatest, deepest prayers.

The captain trudges behind you, unable to cope with your leisurely pace. He quickens his steps when he sees he’s falling behind, but when he deems he’s walking too close to you he slows his pace once more until he has to catch up again. You become curious at his strange feat, unable to stop yourself from asking him about it.

“Captain, have you not taken a leisurely walk like this before?”

“My deepest apologies, Mama. I am really not used to a pace like this.”

Who knew the greatly feared captain could be so mildly…amusing? Jungkook gets surprised when you let out a giggle after having stared at him for a moment at his confession. He is unable to stop the small smile etching into his face at the beautiful sound, deciding it’s something he wants to hear all day long.

“You are a mirthful one, Jung.”

There is a skip in the man’s heartbeat when he hears you say his surname – or, at least, the surname he’s been using since his arrival at the capitol. He supposes it satisfactory that he’s made you comfortable around him, enough for you to call him by his alias. Not like you were going to be on a first name basis anyways. Jungkook found it easier to keep up with your pace after your verdict.

You were beautiful. Well, you still are, and probably will be for a very long time. He wonders if you already had your portrait painted. It used to be a hobby he thoroughly learned and enjoyed from where he’s from and now it has blossomed into a business around his past village, selling portraits for a few silver coins. He takes pride in his paintings, having learned the skill from the virtuoso himself – his father. He was the first man in Korea to add colors to a drawing, bringing forth life to an inanimate illustration.

Even if Jungkook painted you though, it would probably be useless for him to do so, because a portrait - even if done on the finest paper or painted with the brightest colors, could never capture your real beauty, nor give justice to it. In the past, he had heard stories of what the queen of the capitol looked like, but none of these rumors had prepared him for the genuineness of it all. Your beauty was indescribable, but Jungkook only knew one description that fit you the best – that you are the epitome of a woman’s unadulterated pulchritude.

Jungkook could not question why the king is absolutely smitten with you, admittedly, the rest of the nation is. If you were a lady that belonged to the same class, he would have tried to capture your heart from the very start. Maybe in another life, perhaps. But to him, it wasn’t just your pretty face that made you so riveting.

Unlike any other woman in the nation, you were headstrong, refusing to submit to the societal morals and principles. You were the only woman who would stand proud and tall amongst a sea of men, and one gaze from you had the power to intimidate both man and woman alike. Undoubtedly, you were raised like that: to be the queen – with your childhood nurtured with doctrines and routines only afforded to a king in the making. That fact he knew all too well.

When you look to your left, he spots a red mark on your neck, just below the smooth slope of your jawline. He flushes at the sight of the rose-colored blotch staring back at him, the base of his neck turning red at the recollection of the events last night. Jungkook can see your lips moving as you talk but he can’t seem to hear you, let alone take his eyes off the love bite on your neck.

“Captain Jung?”

Jungkook coughs to mask his surprise, “Sorry, Jungjeon-mama. I thought I saw something in the woods. It must’ve been a squirrel or a small animal.” You nod your head in acknowledgement and reply, “We still must be wary. There are…people…who do not mean well…” your words fade, voice cracking at the thought of your husband. Jungkook notices your anxiety.

“I will protect you with my life, my Queen. Please do not worry.”

“Of course, Captain Jung. I believe you.” Giving him a small smile, you continue walking, your shoes softly squishing against the green dewy grass. It’s a beautiful day today: the sky is clear and the sun is out, compared to your heart which is now clouded with storms and thunder. You shall try not to dwell on your emotions today.

“So, enlighten me Captain.”

“Ah, but Mama, my life may not measure up to yours in terms of adventure.”

You raise an eyebrow at his reply. Your life story isn’t known to many, even a number of the citizens don’t even know you are a southerner. Gazing into Jungkook’s eyes, you look for any mysterious truth hiding beneath them, but you’re only faced with his curious doe-like eyes. You’re conflicted if you’re supposed to feel disappointed or not if he was truly a part of your past, but you’ll have to leave that for another time.

“Surely, it can’t be that uninteresting.”

“If you insist, Jungjeon-mama. But don’t complain if you fall asleep before we reach the shrine.” The captain knows he’s pushing the line by teasing you like this, but the way you roll your eyes at him tells him you feel otherwise.

He tells the story he’s practiced endless times lacing a few truths from his past. “Well, I belong to a family of four. My parents work in the fields and my brother and I would play in them all day long until my mother would call us back in for supper. During the Great Colonization, my father used to serve King Donggeun of the East…” He steps aside to make way, a hand shooting out to help you to an elevated part of the head of the bridge. You place your hand on his gratefully, your feet taking quite the leap.

He continues with his monologue, “My mother always told us that she never thought father would never survive the Great Colonization. Even before the pact, there had already been attacks on the borders, the rivalry too much for people who call themselves citizens of the same nation. He had come home greatly wounded one night and my mother was crying so much that she could barely treat my father’s wounds. He had even offered her a literal bloody hand with the treatment, causing my mother to cry more, complaining about how he could have found pleasantries at such a grievous time.”

“Thankfully, the pact has been completed before things ultimately became worse. He was called to fight again to drive off the colonizers, but with the people from all the cities fighting as one force, casualties from our troops were only at the minimum. He has fought side by side with King Deonggeun and even saved the late king’s life at one instance. He had been promoted to a higher rank since then.” He pauses his narrative momentarily when your hand hooks around his elbow, clutching onto him as you go down a light slope to where a narrow dock is situated.

The captain tries not to be obvious about his astonishment at your actions as he places his hand over it, supporting your balance when you place a foot inside the boat. “But with a promotion in the military ranks comes more visits in the palace, and more visits in the palace only lead to one thing: King Donggeun taking an interest in my mother.” Your hand flies to your mouth to mask your shock. And just moments ago, he thought his life wasn’t supposedly as colorful as yours?

When Jungkook finally seats himself, he grabs at the oars and starts to row. It would have been fun if Haesoo had gone with, as you would inevitably tease her with her ogling the captain. She would’ve gushed at how his muscles must ripple underneath the uniform, or how his chest puffs out with every row. As your favorite court lady occupies your thoughts, you reckon that you owe her an apology later.  

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened next?” The captain lets out a chuckle at your wide-eyed curiosity. “Of course, Mama. I am a man of manners. A story must have a beginning and an end.”

“King Donggeun tried to conceal his feelings at first. But the rumored loss of his wife was too great of a sadness for him to bear. And he longed for the kind of comfort only a woman could give. Soon enough, father noticed the king’s longing looks, knowing all too well the sentiments the king hid behind his eyes. After all, he too was a man in love and a firm believer of the famous saying ‘the eyes are windows to our souls’.” The captain says the words with such drama that you fail to suppress the giggle that escapes your lips. Jungkook’s own lips twitch, chest beaming with pride with the fact that he has made you laugh twice today.

“Things kept in hiding will always come out, one way or another. And so, the king ended up confessing his feelings to my mother. He had begged her to be his concubine, even when they both knew she was tied to another. She fled from the king’s arms that night in fear and confusion, telling the whole confession to my father with teary eyes.”

The captain slows his rowing, creating small ripples against the clear water.

“That same night, my father learned that love meant having to constantly make sacrifices for the better, even if we end up losing that which matters most in our hearts. What the king wants, the king gets,” the captain’s lips fall into a tight-lipped smile. “There was too much at risk, my father couldn’t say no to his own king. Needless to say, even if we did eventually get to live nearer the palace, mother’s visits became less frequent, and soon our mother became only a figment of our imagination.”

Each word of the captain struck at your heart. You had never expected so many shared similarities in your past. His eyes are swimming with emotion. Not once had you seen a royal guard like this, looking so vulnerable, so human in front of your eyes.

“With nothing to lose, the three of us left the eastern city and headed to the capitol. We begged for food and slept on the streets for days until a family took pity and welcomed us into their home. When the father of the family introduced himself as a royal guard, my father offered his services as payment for their kindness.”

When you’ve reached the other side of the river, Jungkook sets the oars aside before guiding you up to the dock. You wait under the shade of a nearby tree until he’s fixated the boat properly onto the dock. He approaches you, dusting his pants with his hands. “Where were we? Ah. The kind family. I, too, have also had a realization here in the capitol. Happiness does not last for long, so we have to learn how to live each day with glee and gratitude.” You both continue the walk, with each step getting closer to your destination.

“A few days after our arrival, my brother caught this incurable illness. We had consulted every physician in the city, but all our efforts were in vain. My father and I had to lay him to rest just when we thought we had started a new life here in the capitol.”

“My father? Like I had mentioned during our inauguration, my father sacrificed his life for his country. Because he loves our nation, and because he loves us. All he wanted was a bright future for me, and for my mom as well, though he’d never admit that out loud. He never stopped loving her, even when she exchanged her family for the kind of life we could never give her.”

“Well, Mama. Are you sufficiently enlightened now?” You stay quiet at first, reciting a prayer to the gods and to your ancestors and you place another stone on the pile of rocks.

“I am Jungkook. I am.”

The journey to the south was filled with dread from the very start. The troop left the capital in silence, every man anxious of what is to come. Or rather, who awaits their coming. Seokjin had not said anything before they exited the gates of the capital because he knew words of encouragement would have done nothing to soothe the disquietude evident amongst them. The company had chosen to take a shortcut through the woods, one that will allow them to reach their destination within a shorter period of time.

They already have been traveling for quite some time, yet it feels like they have been for days. There are far fewer villages near the woods where there are to pass, but Seokjin had not expected this particular village to be so different from the others.

Dust rises when the horses halt, Seokjin abruptly putting up his fist in the air. It’s eerily quiet. Empty stalls of goods stand with no merchant behind them. Houses feel empty, with no person coming out and about. A gust of wind passes them, like an omen being whispered into their ears. The hairs at the back of Seokjin’s neck rise.

“What happened here?” A guard from the front asks.

“Jeonha, look!” Another shouts, pointing to a nearby house. A boy comes forth and walks, limps rather, towards them. Seokjin dismounts from his horse and takes a few steps forward. He lets the child come to him, the king lowering on his knees to receive the child. The child approaches Seokjin with a steady pace and with one final step left, he loses all his strength and falls. Luckily, Seokjin’s reflexes are quick enough so he catches the child before he falls to the ground.

“It’s quiet now,” the child mumbles. He takes a deep breath, body quaking with exertion as he does. “They came here…took everything…killed everyone and…s-south,” Seokjin holds him tighter as the boy’s breathing shallows, “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He consoles, tears swelling in his eyes as he gently rocks the child in his arms. The boy’s chest stops heaving and he finally closes his eyes. The king’s fingers fly to the child’s neck, looking for a pulse. None. Seokjin’s brows come together in anger, his beautiful face contorting into one of rage.

He stands, the boy in his arms now seemingly smaller and lighter than before. “Namjoon, with me. The rest of you, check the village. See if anybody is still alive, go over every house, every room, every corner. If you see a southerner lurking around, bring him to me.” Seokjin orders. “And I’ll execute him myself.”

As the troop disperses, Seokjin commands Kim Namjoon to look for a shovel and follow him to nearby open lot afterwards. Thankfully, the king doesn’t need to tell the guard what to do. As Namjoon digs a hole, Seokjin gently lays the child on a wooden bench while he looks for a cloth to wrap him in. His heart breaks for this child – that the young boy had to go through so much at such a young age, and now at the time of his death, he couldn’t even be afforded with proper burial rites.

The burial was shorter than expected and Seokjin ends the rite with a prayer to his ancestors and the gods above. The pair sit beside the child’s makeshift resting place for a while, both in deep contemplation. Their reverie is cut short when another guard calls from behind, “Jeonha,” he calls again, breathless, “there is something you must see.”

He leads the pair through the woods and towards a small clearing, where the troop has gathered around. “What’s this?” Seokjin takes his steps cautiously, the group beginning to make way for the king. Once the path clears, Seokjin stops in his tracks. From his peripheral, he sees Namjoon’s failed attempt to not gag at the scene before them.

The villagers. The stench. The message.

Seokjin tries to close his eyes, wanting to forget he even saw something this terrible. But no, the image has already etched itself into his memory forever. He can’t even imagine what type of human would have the guts to do this…monstrosity?

Scattered across the clearing are the villagers, stacked on top of each other, the formation with a similarity uncanny with the rock formation in front of them. The villagers were piled behind the doltap, where one muddy hand from each pile reaches out, holding a scroll with the words written with the villager’s own blood. “You can never keep us out.”

Seokjin’s hands ball into fists as he realizes what instigated this massacre. During the height of the turmoil in the south, he had sent out a proclamation weeks ago to implore the entire nation to remain strong and as one amidst these trying times which put their patriotism to the test.

The doltap is a stack of stones, usually erected at village entrances – a natural representation of guardians of the village, keeping away the bad and inviting the good. It had been tradition for people to pile rocks on top of each other along with symbolisms of their intentions placed near the stack.

Since the proclamation, the citizens had been placing more and more objects in front of their shrines, like a bowl of rice grains or the emblem of the south. Inevitably infuriated with this new practice, the southerners wrecked village after village in rage, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake. These people are but a number from the villages they victimized. Seokjin is lucky this is first and only village he will see.

The sky is a purplish pink by the time they have finished the burial rites for the village. “The sun is setting,” Seokjin announces to the group, “we will take shelter and camp there, by the woods. It will not be smart to individually use the houses here.”

Nobody could sleep a wink that night, especially not the king. He supposed no one could ever, not when you had just witnessed such a horrific sight. He continues to stare at the moon, head swarming with endless thoughts. As he rests his head against the bark of the oak tree, Seokjin’s thoughts race to you, what could you possibly be doing in this hour, if you were thinking of him right now. If you’d taken supper or skipped your meals today. You always did that when you were upset, and he had no doubt you were.

“Namjoon,” Seokjin calls to the trusted guard. Namjoon has been like him the whole night, staring into the distance, curious what the future might hold for them.

“Namjoon.” He calls again, this time with a louder voice, successfully getting the younger man’s attention.

“Jeonha,” Namjoon turns, “my sincerest apologies, but the moon seems to have a wonderful glow tonight. Might this be a good sign?” The guard bows, shame coloring his face as he got caught preoccupied with other things on his mind.

“I too fervently wish for that…I…” He was not about to make the same mistake to Namjoon. Seokjin gets frustrated at the thought of always being a step behind the enemy. He’s made this mistake with Minseok, and he wasn’t about to do the same with Namjoon.

“You wanted to say something, my King?”

“I…I just wanted to thank you, for always being loyal to the throne.” Seokjin is all too aware of what the people are saying. They are his people after all. He ought to know them best. They’re blaming him for these agonizing events, if he just hadn’t sent that proclamation, then this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.

“Only because the throne is worth being loyal to.” Namjoon replies, not missing a beat.

“So,” the king moves to a lighter topic, not wanting to ruin the illustrious mood afforded by the bright sky like this night. “how is the romance in your life? Haesoo, is it?”

The younger man gets caught off-guard, startled at the king’s sudden inquiry and knowledge. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, jeonha,” Namjoon looks down, cheeks starting to tinge with a blush. ‘He can’t give this away’, the guard thinks, suddenly all too aware that the king is sitting right beside him. As all of them had taken a pledge of loyalty to throne and the throne alone, so a relationship between workers of the palace was considered taboo, at least, until Seokjin’s reign.

“Namjoon. I am speaking to you as a friend. And even if I did speak to you as king of the nation, who am I to take control of the matters of the heart? You yourself can’t seem to help it. What more of I?”

“Jeonha, please tell me. What does love feel like?”

“Love comes in many forms, my friend. In fact, it’s everywhere. Personally, I think it’s what makes the world go around, if the studies and calculations of astronomer Lee is correct. What we’re doing right now is love, love for our country, our citizens. The memorials we hold for our late relatives is also a commemoration of our love. Love is not exclusive to human relations though, there is love for animals, love for nature…” The king turns to face the young guard who blinks owlishly back at him.

“I know that wasn’t the kind of love you’re asking about. I’m getting there, worry not, my friend. I just needed context.” Seokjin looks away, partly embarrassed at himself. “As I was saying… there is one kind of love however that I treasure the most, and for me, it’s the kind of love that enraptures you the most: the love for a special person. I hate to say this, but it’s something so complex that it’s indescribable. It makes you feel plenty of emotions all at the same time. For instance, when you see her, you feel your heart pumping out of your chest, or sometimes your heart constricts at the realization that she’s yours and yours alone.”

“That wasn’t that much of a help was it?” Seokjin sighs defeatedly.

“Can I be honest with you, jeonha?” The king nods. “No, not really.” The pair chuckle at that, both relieved that at least they found something to laugh about tonight.

Heaving a sigh, Namjoon turns to face him with glossy eyes. “Well, it is unfortunate that we are not lovers then. Yet. Then I shall ask her to be my betrothed, if we come home.”

“When, Namjoon. When we come home.”

The two continue return their eyes to the moon. It looks bigger tonight. Astronomer Lee says bigger moons bring about luck to all those who look upon it, Seokjin fervently hoping that this journey might somehow be in their favor.

You’ve been tossing around in bed for quite some time now, unable to sleep. Perhaps a cup of milk would do the trick, you thought, pulling the covers away from your body. You wrap a robe over the flimsy garment you usually sleep in and head over to the secret door of your room. It’s been specifically designed to blend in with the wall, only to be used in worst-case scenarios.

Sliding the door open, you creep out of your room, dragging your cotton-clad feet against the wooden floor to make minimal sounds. You head to the bridge connecting your hanok to the palace kitchen. You don’t realize you’re too concentrated on not making noise that you don’t notice the body in front of you. “Jungjeon-mama?” the guard asks, peering down at you. “I’ll just get something from the kitchen, I will be quick.” Discretion could only last for so long. He bows and moves out of the way.

Rummaging through the kitchen as quietly as you can, you silently curse at yourself for not bringing a lamp with you, now all you can do is sniff at the vessels of liquid, hoping that you’ll uncover the right one. Thankfully, you manage to choose the right vessel in no time. As your eyes had adjusted to the light, you manage to grab a ladle and a nearby bowl with almost no noise at all.

As you pour yourself some milk, you return the cover and rest your behind against the table.

You figure it’s time to apologize to her. As you open your mouth to call, a male voice beats you to it. “You’re so beautiful.” Mouth parting in mild surprise, your eyes widen, searching for the voice’s owner. You couldn’t make out who’s voice it belonged to as it was said just barely above a whisper, and you continue peeking through the small space when your eyes land on the captain.

Your hand shoots over your mouth as your lips fall wider apart. It’s finally happening! But wait… you stand up straighter in realization. Namjoon? You’ve heard the guard has been harboring affection towards your favorite court lady for quite some time now. Seokjin was first to notice it, pointing out how Namjoon would sneak glances at Haesoo whenever you were together, both parties walking as one. You heart clenches at the perplexity of the situation.

Surely you’re not meant to stay here and watch the spectacle? Milk was what you came here for, you remind yourself, but like always, curiosity gets the best of you. Jungkook takes another step towards Haesoo, who seems frozen at her spot. Do something lady! You watch as the captain slowly reaches out his hand, the back of his fingers gently caressing the lady’s face. Haesoo leans towards the man’s touch.

“May I?” Jungkook asks, eyes searching for any signs of doubt in Haesoo’s. The girl nods curtly and without waiting any further, Jungkook closes the distance between them. Watching their lips move in sync, you take this as your cue to leave, that is, until you hear a pot clanging against the floor. Your line of vision suddenly returns to the couple to check if someone got hurt, only to find out quite the opposite.

Jungkook has already backed up Haesoo to lean against a table adjacent to the wall. The captain lifts her with ease to sit on the table, Haesoo pulling her knees apart so she could properly hold onto the man, her nimble fingers pulling at Jungkook’s hair. The captain starts smothering her with kisses all over her cheeks, jaws, and neck like a frenzied, starved man. You can’t look away, not when Haesoo is failing miserably at her attempt to keep her whimpering at bay.  

Jungkook’s fingers work deftly in undoing the ribbons on her hanbok, lips still trained on lavishing her skin with kisses. As the garment falls easily from Haesoo’s shoulders, Jungkook’s large hand palms her breast while the other is busy kneading the expanse of her thigh. The captain revels in Haesoo’s pliancy, with the girl tilting her head back at Jungkook’s ministrations, begging him for more.  

Her hanbok is completely off her torso now, the silk bunching up at hips. Jungkook takes this moment to take a hardened nipple between his lips and swirling his tongue around it as a hand squeezes the supple flesh of the other. Haesoo mewls at the captain’s actions, back arching, words no longer needed to show what she wants, what she desires.

This is wrong. You aren’t supposed to be watching such a private moment, let along seemingly enjoying it. Like Haesoo earlier, you’re just as frozen in your spot as she was.

You no longer see much of Haesoo torso, considering their proximity, but you see Jungkook’s hand removing itself from the assault on her breasts, traveling to her core. She shivers when Jungkook’s fingers swipes against her folds and raising his fingers under the moonlight seeping through the window, observing how wet the tips of his fingers are due to the court lady’s essence.

“Look at you,” Jungkook murmurs in a low voice, watching the slick coating his fingers. “So wet and ready for me. I bet I’d slip right in hmm?”

“Please,” Haesoo begs, hiding her face between his shoulders in pleading. “I need you.” Jungkook seems to have no problem complying, abruptly bring his pants down to his thighs.

You don’t see much due to the lack of light in the room and their compromising position on the table, but this seems all the more thrilling like this. You reprimand yourself, as if Seokjin was lacking in bed. But you have not tried being intimate anywhere else but your room and his office – and the thought of doing it at such a common place like the kitchen where anyone from the palace could easily enter excites you in the strangest way possible.

Surely you can’t be going crazy, can you? Is it normal to find such a spectacle so strangely arousing? The sight of two lovers getting intimate?

Jungkook gently lays her down on the table, pushing her down by her shoulders. He parts her legs wider before adjusting his stance and slowly thrusting his hips forward. Your jaw slackens the same time with Haesoo. You feel your own nipples harden at the sight, the sensitive buds trying to pry through the material.

He pauses for a moment, letting Haesoo adjust to the feeling as his head tilts back, the lady’s velvety walls clenching wonderfully around his cock. When Haesoo tilts her hips, Jungkook takes this as a sign to start moving, each roll of his hips earning a whimper from the writhing girl beneath him. A few more slow rolls and Jungkook thrusts harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping ricocheting against the walls.

A gasp escapes your mouth when the captain maneuvers her legs to rest against his chest and the two stop at once, heads shooting up to look for where the voice came from. Haesoo winces when Jungkook pulls out and puts his pants up.

You flee from the kitchen at once, Jungkook abruptly looking for the intruder, he catches a glimpse of your white-clad figure run towards the door and he briefly questions himself who could you possibly be, but the royal seal at the back of your robe is a little too hard to miss.

Seokjin’s eyelids start to droop, sleep finally taking over him when he hears rustling behind. Namjoon, equally alerted by the sound, stands up and looks around. “Jeonha, we might have company. Please stand.”

It’s awfully quiet now, and the two of them are unsure of its because the troop has fallen asleep or… or if the unspeakable happened… They take a few cautious steps in separate ways, eyes scanning every tree surrounding them.

They wake the troop in silence, warning them of possible danger coming their way. Namjoon orders the company to stay more vigilant than usual, especially in the dark where they won’t able to see if an enemy is lurking around or not. Suddenly a guard falls to the ground, a bow lodged in his back.

“Watch the trees!” Seokjin shouts before chaos ensues. Men coming from all directions charge towards them, the sound of steel clashing against steel echoing throughout the forest. Seokjin’s troop is outnumbered greatly, he realizes. They have to escape before everyone gets killed. “Guards, fall back!” his arms are getting tired too but he can’t find the strength to give up, not when he sees his men falling one by one.

Time seems to slow down around him as he watches each royal guard get shot or stabbed to their death. He backs up slowly, bumping into Namjoon. “You ready?” Seokjin asks, finding it difficult to breath. There’s a slit in his sleeves, a cut a few inches long, feeling the blood trickling down his arm. “’Til death, jeonha.” Namjoon nods, wiping away the blood on his lips with his sleeve.

A group surrounds them – ten to two. “Now!” Seokjin commands, screaming  as he charges against the men. He gets kicked at the back, the king falling on his knees. Seokjin’s head bows at the pain, but he plunges his sword to the soil, using it to support his weight as he stands up from his knees. He swings at them, the armed men laughing when he blindly thrusts the sword in the air. He’s been cut again, this time across his pectoral, the stinging pain felt until the tips of his fingers. His vision is getting hazy by the minute. He can’t give up.

Seokjin falls one more time to the ground, his arms bearing all his weight. He sees Namjoon’s body on the side – lifeless. He musters all his strength and attempts to push himself back up one more time. Before he manages to get on his knees, a blade of a sword points at his neck, one more move and the steel will pierce through his skin.

He follows the blade of the sword ‘til he looks up to a masked man with… blonde hair? His eyes narrow at the sight. It was his first time to encounter a man with hair of such color. The man pulls the mask over his head, a healing scar cutting through his right eyebrow and down to his cheek. 

“Yoongi?”

“Told you, you can never keep us out.”

That’s the last thing Seokjin hears, as he feels the blade slicing through his abdominals. He falls to the ground, clutching onto his stomach as he spits out the blood accumulating in his mouth. His chest is heaving, everything is hazy. He’s losing consciousness.

The image of you smiling is the last thing he sees before blacking out.  

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved.

[taglist] : @aretha170​

[vannahfanfics]

I'm always a sucker for Todoroki and Yaoyorozu. You can use the prompt "chocolate" if you like. 😊

I kinda took liberty with the word “chocolate,” but hopefully this is still acceptable! :D It was super cute to write. Thanks for requesting!

In My Arms

The microwave had been beeping for several seconds, indicating that her glasses of milk were thoroughly warmed. Unfortunately, Momo was too busy staring blankly at the device’s black shiny surface to realize. She heaved a heavy sigh for perhaps the twentieth time that day, and in her discolored reflection in the shielded window’s surface, her lashes fluttered in a languid blink. Shoto…

The boy had been on her mind all night, and not in a pleasant way. The image of him falling to his knees, sweat pouring down his face and hands clasped in a prayer of thanks to whatever deity had spared his father’s life, was simply too visceral an image to ignore. After the news program had wrapped up the coverage of Endeavor’s battle with the Nomu, Shoto had retired to his room despite the fact it was early in the afternoon. The time was inching closer to 9 p.m., and the boy had not ventured out of his bedroom, not even when Mina called everyone for dinner. Surely he must be at least a little hungry, Momo pouted worriedly. It was then that she finally realized her milk had finished microwaving, and she opened the appliance. Two glasses of milk for hot chocolate- one for herself and one for Shoto. If he would accept it, that is.

Momo removed the jar of homemade hot cocoa powder from the cabinet then stirred generous spoonfuls into each of the ceramic mugs, followed by a spritz of vanilla extract for a homey, calming flavor. Just inhaling the fresh scent eased her nerves a little- but only a little. Careful not to burn her fingers, Momo carefully gripped the handles of the mugs and walked out of the kitchen to slowly ascend the stairs. Her lips remained drawn into a firm frown, and her anxiety mounted with every step she took.

What if he doesn’t appreciate my gesture of kindness? Oh, I don’t want him to find me insensitive or annoying, she fretted as she rounded the landing. It was a good thing she could operate from muscle memory, for her mind was whirling. What if it’s too hot and it scalds him? At that worrying thought, she compulsively blew on both mugs a few times to cool the surface layer of thick, creamy liquid. Or what if it’s not hot enough? Momo doubted it, from the thin white wisps of steam curling above her fingers, but it wasn’t like her mind was willing to listen to reason. She even debated scurrying back down the steps to pop them in the microwave for another thirty seconds or so; she didn’t, but only because she had arrived at Shoto’s room. She inhaled sharply to steel her nerves before knocking on the door with one of her sock-covered feet.  

“Shoto? I brought you some hot chocolate. I thought you might like some,” she called buoyantly. There was no sound for a few seconds, so she wondered if he had fallen asleep. “Shoto?” she repeated, though more softly just in case he actually was slumbering. This time, she distinctly heard the creaking of bedsprings. Oh no! I did wake him up! she panicked. If her hands were not occupied with the two mugs, she probably would’ve started chewing on her nails. She fidgeted, unsure what she should do to amend her rudeness, and Shoto cracked the door open. She fell still as his heterochromatic eyes regarded the steaming mug of hot cocoa uninterestedly. Well, to Momo, he seemed indifferent, but who could tell with his usually aloof demeanor? She gulped loudly before pushing it towards him. “… It’s warm. I just made it.” Her voice was soft, like she was coaxing a stray dog to accept her affections. That’s certainly what it felt like with the way Shoto ever-so-slightly backed away from her extended arm. He did not retreat fully, however. After a few tense seconds, he took the cup from her. An electric jolt traveled up Momo’s arm as his fingertips brushed against hers.

“Thank you.” His eyes flickered up to meet hers, and Momo wanted to start crying then and there with how miserable he appeared. Dark circles ringed his grey-and-blue eyes, and his entire face sagged with weariness. His bi-colored hair was disheveled and sticking up in odd places, like he had been tossing and turning in a fever fit. Shoto must have thought she was waiting for him to try it with how she stood there, studying him in mounting concern, so he brought the mug to his lips and sipped. His gaze never left hers. “It’s good,” he offered cajolingly.

“O-oh,” she stammered, because replying was the right thing to do, her sparking brain recalled. “Thank you. I suppose… I shall be going.” Momo hesitated to finish the statement because she did not want to leave, not with how terrible Shoto looked. Social decorum dictated, however, that she be respectful of his boundaries- no matter how badly she wanted to comfort him.

As she turned on her heel, his other hand darted out to catch her elbow in a light and almost fearful touch. Momo felt that crackling electricity shoot up her limb again, this time coursing into the muscles of her neck and making them spasm. Momo obediently halted, glancing down at the hand delicately gripping her arm and then up at him. He was looking away from her now, frowning frustratedly and blushing with slight embarrassment.

“Momo, I… Please stay with me.”

She could not help but release a startled squeak. Blood rushed to her face, dying it the hue of rose tea. Despite her mortification at the blunt request, Momo had no intention of refusing. Shoto was staring at her so pleadingly, so brokenly, that it was liable to break her heart. His fingers tensed around her elbow in silent begging. Please, his eyes implored, I don’t want to be alone.

“Of course I will.” Her face relaxed into a soft smile, and she reached around to brush his knuckles gently. His hand slipped from her arm only to entreatingly grasp her fingers. His intense gaze remained on her face as he stepped back into his bedroom. His fingers curled around hers, and he tugged on her arm to guide her through the doorway. Momo allowed him to puppeteer her body as he wished. She sucked in a small breath when he leaned in to shut the door. His chest bumped against hers, making her flush. He must have seen the redness blooming over her cheeks because he retreated quickly and muttered, “Sorry.”

He gasped the ceramic mug in both hands and seated himself on the edge of the bed. Momo stood awkwardly in the center of the room for a moment, unsure how exactly to go about comforting the reserved boy. After a few moments of consideration, she eased herself down onto the mattress beside him, with a good nine inches of space for comforting closeness that did not override respectable boundaries. “Shoto,” she frowned as he sipped wordlessly at the chocolate beverage. “Are you all right?”

“I’m just confused; that’s all,” he responded honestly. Momo breathed a small sigh of relief; at least he was forthcoming. She wasn’t sure if she had the willpower to pry his troubles out of him. His two-colored gaze flickered to her before fixating on the creamy brown mixture below. “I’ve always despised my father for the awful things he did to the rest of my family and me. Yet, watching him fight for his life on that screen today… The only thing I kept thinking was ‘Please don’t die.’”

Momo tutted understandingly and reached up to tuck a loose chunk of his white hair behind his ear, because that felt like the right thing to do. Shoto didn’t flinch or reprimand her, and even leaned a little into her caress, making her knuckles bump against his cheekbone. His gaze was bitter and ashamed as he watched small bubbles pop one by one on the hot chocolate’s surface. “I almost feel like I’ve betrayed my brothers, sister, and mother by not wishing him dead.”

“Shoto,” she breathed and pressed a little closer to him and went to rest a hand on his knee. She faltered though, leaving her hand hanging in midair, because she was afraid that she was crossing a line. He looked down at her hand, and then he shifted his leg to seek her comforting touch, making their knees bump. Following the silent cue, she placed her hand on his leg and another on his upper back, rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades. “Even with all the things your father has done, it is not shameful of you to pray for his life. You are a kind and wonderful person who’s aspiring to be a hero. Frankly, I would be more worried if you had wished him dead.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, and he peered at her out of his periphery. She smiled kindly and lifted her hand to stroke once over his hair. Her heart fluttered as he rolled his head a little to press against her palm. His eyes were like a blizzard and a storm, pulsing with energy as he regarded her. “There is no right or wrong way to respond to the trauma you’ve suffered,” she explained softly, “and however you respond to it is valid. You can forgive him, or you can’t. You can recognize his attempts to change, or you can’t. You have the right to heal and process how you wish.”

“Thanks, Yaoyorozu.” His voice cracked with the small utterance, and even with how downcast his head was, she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought back the tears. Momo gently clucked her tongue and eliminated the few inches of space left between them, hugging him into her side and pulled his head onto her shoulder. He willingly sought out her embrace, burying his face into her neck. His hot breath and his cold tears tingled her nerves, but she ignored the peculiar sensation, focusing her energy into soothingly stroking his two-toned hair.

“Of course. I’m here for you anytime, Shoto. There’s no shame in asking for help either, you know.” His entire body was trembling with barely-suppressed sobs, so he only nodded weakly in response. The hot chocolate writhing in the mug as his hand wracked with tremors, so Momo gently took it and set it on the bed behind her alongside her cup before wrapping both her arms around him in a firm hug. His hands pawed into her woolen sweater as he finally broke, releasing a choking sob. “It’s okay,” she shushed him as he groaned in frustrated agony. “I don’t judge you. We all need to cry sometimes.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his. “You take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Shoto choked out deep, agonized sobs now and then, but he primarily cried silently. The thick collar of her sweater soon dampened with his tears and felt clumpy against her collarbone, but she hardly minded or even noticed. He painted the skin of her neck with salt and water, a portrait of misery and trauma long overdue. He was so touch-starved and desperate for comfort that he slung his leg over hers at one point and almost climbed into her lap, unbalancing her with his superior weight. Momo made the quick decision to set the mugs of hot chocolate on the nightstand and lay down on the bed, allowing him to climb on top of her and bury his face back into her neck. It was a bit awkward and hard to breathe with his muscular bulk, and her face burned with the implications, but Shoto had no ulterior motives in mind. He wanted love and affirmation, and she was the only one there to give it. She would yield that, gladly.

His muffles sniffles gradually quieted into deep breaths. Momo had taken to idly running her fingers over his spine and into his hair and back again. “Do you feel better?” she asked him. He groaned a little under his breath and pushed himself up onto his forearms, blinking at her with bleary, watery red eyes. His gaze then dropped, and a pink haze appeared on his cheeks.

“… Much,” he admitted in a small voice. Momo giggled and cupped his face in her hands, making him blush further.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“This is a pretty embarrassing position we’re in. I’m surprised you’re not embarrassed.” Truthfully, Momo had been too busy soothing the boy to pay much attention, but he was right. His thigh was lodged between hers, and his entire weight draped over her left side, chest-to-chest. Her face blazed with a sudden pink fire, and he narrowed his eyes. “I knew it,” he sighed and moved to get up. For reasons she couldn’t process at the moment, her hands snapped to his biceps to dig in and hold him in place.

“N-no! I’m all right! Really!” she squeaked in protest. His eyebrows shot up to the roots of his hair, and he regarded her bewilderedly. Her eyes rolled in their sockets, not settling on any one thing for more than a second, while she pitifully attempted to voice her scattered thoughts. “I-I mean, we’re friends, right? Some platonic cuddling is good bonding! N-not that this was about the cuddling, of course. I just wanted to make you feel better, a-a-and I just don’t know how to comfort someone without, you know, t-t-touching and h-holding…” The more she blathered explanations, the more mortified she felt, and her face took on the hue of an apple. When she finally looked back at him, he was smiling widely in amusement.

“So… you won’t mind if I do this?”

All the breath was knocked out of her lungs in a whistling wheeze as he flopped down on her.

“Shotooooo,” she groaned as her chest muscles tightened under strain, and she could feel his body rumble as he chuckled. He propped his cheek into his hand and grinned mischievously at her, to which she responded with a babyish pout. She gasped when he suddenly stroked her cheek with the backs of his index and middle fingers, ever so softly.

“Thank you, Yaoyorozu. I mean it.”

She smiled warmly at him and tilted her head a little, her black hair falling over his pillow.

“Anytime.” She frowned thoughtfully and then grinned. “You know, considering we’re…” she gestured generically at their current position, “you can call me Momo.” He snorted with laughter and then nodded.

“Of course… Momo.” Something about the way he whispered her name sent pleasurable tingles propagating all through her nerves, lighting her up with invisible fireworks. His eyes searched her face, studying it intently like he wished to memorize every nuance. Momo knew not what to do about it, so she remained still, breathlessly watching his heterochromatic eyes roam over her flushed face. After what seemed like hours, his wandering gaze settled on her lips. Without looking away, he quietly asked, “Momo… Can I…?” He did not finish his sentence, but she knew what he was asking, nevertheless. She responded with a tiny nod, and her breath stalled in her lungs in anticipation.

Balancing himself on his elbows, he descended over her to press their lips together in a sweet, virtuous kiss. Momo tilted her head slightly, allowing his lips to mold over hers; it felt so natural, the way they fell into place, like they were two halves of the same whole. He held the kiss for several heart-pounding moments before pulling back, brushing the tip of his nose along hers as he did so. Momo compulsively swallowed and licked her lips, tasting the very faint hints of hot chocolate he left behind. Shoto smiled affectionately and ran his hands through her fluffy black hair. “I suppose you should get going before the others get curious.”

“I could,” she supposed, “but I’m not sure I want to.” Shoto blushed at that, looking at the two half-drunken mugs of now cold chocolate. He then looked back to her, and she turned her head to display the curve of her neck invitingly. His eyes flashed roguishly before he grinned and buried his face there, his chest swelling as he inhaled her scent. Momo wrapped her arms around his middle and closed her eyes contentedly. She savored the rise and fall of his chest, the puffs of his breath against her skin, and his fingertips trailing down her curves. Momo knew she was well over the line of propriety and decorum, but she didn’t care much.

I’ll hold you in my arms forever, if that’s what it takes for you to heal, she thought as she drifted into the pleasant twilight of half-sleep. Here with me, you will always be safe and loved.

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