#Another. Oh the circumstances they might hate. But link has never been one to refuse the call | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

love-fireflysong · 3 years

Text

Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

"I love you. I'm—"

"I love you."

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

You have no new messages.

*beep*

A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #is a sad heartbreaking story #lik dis if you cry #asdsakjdasd

19 notes · View notes

astro-pioneer · 3 years

Note

hey I love ur work also Idk if ur taking request at this time but I was wondering if u had time that if u could maybe make a second part to the red string fic about childe cause wow 😩angst is so good

In Another, Maybe 『Childe』

➽ Part two of Broken String | Taking care of Teucer wasn't something (Y/N) had on their schedule for the day, but with the begging golden eyes of the traveller and hopeful blue eyes of the child, who were they to refuse? If only they were informed on who Teucer was related to before making a promise. | Small spoilers for Childe's story quest | The beginning sounds like a platonic Teucer story but we need development so sorry </3

Hi hi anon! I almost cried when I saw your request oml. I'm so glad you like what I write and thank you for the support!! My requests are indeed open (I call them new expeditions in my bio) but I'm glad you asked about it :D I hope this is what you expected but if not send me a message and I can possibly do a third part with an alternate ending.

The child looked familiar, that much (Y/N) knew, but couldn't pinpoint where from. What they didn't know was how the traveller knew where they lived. "Uh, hello?" Right away they knew trouble was in their future. Aether's nervous smile said it all. Teucer knew them just like he knew who the traveller was, especially when his big sister Tonia fawned after reading that part of the letter.

"Hi (Y/N)! We're sorry to bother you, but Zhongli told us you weren't busy and that you could help us!" Ah, so that's how the trio found them. They loved Zhongli dearly, don't get them wrong, but sometimes he shares a little too much information to the ones he trusts. "He told us you're really good with kids, and we usually see you playing pirates with a group on some days."

(Y/N) sighed, seeing that there was no way out of this situation, and almost stepped back in to grab some Mora before the child (who still has yet to be introduced) stopped them. "Oh, it's okay! My big brother already gave us money to spend. Now, come on!" The tiny hands latched onto a bigger right one, the pulling of the limb making the tied string sway lightly.

The nod was small but seen nonetheless, making Paimon sigh in relief. Teucer dragged (Y/N) away before they could close their front door, making the travelling duo do it. Aether cringed at the quick glance inside. It was so cold and depressingly empty. "Maybe it's because they're usually out?" Not even Paimon herself sounded sure about her reasoning.

"Anyway, my name's Teucer! I came from Sneznhaya! What about you?"

The older person blinked, not expecting the kid to not even know their name (even after Paimon said it). "Oh, I'm (Y/N), and I moved to Liyue from Inazuma." He awed; it was very easy to amaze the child, they mused. A small gasp came from Teucer before they were dragged away, the traveller struggling to keep up with the excited kid.

"Oooh, c'mon (Y/N)! Let's go to the wharf! I was never able to see it when I got here! You too, Mr. Nice Guy!" Their right hand was finally released and the string touched the ground once more. The kid ran off but was always in the watchful sight of the trio as they caught up to him.

"Teucer, please try not to run off anymore."

He didn't respond, too amazed with the view and size of the wharf to care. "Woah! Look at the waves! Do they ever freeze?" Aether and Paimon stood back from (Y/N) and Teucer, talking amongt themselves.

"Is it just Paimon, or does it feel like we're just awkward third wheels?" Seeing the nod from her companion, Paimon nodded with crossed arms in satisfaction before floating over after seeing the kid go to the anchor. "This is an anchor. Ships use it to stop the wind from blowing them away."

Teucer pondered for a bit before nodding, 'An anchor...got it. I might get it confused with Commodore Hook though..." The three echoed the name in confusion, prompting him to explain. "My brother always sends me a big present for my birthday. Commodore Hook, Blacksteel Jack, Iron Tony, they all stay in our backyard!"

(Y/N) kept their shock hidden well. "That's very kind of your brother. Are they as big as the anchor?" He nodded as an answer before seeing the stall selling fish, running off yet again. An acquaintance from their work waved in greeting, (Y/N) reciprocating the action with their right hand. The string no longer brushed the ground.

They came back to the group, hearing Uncle Gao, the owner of the fish stall, get mad at Teucer for innocently comparing the fish in Liyue to what he's used to back in his homeland. "That's no way to talk to a child now, is it, sir? There's no reason to get worked up over regional differences." Their face was passive but anyone with a keen enough eye could see the threat behind their façade. Paimon herself even got angry at the stall owner.

"There's legends about these big fish back at home! I told my brother about it and a few days later, he came back with a big fish slung over his shoulder!" He exaggerated 'big' to get his point across, which was cute. "Mr. Nice Guy, (Y/N), let's go see the boats." He grabbed both of their hands this time.

The quick walk ended when they reached a small but intricately designed boat. Teucer signed dejectedly. "I miss my brother..." His palms pressed to his eyes. Paimon was shocked, pointing out the fact that they (minus (Y/N)) just saw him. "That doesn't count! It was for such a short time! Take me to see my brother, I don't want to play anymore!"

The trip to Qingxu Pool's nearby river was a long distance away, especially in Teucer's eyes. Not even halfway through did he ask (Y/N) to give him a piggyback ride, who just sighed and accepted the request. The incline as well as Aether and Paimon blocked their view of Teucer's brother, but they paused at Paimon's declaration. "Found him! There's Childe! Wait..." Teucer didn't notice the faltered step.

Shimmying off their back, Teucer ran toward the taller ginger. Oh, dear. If (Y/N) knew who Teucer's brother was, they would've stayed home and completed upcoming paperwork. Their eyes quickly looked to his left hand, the matching, dull string also tied to his pinkie. At the mention of selling toys, (Y/N) looked at their soulmate suspiciously. "Fatui scum don't sell toys though..." They kept their mouth shut at the pleading eyes of the travelling duo.

The trio stood back, watching the scene unfold in front of them concerning Childe's "toy selling business", as Teucer called it. Another Fatui member, a subordinate, appeared right after, informing the ginger about new recruits. The blond then turned to (Y/N). "Also, Mr. Zhongli asked me to inform you about an urgent matter that he didn't go into details about. However, he requests that you make haste to meet him." They clicked their tongue, still hating how the Fatui are still associates of the funeral parlour.

"Aw, really? Both of you are leaving? Do you have to?" The small smile make Childe's heart squeeze.

"Apologies Teucer, but I know I speak for both your brother and I when I say that it's important for us to keep working. You're always welcome to find me when you want to though, alright?" A nod was shared between the two broken soulmates before (Y/N) turned, heading back to the harbour.

Aether didn't miss the longing stare Childe had before he snapped out of it, answering Teucer's question his own way, laced with lies that'll only harm himself in the end. Paimon didn't miss it either, but she was more vocal until he covered her mouth.

The next time (Y/N) saw Teucer and Co. was when they came barging into their office. "We're going to the Institute of Toy Research! Come.on, I want you to come with us!" They had no choice but to go. Watching the lengths Childe would go just to make his brother happy struck something inside of them. Not deep enough to make them love him but to see him in a new light.

(Y/N) got to the worn down harbinger before anyone else, squatting down in front of him. "I wish we met under different circumstances, Mr. Soulmate." He cracked a grin.

"I'd ask if there would be any chance where we could change the outcome, but-" he raised his left hand, where the string was nothing but the knot, "-seems as though it's a little too late, huh?"

They shared sad smiles to each other, (Y/N) giving the traveller a signal to get Teucer's attention for a while. "Possibly... In another life, maybe we could've been together. In this run, however, it was sadly not meant to be." They linked their tied hands together, both witnessing the last piece of their connection as soulmates diminish away before their eyes. "I'm glad to have been able to witness that you're more than just a mindless pawn to the Tsaritsa... Hearing what you do for your siblings and even now proved that."

Aether and Paimon came over after (Y/N) stood up, going back to Teucer as they talked. "Did you find your brother yet?" They played along with the "game" of hide and seek. But yet, their thoughts were far away, thinking of an alternative time where the two of them met under different circumstances. What would've happened to the soulmates if they never met in Liyue and witnessed what happened with their beloved? No one knows, not even the gods themselves...

#✎ expedition #✩ neptune #childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #tartagalia x reader

29 notes · View notes

hayscodings · 4 years

Note

Been thinking abt this ask for a bit, what is your take on Penelope's sexuality?

whew, okay, this is something feel very strongly about so i apologize for the length in advance.

there tend to be two camps of people in this fandom when it comes to interpreting penelope’s sexuality and they are: (1) antis/cheryl stans who consider her to be heterosexual because they refuse to entertain the idea that she might be gay since they hate her; (2) people who have never given her character a second thought but listened to her red dahlia monologue and missed the entire point of it decided it somehow made her a lesbian.

then there are the handful of people in the parentdale fandom who know neither of those interpretations have any merit. because here’s the thing: penelope has canonically been shown to be attracted to men, and at the very least it has been implied that she’s attracted to women.

so let’s start with the former: her attraction to men.

if we think about her timeline in chronological order, the first thing we have to take into consideration is the fact that she slept around quite a bit in high school. see: “oh, it’s not that different from when i was younger and i had my pick of gentleman callers lining up every evening”. it’s important to note she says this very fondly, to the point where she does that whole looking-up-dreamily bit that one does when reminiscing about the past. keep in mind that at the time she was already aware that she was promised to clifford, and that the blossoms surely wouldn’t have approved of her going around with other boys.

there is no reason to believe she was hooking up with these guys for any reason other than she enjoyed it. she obviously wasn’t encouraged to date by her parents, she didn’t have anyone to impress considering the fact wasn’t popular, and it’s not like she could have gone around advertising these encounters anyway since she would have had to have kept them a secret from the blossoms. so that throws out any “she was pressured into it”/“she was trying to convince other people that she was attracted to boys” possibilities. the fact that she happily recalled these memories to cheryl alone casts serious doubt on them.

why excitedly bring up the memories at all if they were just reminders of a time when she was suffering as a result of heteronormativity? it’s not like cheryl encouraged her to share, or gave any indication that she would be impressed by such a revelation. penelope has nothing to prove to cheryl, anyway. the most logical conclusion is the one you get when you take her words at face value: she experiences attraction to the opposite sex and had fun exploring her sexuality in her youth. we’ll circle back to this later when we get to the subject of how comfortable she feels with sex.

so after high school she marries clifford. it’s a forced marriage, and one neither she nor clifford consented to-- but it’s what their parents groomed them for since they were children and something they’ve known was inevitably coming for years. now, for the purposes of keeping this as short as possible and not veering off topic, i won’t get into a whole analysis of their dynamic. all i will say is this: they were depicted as being entirely comfortable with one another in season one. they may not have come across as passionate or romantic, but you could tell they were partners (always on the same page, experts at nonverbal communication, trusting of each other, etc.). and what’s more than that, is they were constantly initiating affectionate gestures with each other: linking arms, putting their hands on each other, standing close together, hugging, etc.

their marriage may have been forced, but penelope genuinely cared for and felt safe with clifford. even after he died, there was a lingering attachment to him. nevertheless, that doesn’t make their situation any less traumatic. no matter how comfortable they felt emotionally with one another, the fact that they were groomed to be life companions and eventually forced to have sex with one another and raise children together, remains a very traumatic experience regardless. and we know penelope is still traumatized by it because she’s talked about it time and time again. if she was only attracted to women, that would add a whole other layer of trauma to the situation.

because if she was only attracted to women, she wouldn’t want clifford anywhere near here irrespective of the fact that they were raised together. hell, she couldn’t even close her eyes and pretend he was someone else while they were having sex. and she certainly couldn’t attempt to get to a place where the sex wasn't so awkward and uncomfortable. every encounter would be an unpleasant, pained, and traumatic experience. to the point where i can’t imagine she would want to be the recipient of any physical contact from clifford, much less frequently initiate it. in this scenario, it wouldn’t just be clifford’s relation to her that she would have to cope with, it would also be the fact that he was a man. even just going through the motions of being his wife would make her feel isolated and miserable.

which brings us to her job in s2 and probably the most solid indication of her attraction to men. in s2, we learn that the blossoms are broke and penelope is faced with the reality that she needs to get a job. let’s start with what she does to pay for the christmas tree cheryl bought: sleep with vic. was it necessary for her to do this? was it the only avenue she could have possibly taken to come up with some money in those circumstances? of course not. christmas trees aren’t that expensive-- she could have easily pawned any number of valuables in thistle house to come up with the money. hell, she could have chosen some cheryl owned to teach her a lesson. or something nana owned. or she could have simply...returned the tree. there was absolutely no reason for her to decide to sleep with vic if it wasn't something she was perfectly comfortable doing. why would this be her go-to solution if she was only attracted to women? her options were plenty.

then after this, what does she do? gets a job as a courtesan. which she delightedly describes as “providing comfort and companionship to the lonely men of riverdale”. and, as cheryl notes in that scene, she seems quite proud of herself for it. i have a very hard time reconciling how any of this would make sense if she wasn’t attracted to men. you can’t argue she was solely in it for the money, because when cheryl offers her an out via the second nick st. clair check, penelope declines to quit. in her own words, “oh, but cheryl, why would i stop, when i’m having such a good time?”. what, pray tell, would be the good time she was having if she didn’t enjoy the sex she was having with these men? keep in mind that, at this point, she wasn’t even doing any dominatrix work. at this point it was very much implied that she was focused on providing the “girlfriend experience”. so you can’t even argue that her enjoyment came from feeling empowered by dominating these men or whatever.

furthermore, not only did she hand-pick this very specific job herself and refuse to quit it when strongly encouraged and given the chance to, but she also had other options, same as she did in the situation with the christmas tree. she could have turned to hiram like cheryl suggested, she could have worked at pop’s like hermione did in s1, talked to weatherbee about a position like alice, looked at the listings in the register, or asked around about any job opportunities at highsmith, you know, the very prestigious college she graduated from and donated tons of money to and apparently sat on the board of?? the point is, penelope didn’t have to turn to sex work to pay her bills if she didn’t want to. and even if she had, she could have stoped the second cheryl handed her that check and begged her to. penelope went into sex work because she wanted to. and she's vehemently voiced how much she enjoys her work continuously and consistently since then.

then there’s her relationship with hal. this is the second strongest indication of her attraction to men. why? because she genuinely had feelings for him. when cheryl approaches her about the affair, assuming it to be a transactional encounter, penelope explains that, “it’s different, with hal. he’s not a client. it’s real”. if you pay attention to her facial expressions in that scene, you can see that there’s a certain softness and vulnerability to them. the way she delivers the line is especially vulnerable-- and penelope so rarely shows vulnerability in front of cheryl, so that alone says a lot. she then asks cheryl to “please stay out of it”. now, we don’t get to see much if any of penelope’s relationship with hal, but the bits we do see let us know that it’s not just some salacious affair. at least, not on penelope’s end. after cheryl drives hal away penelope is visibly upset and accuses cheryl of driving away her “one decent chance at a better life”.

we don’t need to unpack all of that, because penelope feeling like she can’t be happy without a man is an entirely separate issue, but the point is: she sincerely cared for hal and saw herself being happy with him. when cheryl dismissively fires back with “if that’s your idea of love”, penelope defensively snaps, “what would you know about it?”. that’s not the reaction she would have had if she had simply pursued hal because she was bored or wanted to cause some drama or was merely trying to mess with alice or something. you can’t say she was with him for money either, because: (1) she already had money at this point, (2) hal isn’t wealthy, and (3) she wasn’t getting any money out of him anyway since he wasn't a client. and if she was just looking to get hitched and settle down with a man for money, she certainly wouldn’t have gone after a married, middle class one with kids. that would not be a sensible strategy.

it’s also worth noting that nat stated in several interviews back in s2, while the affair plot was airing, that she believed penelope had real feelings for hal. she explained that penelope was lonely and, thus, “looking for a bit of warmth from somewhere”. so that’s how she was playing it.

then there's the maple club. just in case it hadn’t been established enough how much she adores her job, she had to go ahead and open a kink club. there really isn’t any need to drive the ‘she actively enjoys sex work’ point further, as i feel it’s been made explicitly clear already, but i do want to make one note, and that is that penelope was still taking clients while she was a madame. we saw her holding props in like, every other scene, and she was shown wearing nightgowns. so if anyone, for whatever weird reason, assumed she only opened the maple club so she wouldn't have to participate in the sexual encounters herself, i am here to burst your bubble.

and finally, we come to the scene that launched a thousand bad takes: the scene of the red dahlia monologue. in that scene, penelope utters the infamous words, “not people betty, men. they are the true poison”. in context, it is very clear that she is speaking from her many personal experiences with shitty men, seeing as before she delivers that quote she categorically details some of the traumas she has endured at their hands-- the murder of her son by her husband being one of them. that’s all that quote is about! the pain and betrayal she’s experienced from shitty, morally reprehensible men! it has nothing to do with her sexuality, and to make it so is to ignore and take away from the seriousness of her trauma. nothing frustrates me more than to see people misinterpret that scene and reduce it to some man-hating lesbian narrative bullshit. y’all can save that nonsense for cheryl.

also, the fact people were so quick to ignore penelope’s attraction to men in favor of calling her a lesbian feels very biphobic to me, and i will not have it. rip to everyone who thinks being bisexual is just Gay Lite™ and refuses to even consider the possibility when a character is indicated to be attracted to the same sex, but i’m different. not that that scene was any indication that penelope is attracted to women-- it was not. mistrusting men and being disgusted by their actions does not a lesbian make. that is literally just being a woman. but anyway.

the last thing i want to say before i get into penelope’s attraction to women is that there is no way she would be so comfortable with sex, or so confident expressing her sexuality, if she was a lesbian whose sole experiences with sex had consisted of meaningless high school hookups and over two decades of forced marriage to her brother. that just doesn’t add up. if she were a lesbian, s2 would have gone very differently. clifford’s death would have been liberating in more ways than one, and the last thing she would have done after finally being free of having to endure a heterosexual relationship is sleep with a random man to pay for a christmas tree, get into sex work, and pursue a relationship with a man. and go on to open a kink club. that just doesn't make sense.

so onto her attraction to women. this doesn’t require as much of an explanation, so i’ll try to keep it short and sweet since i’ve already written an obscene amount of words trying to answer this ask. i honestly can’t remember when i first started headcanoning penelope as bisexual, but i know i had been entertaining the idea of her being attracted to women long before the flashback episode aired. i’m not sure what it was, the ~vibe was just there. when i first got into the fandom i followed several people who shipped penelope and alice, and, while i didn’t care for the ship at the time (embarrassing, i know), the idea of penelope being interested in women felt very natural to me. maybe it was the violently sapphic schoolteacher/librarian aesthetic she had going on in s1, maybe it was the fact that her whole energy screamed ‘repressed’ to me. actually, i do think the latter is what initially got me wondering.

and then nat starting theorizing that penelope was attracted to women and that was very validating. i was briefly hopeful they would go in that direction in s2, but of course it never happened.

but then the flashback episode aired and bitch ?????? that one scene with sierra was gay as hell. i’m still very confused about why they played up penelope’s crush on sierra only to never go anywhere with it in present time, but i’ll take my crumbs. all of the looks penelope gave sierra in that episode, the way she ignored her vandalizing the bathroom mirror while she grilled alice and hermione for their hall passes, the way she set up a quest just to get everyone out of the room so she could be alone with sierra, the subtle scoot towards her and “looks like it’s just you and me for a little bit, sierra” line with that dorky ass grin, the linking arms and smiling at her in the hallway??? there was nothing heterosexual about that.

and then there was the random, low-key coding in 3x12 where we learned that penelope graduated from a college named after patricia highsmith, referenced the price of salt, and used the word sapphic.....i still have questions about all of this. are we just supposed to believe she reads lesbian novels for science? and casually references them in conversation? where did she learn the word sapphic? if i asked my mom what the word sapphic meant she would have no idea what is was talking about. some food for thought.

also....her scenes with alice. that’s all i have to say.

i’m probably missing some things here, but that’s the bulk of it. i apologize for letting this get away from me...i just have a lot of thoughts lmao. anyway, i hope this was at least somewhat insightful and coherent. i appreciate the ask!

#the way i nearly wrote 3k words about this...#my one shots aren't even this long #ask #message #fandom ask #riverdale ask #moretvforyou #penelope blossom #riverparents #riverdale headcanons #riverdale meta

28 notes · View notes

yutaya · 3 years

Text

Iron Fist Rewatch: 1x03: Rolling Thunder Cannon Punch

That's so terrifying. You look an entitled asshole in the eyes and say "no" when he tries to pressure you into doing something morally corrupt that would actively hurt another person - one who has specifically asked you for help - and then armed home invaders break in in the middle of the night. Ward is basically the mafia boss that Colleen has just pissed off, from her POV. No wonder she hates him.

Wow, now I want the fanfic where Colleen keeps calling Ward a mafia boss to his face. "Just because I'm under your mafia family's protection NOW doesn't make that time you put out a hit on me any better, mobster." "'Mob-' I never put out any 'hit'. I'm not the mafia." "You don't need to bother with pretence here, mob guy." (Danny helpfully does not point out that Ward definitely put out a hit on him, but the entire room is still painfully aware.)

Danny: Sorry the people trying to kill me broke your lock.

Colleen doesn't for one second find it out of the question that the cops might be in on the whole "corrupt rich white man is doing shady illegal things and trying to have a 'problem' 'fixed'" thing. Danny does, ("I haven't broken any law?") because Danny spent ten years as a rich white boy and then the next 15 in a culture completely separated from the rest of the world's reality. Or: Danny, a rich white boy, trusts the police. Colleen, who tries to make her dojo a safe space for a bunch of underprivileged majority bipoc kids living in the "bad part of town", does not.

Possibly the reason they speedrun us through Ward going up to the penthouse again is to remind the viewers how obnoxious it is to get up there before we see Danny climb the building later?

I forgot about this freaky tube thing. What is that? High tech coffin? lol. There's an implied "you should be unsettled by this" vibe to Harold's whole "it's so peaceful in here, I can't help but doze off" but when I don't know what the tube is the context is kind of lost on me.

Again with Ward calmly asking for an explanation about such a seemingly insane business choice, especially one that he's going to have to explain to people, and Harold brushing him off. Infuriating. And let's just toss in a sprinkling of "Joy has always been and always will be better than you, who can't do anything."

Harold: "Doesn't it occur to you that I'm doing this all for you?" Me: "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I HATE YOU." He doesn't even just say "I'm doing this for you." No, he has to say "Doesn't it occur to you that I'm doing this for you?" Rather than simply lying, he just has to back Ward into that corner. Ugh. UGH.

Ward: closes his eyes, long huff of breath. I should start a count of how many times he does this.

MY SKIN IS CRAWLING. Freaking Harold. Ugh ugh ugh he's the worst.

Danny you realize you're both disrespecting Colleen AND talking about pretty sensitive subject matter right in front of her student?

Joy: "We need to do the right thing." Me: "You keep telling yourself you're a person who cares about that, Joy."

Joy used to do Ward's homework for him????

Like, what?

Seriously, what?

Was this supposed to be a cute exchange? Because my Asian American upbringing says it's NOT.

Joy: "In another life, this would have been romantic." Danny: "Gross, you're my sister."

"You and Ward, you're the only link to a life that I had. It kept me going under very difficult circumstances." ;___;

Joy talking about clinging to her dreams of Harold meeting her after school and holding her hand and smiling at her in her grief after he died is making me so miserable. To Joy, Harold means comfort.

Danny: *Starts talking about ghosts* Joy: Oh right, he's crazy.

Colleen: "You dishonor yourself when you fight for money."

Jeri, who has literally been mind-controlled, almost got murdered slowly and painfully, and brought a killer to her wife,

Young intern Jeri Hogarth calling the boss's secretary a "hatchet faced bitch" and then bribing said boss's 10yrs or younger kid not to tell is. Well. It sure is a thing.

I still want Danny inviting Jeri to Defenders friend group hangouts and Foggy and Marci both blanching. Jessica and Jeri can snark at each other and Danny can be like "You're friends too! I didn't know!! :D"

Honestly, I would have watched a whole show on the intricacies of classism issues, with the Elite like Jeri and the Meachums teaching Danny how to live and maneuver in that world and Colleen and the dojo and Big Al teaching Danny about the reality of life for the lower class, and our golden-hearted Danny in the center of it, consistently determined to do what's Right,

Joy: lol, isn't this such a fun, teasing, sibling-banter thing we do, me joking about how I'm going to close this deal and you would only endanger it?

Harold: punches trainer full in the face, then casually suggests weapons next time while the guy is still groaning on the ground

Is Gao terrorizing Harold and making him kneel on glass supposed to make me feel for Harold? No one deserves this but that doesn't make Harold magically not a monster.

Danny.... just taking over lecturing the class is not respectful to Darryl or Colleen either.

Danny: "What kind of soldier training is this? They're acting like kids!" Colleen: "That's the POINT! I am not training them to be soldiers, I am creating a safe space for them to be kids when they usually can't be in the rest of their lives." Danny's warped K'un Lun upbringing really shows here. It's heartbreaking to remember that Colleen isn't just some good samaritan either - that she was raised in a cult too and has her own warped upbringing viewpoints.

A line I need to appear in a Ward/Misty/Claire pov fic: "Colleen tends to seem normal because most of the time she's next to Danny. It's easy to forget that actually, she's completely batshit."

Colleen keeps throwing Danny out for bringing trouble to her doorstep and then not really fighting it when he sticks around anyway (Which: Danny. Danny, this is problematic behavior, Danny.) - it's when he becomes a danger to her students that she gets serious about it. Even if Danny wouldn't physically harm them again, he is now a drain on their mental health: he represents a potential danger, a reason to be constantly on guard, and a removal of their safe space.

Ward clearly has no idea what the heck Joy is doing. It's all very troubling and this family is so messed up.

The way Ward ever so slightly shakes his head at Joy as she bribes Patel with his nephew's actual life.

The blanket into snow is a great transition shot

Joy feels like Ward refuses to tell her things the same way Harold refuses to tell Ward things! But Ward doesn't actually have the ability to tell Joy anything because he doesn't know anything! Ugh!!

On Joy's desk: a photo of her and Ward toasting at some party. She also has a copy on her shelf at home.

Joy poured her blood sweat and tears into Rand. She's proud of it. To Ward, it's a prison.

Wait so their plan is that there's no record that Danny Rand ever existed? Like, besides. The city's collective memory? People know about Danny Rand, guys. You need to delete the ability to connect this adult man to Danny Rand, not young Danny's entire paper trail. I mean, anything linking them would be included in literally everything about Danny but still. Seems unnecessary and suspicious?? I know nothing about crime.

Jeri casually constantly reminding Danny that the Meachums are the corrupt villains of this story must be really messing with Danny's head. Not that she's wrong. Poor boy.

"Isn't it obvious!? I'm not your sister. He's not your brother. We don't want you here." brb crying forever

I have to appreciate that this fight moderator is actually trying to run a semi-safe tight ship behind the showmanship

"Cut the Floyd Mayweather shit." Floyd Mayweather: a former professional boxer, competed from 1996-2015. Often referred to as the best defensive boxer in history, as well as the most accurate puncher. Nicknamed "Pretty Boy" by his amateur teammates because his defensive technique left him with relatively few scars.

That whole Randy biting Colleen (breaking the rules about going too far laid out at the start of the fight) and then her climbing on top of him to keep on punching after he's down was really framed like one of those troubling "the hero loses control and it's bad" type scenes.

I am very curious about Jeri and the Meachums' history. Jeri and Ward snark at each other so much in this meeting. And they definitely seem amused while doing so. Also Joy was like "Hogarth" at Ward earlier, and Jeri described their relationship as "complicated" to Danny.

Ward slumps down in his seat so he's lower than anyone else in the room, despite probably being the tallest. This is probably meant as a show of dismissiveness: Danny's case is so insignificant that he doesn't need to respect them by sitting up straight - but it IS interesting, from a power dynamics in staging perspective.

Ward, who has a constant escape plan of stealing from his employees and running away with Joy, plus was literally talking about leaving and starting over with nothing earlier in this same episode: "It could have been easy. You could have taken the money and had a great life."

The elevator level can be controlled by the lobby man???

Another picture of presumably child Joy on Harold's desk, as a toddler this time. How many does he have?? This is cruel set dressing.

Harold playing on Ward's loyalty again. "I need you to help me. I don't have anyone else."

#iron fist #iron fist rewatch #the immortal iron fist #my stuff #rolling thunder cannon punch

1 note · View note

fly-sky-high-bug-games · 4 years

Note

Hi! I saw you answer an ask about your OC Alyssum and I was instantly pulled in. I went to your list of muses to go read some stuff on her but the link isn't working for some reason. Care to share? 😁 also what other hcs do you have about her (optional w/mugo) 👀

I THINK THAT’S MY FAULT, I keep tagging her as available muse but she’s technically listed as “npc” on the muse post because I didn’t want to introduce her yet (so far story wise, she only appears through dialog and hasn’t popped out yet, hard since she’s at Highgrove and setting is in Hallownest). However, her muse has been... oddly strong lately, I keep drawing and doing tiny rp scenes with her with few friends just to test the waters with her and BOY IT’S KIND OF... INTERESTING.

She might be “oopsie haha murder” kind of character but she’s also playing the nobility part quite well. She’s “polite”, invites bugs for a tea, a little chatter (maybe even a friendly one, she’s capable of it), possibly propositions, no refusal, nice job offers~ or death. One always gets to choose, acting like they have an option but forcefully narrows it to few and plays on mental and emotional state at such circumstances. Tricky~

I have yet to develop the details of her faction and who’s in it but very few people will be. Wasps I already covered, I just have to work around clan leader that’s in contact with Alyssum. Others would be black market dealers (lead merchant), underground snail-mail (postal snail), one of the weavers who’s good with seals and couple of others~ I need to brainstorm on this still. :0

Damn, I already rambled about this and didn’t talk about her much, hold on *throws Alyss tidbits under read more if tumblr allows it to work...*

She was looked after by Magnolia and basically raised by her, some time after she turned to be a queen. Fun tidbits about Magnolia family as a whole, they are not related to one another (mostly) but consider themselves a big family because they took down the previous queen and king of Highgrove while raising from poverty. However, Magnolia and her followers were never kind and forgiving, but with promises that there will be change in balance of the hierarchy, they got a lot of followers and supporters from commoners to usurp the royalty and did so successfully.

Alyssum was young when this happened so while she was somewhat birthed under poverty, she was fully raised as a noble. I don’t have much of her childhood worked out but there isn’t much to say aside from that she was raised and thought under the cruel but rich conditions of the kingdom.

The binding seal on her wings she earned not long before she met Mugo, almost like a sign for maturity and set under higher position in the family and not just as a student. The seals are powerful magic that uses soul, sewed in with magic by the weaver and afterwards trained to use it. It manifests through the shape of petals: swirling, cutting, chipping, slashing or severing, depending on the number of petals created, used, how fast, how they’re choreographed... It’s all soul but she can use regular flower petals that make less damage but not much soul required. Alyss can also use the wings as a shield since the binding is right on them and actually getting through them with anything is worse than trying to cut the metal open. (like, I imagined in game moves, if you know how THK blocks twice then slashes, she does similar things with wings, where she blocks two times but then bursts open the wings to blow the opponent back to the other side of the screen)

But you know, she’s a lady~ Of course she won’t get her hands dirty. :3c She has others to do that for her~

As for her and Mugo... (OH BOY HERE WE GOOOO~!)

I have to say, their relationship and love was rather genuine, it kind of makes me sad it ended up the way it did... With Magnolia, Alyss (and even Zeeke and his family) still visiting Hallownest some time before Pure Vessel was sealed and before infection went crazy (I canonize, by human years, that that was 20ish years before current events, since Hornet seems 15-18ish years old but who knows with bugs~ I just needed approximate idea for the setting). They were at City of tears but Mugo met her somewhere close to it, as she was hiding away from the nobles to explore the outside on her own and spotted Mugo.

Sure, Mugo crushed on her first but when she tested him by giving away her symbol necklace and pedant of White Magnolia for him to sell at black market and get good money, he refused because it was a memento from someone dear to him. It still is... he didn’t take it off because this is when their love was true and pure... Alyss never forget that either. It was very touching to her.

Their relationship was fine, both shared nothing in common but that was such a fun time for both because of it. They were clicking because they were like two different puzzles pieces that do fit together... but sadly, the pieces didn’t give the right picture when one by the other. (don’t you hate when this happens when you’re trying to puzzle grass or sky together?? *shot*)

Alyssum explained to Mugo how Magnolia works. He didn’t like it one bit, as he ran away from Highgrove partially because they usurped the old rulers and rendered his family’s status almost homeless. Meanwhile, Alyss didn’t like that Mugo kept throwing himself in danger for his job, even if it’s a hobby that means a lot to him, all for sake of survival and geo.

They dated for some time, had fun, but slowly things started kind of... falling apart. The closer Alyss was to heading back to Highgrove the more she pressured Mugo to come with, become part of the family and live with her under riches the Magnolia offers. His counter proposal was, if they’re really in love and she is aware of Magnolia’s wrongdoings, that she would leave them instead and live with him while making the adventures she loved hearing about from him, together. Basically, Mugo put his love for her over riches or anything but Alyss wanted him for herself under the comfort and safety of Magnolia. She couldn’t throw that away, not after building the status and becoming a favorite to Magnolia herself. She thought this was selfish of Mugo but Mugo tried to explain it was for her changing a new leaf and starting over as something good, not ruled by fear and power.

So they started to disagree... argue... and finally physically fight. Of course, Alyss won. Mugo isn’t a fighter. At that moment, it was either she has him or no one does. For Mugo, he could only bark threats. So he did, angered, throwing words he couldn’t even imagine himself doing. When she lighted up her wings, he threatened he will cut them off. So in retribution, she cut him, scaring his face. He saw something or someone completely different then. Mugo ran for his life, leaving Alyss alone.

That was the last time they saw each other, 20ish years ago. Mugo hid away at the lake of Unn and suffered depression and withdrawal for a very long time. As for Alyss... she pulled off something she shouldn’t and Mugo didn’t know about...

He only got one last letter from her, to met her one more time at the Crossroads before she leaves for Highgrove, saying she wants to try one more time and... that she had a surprise for him. He didn’t respond. She waited for him there then left when he never showed...

That was that. :U Until now, at least~ :3 She got to hear about her ex thanks to Zeeke’s shenanigans at the Colosseum~ Oh, what are the odds of the noble meeting and having issues specifically with a certain, scruffy moth~

20 years is quite a bit of time for someone with a heartbreak and power to grow... kind of crazy. Of course she never let go of it. And now she knows he’s still alive too~ Wonder what Alyss will do. :3c

#man I got carried away BUT I ENJOYED TELLING ABOUT THIS #trying to turn this iceberg of lore a bit and open up more about it #so thank you so much for letting me ramble! :D #I will eventually make a muse page for her that works #muse: Alyssum #building lore tablets #I hope read more works.... that was a lot of text #alaska-ren

11 notes · View notes

a-crimson-lion · 5 years

Text

A Rant About Katsuki Bakugo

[Katsuki-stans and the like, you should probably steer clear from this.]

[Also, spoilers.]

Before we start, I want to make something clear: you are allowed to have your own opinions. You like Katsuki? Great! You disagree with my post or parts of it? That's fine! You can have your opinions and interpretations, and I can have mine. That's completely okay! Again, if these types of posts make you uncomfortable, feel free to leave. It's as simple as that. These are just my personal observations; you don't have to take them to heart! These types of arguments are... touchy, I'll admit, but they don't have to be a hell-scape. You got that? Good. Now then...

...let's begin.

P.S. Long Post. You've been warned...

I'll start by saying that Katsuki Bakugo never really appealed to me when I got into the series. I'll admit that I've only gotten to Season 3 in the anime (waiting on Season 4) and I've read up to the end of the Shie Hassaki arc in the manga (I have also had the burden of being bombarded with manga spoilets, but eh, c'est la vie). With that said, I still haven't come to like Katsuki. Telling Izuku to kill himself in episode one has only guaranteed that he'll never be far up on my favorite character lists. I will admit that he is definitely NOT the same character he was at the start, but even then, when compared to fellow classmates and other characters, his growth is miniscule. I get that it won't be an immediate overnight change for Katsuki, but when he's compared to characters like Tenya and Shoto, it's clear that his progression as a character really isn't all that. There are a few things that bother me with just his character in general, but let's start with this:

Handling Katsuki's actions and the consequences

One of the many arguments for Katsuki's character is as follows: "Yeah, he hasn't been explicitly punished for his actions, but the narrative makes sure to punish him with karma!" I used to believe this too, and I actually thought it was helping him develop into a better character. Except, it hasn't. 'Cause Katsuki has barely learned anything from those experiences other than "I'm weak," which is another problem for later. Let's review:

The Sludge Villain Incident. Katsuki gets caught and fails to escape, Izuku tries saving Katsuki, All Might ends up saving them both. Izuku gets scolded by the pros for his "reckless actions" (even though they didn't do anything, the lack of a proper quirk is no excuse) while Katsuki gets praise, which he blatantly ignores because he's pissed at Izuku. He then proceeds to follow Izuku home and tell him that he didn't need saving, even though he likely would have died or have been captured by the sludge villain had no one intervened. And before you tell me that Katsuki stopped bothering Izuku for a while, that wasn't because he recognized that Izuku did something right, it was because Katsuki was busy sulking at the fact that he's only getting noticed by being a victim, which he hates, and he proceeds to direct that anger towards himself. Once again, the only message he gets from this is that he's weak, even though most people are, in one way or another.

The Battle Trail. After Katsuki loses the Battle Trail to Izuku, he proceeds to nearly have a panic attack before getting a small pep talk from All Might and later Izuku. He isn't rectified for nearly KILLING, and if not that then nearly SEVERELY INJURING, another student. Katsuki didn't cooperate with his partner, which was the point of the exercise, and instead decided to do his own thing, which ultimately helped bring about their team's downfall. Again, he recieves no punishment beyond nearly losing his cool and self-loathing. All Might's justification for continuing the Trial is also kinda wack (THE BOY USED HIS HIGHLY DESTRUCTIVE FIREARM AGAINST ANOTHER STUDENT AFTER BEING TOLD NOT TO). Then, instead of a proper punishment, All Might tries comforting him, and Izuku even tries telling him about One for All (though arguably he'd be fine not knowing about it, and he hasn't told anyone else). Katsuki's takeaway from the entire thing is that he'll get stronger and surpass his classmates, which in some cases is admirable, but in this case, it's downright egotistical. No one can be the best at everything, not even All Might.

The Sports Festival, pre-tournament. Katsuki is pissed when he gets 3rd in the obstacle course. Katsuki yells like a disgruntled toddler when his team gets 2nd place (even though that means he gets to advance).

The Sports Festival, Round One. Remember that whole karma argument? Well, that goes out the window when Katsuki just makes a bigger explosion to counter Ochako's well thought out plan in order to win the match. I get it, not every plan you'll ever come up with will always succeed in the face of adversity, but where the hell did that big explosion come from any way? Shoto curb-stomped Hanta in an earlier match, but he was pissed at Endeavor, and he even apologizes afterwards. Izuku broke out of Hitoshi's mind control because One for All isn't exactly a by the book quirk. Katsuki... just creates a bigger explosion because he's strong? Really? IDK guys, it just doesn't carry the same weight as the first two examples. Also, yes Katsuki was pushing close to his limit, but that never comes up again in the rest of the Sports Festival or even the manga until he and Izuku are going up against All Might. His "weaknesses" aren't treated on the same scale as his fellow classmates, which, in the series' case, should be on equal footing.

The Sports Festival, Final Round. Katsuki basically wore down Eijiro in the second match (which is what Ochako almost did but of course Horikoshi can't give Katsuki some proper reprocussions), and then because his quirk produces light, Katsuki easily deals with Fumikage in the third match. He then proceeds to beat Shoto in the final round, and loses his shit. Now, I might be able to kind of understand where Katsuki is coming from, had it not been for the glaring fact that Katsuki listened in on Shoto's Tragic Backstory(TM). He knows that Shoto has difficulties using his fire side, but the second he uses it against Izuku, suddenly all Katsuki can think about is how he wants to beat Shoto at full strength, even though Shoto's situation is not an overnight issue. Katsuki doesn't see this however. He thinks Shoto is mocking him, which is simply not the case, but Katsuki is too self-centered to care. He ends up winning the festival, but he feels like he doesn't earn it just because Shoto couldn't get past his daddy issues just yet. When you put it like that, Katsuki just looks downright petty.

Sports Festival Finale. This is where most people tend to take Katsuki's side, but I have my counterarguments about the issue. Did Katsuki have the right to be mad? Arguably yes, but he could have simply sucked up his anger and waited until after the Festival was done to lash out, and we all know he didn't do that. Midnight had to knock him out just so he could get his hands off of Shoto. Should the teachers have restrained Katsuki like they did? Arguably no, but remember, this is a super-powered society. Maybe someone could have held Katsuki back if there weren't quirks, but Katsuki has freaking grenades for hands, and he has no qualms about blowing up Shoto simply because he didn't come at him with full strength. So restraining him, while unsightly, was probably one of the few ways to keep Katsuki from going apeshit at the Festival, considering the circumstances and Katsuki's behavior.

Katsuki's Internship. Best Jeanist is one of the few characters in the series to note Katsuki's less than ideal behavior. He gets a lot of flack for it , though, because how dare someone hurt the precious explodo-boy! Oh yeah, defend the kid with a massive ego and noticeable anger issues that go beyond comic relief. Besides, what did Jeanist exactly do besides this? Ruin Katsuki's hairdo? Make him wear jeans? Give him actually compotent advice on how heroes should act and interact with the public? The first one I might get, but other than that, Jeanist deserves no hate. To make matters worse, Katsuki learned nothing from his internship! Which segues perfectly into our next point...

Racing Assessment Post-Internships. Once the kiddos get back from their internships, All Might has them do another hero exercise, and the rest of the class gets to see how Izuku has improved. My problem with this is that they immediately compared his improvement to Katsuki's style. I personally don't see it, and I'll admit that Izuku probably borrowed fundamental bits of Katsuki's strategy, but all in all, Izuku came up with Full Cowl on his own. It shouldn't be linked directly to Katsuki the way it is in the series. We also get a nice quick monolouge from Katsuki about how he wasted his time during his internship, even though that was Katsuki's fault! Geez, what an ego...

Final Exams. I won't sugar coat it: Katsuki gets his ass handed to him by All Might. He comes out of that experience with injuries, but you know what? So does Izuku. And if I remember correctly, Katsuki was the only one who wasn't initially willing to cooperate. By God, Katsuki smacked Izuku with his gauntlet just because he was trying to talk. Even though getting through the escape gate is considered a legitimate way to pass the exam, Katsuki is too engrossed with beating All Might (THE NUMBER ONE HERO) to see that, and actually contemplated losing just because he was working with Izuku and refused to accept his help. It took Izuku decking Katsuki in the face for him to start remotely cooperating with his teammate. Izuku was the real MVP in all of this. And what does Katsuki get for his actions? He just passes. No talk afterwards. No reprimanding for his refusal to cooperate. No remidal lessons at camp. Nothing to help better Katsuki. What's worse is the reason for pairing up Izuku with Katsuki. Look, I get that the teachers don't know about their past, but Katsuki doesn't get along well with anyone in the class, except maybe Eijiro, and even that relationship is flimsy! Izuku would be willing to work with anyone, even with Katsuki. So what's the friggin' point!? Just pair Katsuki and Izuku with literally anyone else in the class besides each other! Maybe then he'd learn a thing or two about teamwork, yeesh...

Deku vs Kacchan 2. The Training Camp Ambush happens. The Provisional License Exam happens. Katsuki is not treated well through either, and he ultimately takes his growing frustrations out on Izuku. Now, I was glad that Katsuki didn't pass solely because he didn't approach the later part of the exam with what would be considered a hero's attitude. But then his fight with Izuku happens. It ends, and they both get punished, but Katsuki also learns about OFA, which I personally believes is unnecessary since there are virtually multiple candidates who deserve to learn about it more, and it actually does nothing for Katsuki as a character, but that's a discussion for another day. What really gets me going is on how Katsuki is portrayed during the fight. If you've seen the anime or read the manga, you know the scene where he asks Izuku why he was the reason for All Might's end. I'll admit, it actually got to me the first time through; Katsuki actually appeared human to me. But I think @itsclydebitches said it best in their own post analyzing Katsuki, which you can read here. Here's an excerpt:

"Now let’s make something clear: Bakugo obviously has feelings beyond anger and disdain. Of course he does. I’m not arguing that he’s a sociopath and like I mentioned back during the sludge incident, you can be scared and upset and still be a terrible person. So many people read this scene and immediately jumped on the ‘hug Bakugo’ bandwagon. The poor baby! He’s been blaming himself for All Might’s retirement this whole time!

Is that awful? Does it need to be addressed? Yes. However, you know who else is carrying misplaced guilt?

Literally everyone else in 1-A.

Izuku also blames himself for All Might’s retirement. We get a whole internal monologue on how if he hadn’t crushed his arms again he might have reached Bakugo in time and then none of this would have happened. Todoroki and Shoji also blame themselves for not reaching Bakugo in time. Tsu blames herself for not stopping her friends from walking into danger. It’s implied that other kids blame themselves for not tagging along. Everyone wonders what else they could have done to change things.

I could go on. The point is, misplaced guilt is horrible but it doesn’t make Bakugo special. It’s not a free pass to excuse his behavior, especially when this all just happened. All Might’s retirement has no bearing on everything that came before that. When Tsu felt guilty about her roll in all this she called everyone together to speak with them. Bakugo drags Izuku out to try and pummel him. Everyone is suffering in one way or another, but only one of these kids is dealing with that by hurting others."

When put into perspective, Katsuki's guilt is nothing special, nor is it an excuse. Eijiro felt guilty when Katsuki was kidnapped. Tsuyu felt guilty for reprimanding her friends for wanting to save Katsuki. Hell, if we go back to the Two Heroes movie, Izuku is shown to feel guilty about the fact that All Might's quirk is fading and David Shield doesn't know because he was never told about One for All. The list goes on, but I think we've covered most of the bases.

Plus, even after that entire fight, Katsuki proceeds to regress back to his initial behavior before and during the Shie Hassaikai arc. He doesn't want anyone getting ahead of him, so he expresses glee when the work studies might be cancelled. He wines and covers his ears like a toddler when he hears about Izuku getting ahead of him. Sure, he has a few soft moments, but they seem to be "one step forward, two steps back" sort of deals. They signify his character development, sure, but again, compared to others, it isn't much.

Well, I just finished covering why even the narrative hasn't properly handled Katsuki. Now let's move on to:

The Faulty Relationship Between Katsuki and Izuku

Now, their entire dynamic is arguably hot garbage, but I'll specifically be discussing the relationship between Katsuki and Izuku when it comes to being heroes: "Save to win, win to save" and all that stuff that happened after Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

Let me just start of by saying that Katsuki has done virtually nothing to understand this logic, at least during the beginning. While I will admit that Izuku and Katsuki's initial goals of saving and winning (respectively) are on point, in both their actions and some of their representation in the story (Katsuki only getting villain points, Izuku only getting rescue points), their development from that point is unfortunately unequal.

The thing is, Izuku has been actively working at winning part of being a hero. That's where the problem starts: if Izuku has been trying to learn how to win, Katsuki has learned virtually nothing on how to save. We can see this as early as the Entrance Exam Arc.

Let's look at the chronology of things from Izuku's perspective. He manages to pass the exam in resuce points by saving Ochako (save). He learns to slightly control his quirk during the ball toss, and manages to stay in U.A. even though he was dead last on the rankings (win). He manages to win the Battle Trial, albeit succumbing to his own injuries (win). Izuku is just trying to save people left and right during the USJ incident (save). Izuku dominates the Sports Festival Obstacle Course (win). Izuku helps his teammates during the cavalry battle, who in turn help him and the team advance to the tournament (win/save). Izuku manages to beat Hitoshi Shinsou (win). Izuku convinces Shoto to use his fire, and proceeds to lose the match (save). Izuku learns Full Cowl, allowing him to stop breaking his bones and use OFA more effectively (win/save). Izuku and company take on the Hero Killer (win/save). Izuku helps Katsuki pass the Final Exam by going back for him and dragging him out of the escape gate (win/save). Izuku manages to beat Muscular in order to save Kota (win/save). Izuku devises a plan to help save Katsuki, and later on helps encourage All Might (win/save). Izuku learns Shoot Style to ease the strain on his arms (win/save). Izuku passes the entire Provisional License Exam (win/save).

This is all before Deku vs Kacchan 2. Now, let's look at Katsuki's record:

Dominates the exam and gets first place by gaining 77 villain points (win). Gets thrid place in the Quirk Apprehension Test (win/loss(?)). Loses the Battle Trial while also refusing to cooperate with his teammate (loss). Tries blowing up Kurogiri even though Thirteen already had it covered; later on manages to corner Kurogiri just so the villains have nowhere to run (win/loss(?)). Comes in 3rd during the Sports Festival Obstacle Course (win/loss(?)). Barely knows his teammates and proceeds to act on his own interest while ordering his teammates around with a very small amount od human decency (win). Gets second place in the Cavalry Battle (win/loss(?)). Dominates in the tournament bracket, but is not satisfied with the final battle (win/loss(?)). Learns virtually nothing during his internship out of spite (loss). Refuses to cooperate with Izuku during the Final Exam, only passes because Izuku saves him (win/loss(?)). Refuses to head back to camp during a villain attack after being instructed to do so, ultimately gets captured (loss). Gets saved from the villains by his friends (win/indirect save). Learns AP Shot technique and its Auto Cannon variant (win). Passes the first half of the Provisional License Exam (win). Fails the second half due to his lack of concern for the "victims" (loss).

Which brings us back to Deku vs Kacchan 2. From what I presented above, it looks like Izuku is already dedicated to learning how to win. The problem is that Katsuki isn't learning how to save. That's probably because he's still learning how to lose. He's terrible at it, but Izuku has experience with losing because up until U.A., that's all he's been doing in the eyes of society. A loss doesn't bother Izuku unless he feels like he could have won/saved whatever his priority was at the time, like when Katsuki was kidnapped. Often when Izuku wins, it's tied with saving something. When Katsuki loses, it's either an offhanded win or just a straight up loss. That's something Katsuki isn't used to, and something the narrative hasn't managed to ammend. Mostly because Katsuki often wins more than he should if he wanted to get a better worldview, but that's only part of the problem.

As I said in a previous post, Katsuki's initial focus is solely on winning. Izuku's initial focus is solely on saving.

In Izuku's case, he also has the benefit of being open minded. If you tell him, "You have to win if you want to save," Izuku will understand that. Heck, most of his battles are often initiated because he wants to save something! Katsuki's winner mentality, however, isn't as open-ended. He wants to be the number one, end of story. No one can be stronger than him, and he'll get pissed at anyone who's "weaker" than him for whatever reason. Even if you tell him, "You have to save if you want to win," Katsuki won't fully understand that unless saving means winning Number One. That's the disconnect. Izuku will save in order to win anything. Katsuki will only win if the saving gets him to number one.

Izuku has possible standards. Katsuki's standards aren't possible, even for him.

Well, that's all I got for tonight. This post took a while, but I feel like I did good on my part. Before I completely sign off, let me leave you with this:

I honestly hope that Katsuki improves. But the thing is, I want to be shown that, not TOLD. I don't need Izuku or Class 1-A or Eraserhead or even All Might him-freaking-self telling me "Yeah, Katsuki's great!" and then proceed to see him still acting like a passive-aggressive (and sometimes flat out aggressive) asshole. I don't want him to be "soft" one moment for character development and then proceed to see him act like his usual jerkish self several moments later. I want to see Katsuki's improvement with my own two eyeballs, and for him to stick to it. I want him to progress, even in spurts, with virtually no regression. I want people to acknowledge his development, yes, but they shouldn't have to state or overstate it so many times that it feels fake. I want him to finally come to the conclusion that Winning Isn't Everything, and take that to heart.

When that happens, then I won't hate Katsuki. I might not like him significantly more, but I will have more respect for him. Until then, I'll just be here, enjoying the other parts of My Hero Academia that actually keep me invested in the story, like the protagonist, Izuku.

That's all from me. Have a good day/afternoon/evening, everyone.

-Crimson Lion (7 August 2019)

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #character analysis #discussion #meta #rant #vent #long post #late night post

206 notes · View notes

argylemnwrites · 5 years

Text

Not Exactly Sure, But Maybe Sure Enough

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Post The Royal Heir, Chapter 4)

Word Count: ~1900

Rating: PG-13 (adult language)

Summary: Riley Liu has never been much of a planner. But with the whole world seeming to be making plans for her uterus, she has to reevaluate the way she approaches challenges in her life.

Author’s Note: Written for Day 16 of the Choices July Challenge (prompt - Uncertainty). Can be seen as a companion piece to my Day 2 submission, “Living with the Consequences” (link is in my masterlist as I think that Tumblr still sometimes hates my posts with links embedded in them). Trigger warning for mention of pregnancy loss.

Wanted to take a look at the whole “Would Drake and a Drake-romancing MC really just agree to name their kid heir to the throne?” shenanigans from the perspective of my MC. After all, I probably should write more from her perspective since she is the one who would have to go through all the public scrutiny and judgement. I originally envisioned a much different piece than this, but what can I say? This just took on a life of its own!

To say that Riley Liu hadn’t always thought things through fully was a bit of an understatement. After all, you don’t get on a plane with a guy you’d known for less than 24 hours to go compete in some strange political version of The Bachelor in a foreign country without being pretty impulsive. In all honesty, so much of her life could be seen as a series of decisions she put almost no thought into, bouncing into situation after situation because it sounded fun or awesome or sometimes, just better than her current circumstances. She’d jumped from job to job, casual relationship to casual relationship, friend group to friend group endlessly. Never any roots. Never anything permanent. Until one day, she found herself with actual, real friends, not just buddies you grab a drink with once or twice a month.

There was Maxwell, who gave her a family. Hana, who showed her what trust and honesty looked like in friendship. Liam, who welcomed her with such care, even when she made it clear she didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about her. They all took her in, this flighty, detached waitress and gave her a home, both figuratively and literally. A home she shared with her husband, a concept that still in some ways felt more foreign than the fact that nearly every hero she had for the past year used apple butter instead of mayo.

Finding Drake had been something she had never dared to hope for. Here was a man who seemed to understand her soul, the fears she had that she would always be alone in the end, that she was never good enough just as she was to be a priority to anyone. Sometimes listening to Drake talk about his life felt like looking at her own experiences through a fun-house mirror. Sure, the details were different; opulent parties and snobby nobles were worlds apart from a junkie mother and a variety of foster homes. But for all that distortion, at their core, their damage was the same. And maybe that’s why things always felt so natural between them, even when she was naïve enough to think that she could have a little fling with the cute prince, catch a flight back to NYC, and have a mad story for two truths and a lie going forward, leaving Cordonia behind without a glance back.

The love she felt for her friends, her husband, her new home she would have never experienced if she had stuck to her old habits and peaced out when things got tough, less lighthearted and silly and more filled with media scandals and political drama. She knew there was a lesson to be learned there, and while she would never be one to put together a five-year plan like she knew Hana was doing, she knew Riley Walker needed to be a bit different than Riley Liu. Or at least, she needed to work on being different. For her own sake, for her loved ones’ sake, and for the sake of the citizens she now answered to. While she might have leapt into the role of duchess without much thought, she recognized that being a political figure meant that she probably shouldn’t just roll along, indulging in every whim, every adventure, every idea presented to her, without at least thinking through the consequences somewhat.

So, she was trying this new thing, taking a few minutes to run through some good and bad possibilities for any decision before she jumped in with gusto, at least when it came to the major things in her life. She wasn’t going to let being married turn her into someone boring who was always stuck in a rut, but she could aim for a little stability. Spontaneous, not impulsive - that was her new goal.

And at first it was easy, settling in at Valtoria in those first few weeks, then heading to the private island for her and Drake’s honeymoon. Telling Drake that she was ready to start a family with him, and sooner rather than later, seemed like a calm, rational follow up to their discussion of their future back during the lantern festival. If felt like something responsible adults, responsible parents did. But suddenly it seemed like that was all they talked about, really all anyone talked about around them. And Riley didn’t know how to feel about that. What was the appropriate response to Madeleine telling her that she and Drake better be having a lot of sex, other than the petulant desire to offer to fuck her husband right now if Madeleine would just leave the room? How do you respond to congratulations for a thing that hasn’t happened yet? And what the hell made her typically grumpy, jaded husband respond to Liam’s request like a seasoned diplomat?

Sure, they had a few conversations about his reasons. And she got it, kind of. But did he really not have any doubts about the whole thing? Could he not see that this increased media attention was just the beginning, that their lives were not just their lives anymore? Everyone was going to want a piece of them.

And then of course, her miscarriage happened, leaving them both shell-shocked. Super common, according to Dr. Ramirez, and no reason not to try again. But Riley didn’t know if they should try again, at least not right away. Maybe this was a sign to slow down, to not force this whole parenthood thing at such a rushed speed. But to go back on birth control felt like they were failures, letting down Liam, their friends, and all of Cordonia. Everyone seemed to need their baby so damn much, Riley couldn’t bring herself to take a few months, maybe even a year, to process her loss and heal. She could sense a similar longing in Drake, to move on together, not as public figures but just as Drake and Riley. But after agreeing to name their child heir to the throne, the sacrifice of the timing of trying for another pregnancy seemed inconsequential. What was a few months compared to years of diplomacy classes, public scrutiny, and increased security threats? So they kept trying. And a few months later, they succeeded again. But they were wiser now. No one was going to know except them and Dr. Ramirez. Riley refused to take a pregnancy test at home for that reason. She thought she could trust her staff, but then again she had trusted Gladys, and look how that turned out.

But now she was into the second trimester, out of the most dangerous window, and in certain outfits, she was starting to show. She’d had to avoid some of her favorite shirts and dresses, and Hana had made a few comments that implied that she’d figured it out for weeks now. So she and Drake invited Liam, Maxwell, Hana, Olivia, Bertrand, and Savannah over for dinner. It was exciting to share their happy news, even if they didn’t get to announce it so much as Olivia called out the ridiculousness of their charade when Riley had to excuse herself due to nausea within 30 minutes of everyone’s arrival. On the other hand, it felt a little sad, to lose that shared secret between her and her husband.

Because now this was the nation’s pregnancy, and never had that been more clear than tonight, as a stylist zipped Riley into a long gown that was as tight as clothing she’d worn before her pregnancy, clearly meant to highlight her bump that was still pretty damn small. Meanwhile, a makeup artist and a hairstylist, both also Madeleine’s “gift” for the night, primped and prodded. Kate Middleton didn’t let her hyperemesis stop her from looking polished, Madeleine had snipped when Riley balked at the whole styling crew, and her children were much farther away from the crown.

“The mother of the next monarch needs to look like a queen, not some sickly, sloppy piece of work with bags under her eyes.”

Riley had a lot of thoughts about that she would have expressed if she was so damn exhausted, so she settled instead for a middle finger thrust in Madeleine’s direction. Oh well, a little impulsivity was probably excusable under these circumstances.

It all felt so surreal, attending this ball thrown in honor of her son or daughter who was still just a possibility at this point. A lot still could go wrong here, not the least of which was her puking on some diplomat’s shoes in the next hour. As she sat waiting for Madeleine to come and get her, letting her know that they were ready for her entrance as the womb that carried the guest of honor, she felt like she was walking through a fog. Riley Liu would have said, “Screw this shit,” and run away, hopping on a flight or catching a bus. Getting the hell out of this world full of pressure and expectations and demands. But Riley Walker couldn’t do that. She had obligations, and she had to see them through.

She heard the door opening, but didn’t turn to face Madeleine, wanting a few more moments with just her child, no matter how fleeting they would be.

“Hey, so I got a plan to get us out of there in 90 minutes. Two hours, tops.”

She let out a sigh of relief before she even fully processed her husband’s words. He was always finding ways to give them a little more time to be just… them. Not a duke and duchess, and now not the future king or queen’s parents. Just Drake, Riley, and now their little one.

“How’d you manage that?” she asked, turning towards him as he crossed the room and crouched down in front of her chair. She noticed he hadn’t escaped Madeleine’s grooming plans, wearing a brand new black suit with his hair parted awkwardly to one side.

“Easy. I got Maxwell to agree to give a toast that will last a minimum of 15 minutes as an ode to the best childhood moments of all of Cordonia’s kings and queens. I figure we slip out to get you some air, and we just never come back. Hana’s promised to deflect any questions about our location after we make our escape.”

She reached down, giving him a gentle smile as she ran a hand through his hair, getting rid of that awful part. Now he looked and sounded like her husband.

All too quickly, their moment of privacy was shattered as Madeleine bustled in, taking one look at Drake’s hair and rolling her eyes.

“And just what do you think you two are doing? You’re supposed to make your entrance in less than a minute!”

“Just taking a moment in between,” Riley said as Drake stood up, squeezing her hand as he pulled her to her feet.

“Well, moment’s over. Let’s get going.”

It wasn’t how she would have chosen to go about this whole pregnancy thing, but for better or worse, this was how it was happening. As Drake held tight to her hand as they walked down the hallway, she was glad for was many doubts and uncertainties as she had about this entire heir-to-the-throne situation, at least they were fumbling through this together. They might have both been out of their element, but they had each other, and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to get them through all of it.

Tags: @dcbbw @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley–walker @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @butindeed @choicesjulychallenge @kinda-iconic @mfackenthal

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr #trh #the royal romance #the royal heir #trr fanfic #trh fanfic #choices trr #choices trh #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices fanfiction #choices july challenge #tw: miscarriage #tw: pregnancy loss

59 notes · View notes

welcometocaritas · 4 years

Text

‘IF YOU LOVE ME, DON’T LET Go’

First chapter of my yumagna fic is out ladies and gentlebabies!

Chapter: 2/7

Characters: Yumiko & Magna

Pairing: Yumagna

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Format: Multi-Chap

Summary: At some point, you just have to let go - or so Yumiko keeps telling herself.There was never any letting go of Magna.

Links: A03, FF.NET, Wattpad

A/N: This is a shorter chapter and is basically just a little look at Magna's history (I'll be getting into Yumiko's around about chapter 6).

I really didn't mean to make Magna's backstory as angsty as I did, it just sort of . . . happened as I was trying to figure out where her head's been at with her relationship with Yumiko, and why she's been doing some of the things she has. I don't take some of the situations I've used lightly, especially since they can be extremely triggering for people and I wanted everyone in the fandom to be able to read this. The child sexual abuse is in there because I'm pretty sure that's what the show was implying when they mentioned Magna's cousin. Everything's pretty much implied or referenced. I don't think I go into great detail. There are no actual scenes with the stuff.

So I've done some half-assessed calculations that are probably shit but I'm gonna go with them for the sake of this story - I'm a little worried that lack of sleep might have made me mess up some of the maths but oh well. I used the actresses' real ages for this, went back 10 years to before the apocalypse so Yumiko would have been around 27 and Magna around 22. Now Magna had to have been out of prison long enough to get a job - which is NOT easy to do but I decided to grant her a stroke of luck and had her being out of prison for around at least a year. Now Michonne mentioned hard prison time - whether Magna actually experienced much of this time, or if it was just that she expected to and got a tattoo before being allowed out early is up in the air - and I've gone with giving her about three-four years in prison, because I didn't really want to drop below the age of 17 for her being sentenced. I'm headcannoning their meeting when Miko was 24 and Magna was 19, so about her second-third year in prison.

Also my understanding of the law is . . . not great? I basically only know what I've gleaned from reading about injustices and corruption in the system so if you're a lawyer and notice any mistakes please don't crucify me and I didn't do much research for this story when I normally do heaps cos I wanted to get it finished quickly. However, I have based a lot of the incidents mentioned throughout this fic on real situations/cases that I've read about so there is that element of truth to it. I did my best anyway. I think the issue will be that there are a lot of variations between states and laws changing over the years. I recently fell down a Proven Innocent rabbit hole because Rachelle Lefevre playing a bisexual is hard to pass up and, like with Nadia Hilker, I'm addicted to her hair (Abbey knows I have a hair fetish, she understands my weakness when it comes to these things).

"I learned at a young age that if I was ever going to see justice for the wrongs done to me, I had to find it myself."

― Erin Merryn

. . .

Magna didn't think she'd ever regret what she did - the bastard deserved it, and if the justice system wasn't such a joke she never would have had to go to such lengths - but she did regret what it had done to her relationship with Miko. What she had done. Lying wasn't difficult for her - even if she had always preferred a more blunt approach, along with the honesty that entailed - but lying to Yumiko had been . . .

She'd hated every second of it. Hated even more the toxic resentment that had started to build up inside her as a result, the way a gentle kiss could make her stomach turn, her thoughts sickening her as they bubbled up from the dark pit in which she tried to keep them contained; the number of times a loving look had made her want to snap, to let the truth fly free and watch as everything between them burnt to ashes.

(it'd be everything she had been waiting for, after all - for thirteen years)

Because Miko . . . Miko was so good. And she cared so much, sometimes more than Magna could bear, and none of it was real. All those feelings had grown from a lie that she'd never had the courage to uproot, to set before them and watch as the disgust bled into her lover's - her best friend's - eyes. Because Miko thought she was good as well, and whilst Magna didn't think that what she'd done was wrong, she also knew it wasn't right. Justice, maybe- definitely, but not Miko's version of justice. Not part of the framework she had chosen to study and dedicate her life to. Magna's version of justice didn't fit in her world, couldn't and worse . . .

Neither did Magna.

She hadn't been able to trust Yumiko's love for her, that it could withstand the impact of truly knowing her; and in the end, she'd only sabotaged what she had hoped to protect. She was self-aware enough to realize that part of that had been intentional. When their relationship had crossed over the border of friendship, when they had gotten all that more close, too close, something inside Magna had rebelled. Something panicky and defensive, revolting at the love that was building inside her, the safety she felt lying in Miko's arms (a place she never wanted to leave); that fear that it was only temporary, too temporary, that one day Miko would wake up and realize just who she'd fallen into bed with, and then it would all be over. The longer it continued the worse it would hurt. She hadn't been able to wait around for it to get to that stage. Instead, she'd forced the gears into rapid motion, propelling herself towards that inevitable heartbreak whilst she still had some heart left for herself, before she gave it all away to Miko.

(and deep down, knowing it was already too late, that Yumiko had taken her heart years ago, and Magna had barely murmured a protest)

It had been impulsive. And stupid.

And after everything was said and done it still fucking hurt. It hurt so much she could barely breathe in the aftermath.

She hadn't been able to save herself from that.

And she'd tried to explain to Miko why she'd done it but it had been a poor attempt, born more out of spite than any rational thinking. She hadn't even really tried. Because in the end, she hadn't seen the point. Wasted energy. Wasted hope. She couldn't see a future in which Miko would be able to understand. To understand and forgive her and love her still.

Because she couldn't understand, not really.

(and sometimes she hated her for that)

Because Miko was a good ass fucking lawyer and she had seen the system work as a result, but all Magna had ever known were its failures: how she'd had to move in with her uncle and his wife after her mum had gone to prison for killing her own father, never mind that it had been in self-defense; and later, watching the sick bastard who'd preyed on her cousin be allowed to walk free even after pleading guilty - rather, from what she'd gathered, because he had pled guilty, his easy compliance and willingness to accept a deal leading him to walk free with barely a slap on the wrist fine and a registration as a level 1 sex couldn't even search his name or address on the local registry when he was considered that low a risk.

How the fuck was any of that justice?

Though, she supposed she should be grateful, in a way. That same system that had wreaked havoc across her life had also allowed her to be released after only serving four years - less than - when Miko had found far too many ways to poke holes in her case; much better than the life sentence she'd been staring into ever since she'd left the courthouse for the final time.

To be fair, the case against her had been less than flimsy in the first place, the evidence circumstantial at best - they'd never even found the murder weapon. Surprisingly, all those cop shows she'd binged growing up actually came in handy for something. She wasn't an idiot, she planned ahead, did what she could to cover up.

But she'd also been realistic. She'd known back when the crime was still only a hypothetical in her head that getting away with it wasn't the most likely outcome, that she'd probably go to prison, maybe even for the rest of her life. But as long as he didn't get to live his - as long as he wasn't given a chance to do to another child what he'd done to her cousin -that had seemed like an acceptable price. It wasn't like she'd had much going for her, anyway. Hell, given the state of her bank account and failed education, she probably would have ended up going to jail for petty theft one day, regardless.

And at least you got free boarding and meals in prison - though she would have rather starved and slept on the street than feel so trapped every second of her life, to the point that when freedom did come it was that which felt unnatural to her.

If Magna's court-appointed lawyer hadn't been breaking under the weight of over a hundred ongoing cases she might never have been sentenced in the first place. Not that she had even had it in her to care at the time. Even now, those months were almost a complete blank in her memory. She could remember that she'd been in a daze for most of it, that she hadn't been feeling much of anything - a welcome liberation from the all-consuming rage that had burned within her for months before she drew that knife: not when the police locked her in handcuffs that pinched at her skin; not sitting in that courtroom with the press of too many people's eyes on her; and not when the door to her prison cell had slammed shut for the first time.

She could maybe recall her lawyer snapping at her more than once, frustrated and helpless as she refused to offer more than the occasional one word answer or grunt.

Years later, when Miko had finally come onto the scene, she'd been far more awake to her circumstances; too awake.

But she'd do it all over again, even now. Even with the memory of that look haunting the space between them, the way her heart had drawn in on itself, shuddering under the weight of all the judgment she'd expected but still not been prepared for.

He deserved it.

How could she let him just walk away?

How did Magna explain to Miko that the law she'd devoted her life to was nothing but shit? It was all gone now, anyway, the system that had ruined her life fallen away into dust along with the rest of civilization.

But Miko . . . Miko still looked on that lost world fondly, she missed it in a way that Magna never could and . . . even with all that rage boiling inside of her, begging her for an outlet, she couldn't take that from her; didn't want to.

One of them should have something worth remembering in this nightmare.

Magna could be selfish. She'd be the first to admit it. But she was also incredibly selfish about the people she loved. They came first - and fuck the rest of the world. And Miko . . . Miko was on the top of that list. It had killed her, being stuck in that cave, knowing that she had hurt her, that the last thing she would probably ever do in this sorry life was hurt the only woman she had ever loved.

And she wouldn't do that again.

Except she probably would. Because that's what she did.

She messed everything up. Including her and Miko.

But maybe that was for the best. She and Miko . . . they weren't compatible. They were like oil and water that had fallen into the same bowl and ended up stuck together, but always separate; Magna heavy and sinking to the bottom whilst Yumiko floated to the top, always.

They weren't meant to bond.

(but they did and they did it so well that-)

She didn't think she would ever be as open and trusting as Miko - but life experience warned her that that was probably a good thing, especially if she wanted to survive in a world where the dead wanted to eat you and most of the living wanted to kill you. It scared her, how easily Miko - and even Connie and Luke - let people in. She was terrified it was going to get them killed one day.

Kelly was more like Magna in that respect. They were both always preparing themselves for the eventual fallout. It was why Magna hadn't even had to bring up the idea of creating a stash - they'd both already fallen into the familiar habit of scrounging away what they could. In the past, that kind of safety net had been the difference between life and death. She hadn't felt good about it. Of course she hadn't. She liked the people at Hilltop, as much as she liked anyone who she couldn't allow herself to grow attached to, and she was so fucking grateful to be taken in by them, to finally have a home. But homes never lasted. Even before the Apocalypse they were nothing but a false promise you would end up hanging yourself with if you didn't keep your guard up. And Yumiko, Connie, Luke and Kelly were hers. They were her people. And at the end of the day, they came first. She had to protect them. Even if it meant doing things that they would never agree to, things they might later end up hating her for.

And Kelly. . . Kelly understood that because she was hard in a way that the others weren't and she had Connie. Kelly would do anything for Connie.

The thing was, even if she and Yumiko decided to try again, even if they could move past this, Magna didn't think she could change that part of herself. She didn't want to change it. How could she when it had the potential to keep Miko alive? She would rather destroy their relationship beyond repair than one day have to drive a knife through Miko's skull because she had failed to do the only thing she had ever been any good at - keeping them just that little inch further away from death's door.

Ten years and most of their group was still alive whilst the rest of the world had become a sea of ravenous corpses and that . . . that had to count for something.

It had to.

. . .

"What are you afraid of?

that you love him

or that you 've lost him

either way the heart beating in your chest

didn 't originally belong to you."

— You'll Be Buried With Him Painted Over You by Abby S

A/N: I tried to think about what kind of life experiences might have shaped Magna to be someone who could do what she did. Cos no matter how many of us might want to punish bastards like that when they do commit these crimes, most of us don't actually do it. There are things that restrain us. Certain moral codes, fear, faith in the justice system, having things that we don't want to lose, not being ready to sacrifice our freedom and our future if we get caught. For whatever reason, most people just don't cross that line. So I thought a lot about what we'd seen of Magna and the kind of person she is and how her past might have shaped her to be able to make that choice. I mean Magna cares about the people she considers hers a lot and she's very protective, so that's obviously a large part of it, but I knew there also had to be more. Also it's my head cannon that Magna loves kids, like they're one of her weak spots, but she keeps her distance from them because they remind her of her cousin, and because of the person she's become since her cousin died. . . . OK, just gonna do a little shameless self-promotion, hope you don't mind :)

I made a yumagna vid so if you haven't seen it already and you're interested it's here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grzrpr0QZEE (I'm gonna do more so if you want to stay in the loop subscribe to my youtube channel. I'll probs end up doing a short one for Unsteady because of this fic but I'm holding out till we get a yumagna hug)

I have an insta for yumagna called @yumagnas.home . my multifandom one is @bonnielextra (lots of awesome women that i make edits for just fyi) and my personal one is @cissyalice. Hit me up so I can follow some more yumagna stans!

My twitter is @bonnielextra and @tocaritas (for my edits). Currently just a lot of crying about yumagna on the first one.

And my tumblr is welcometocaritas. Obviously no pressure to look at any of these but I just thought I'd put them in just case :)

#yumagna #magniko #the walking dead #magna twd #yumiko twd #yumiko x magna #yumagna edit #yumagna fanfic #nadia hilker #eleanor matsuura #twd edit #twd fanfiction #mypost #my post #myfic

2 notes · View notes

smitten-miqitten · 5 years

Text

The Begrudging Misadventures of Era Hess and an Arrogant Ascian Ghost: Ch 3. Whatever have you done?

Ao3 Link Here

I promise the story gets more lighthearted after this.

............................................................

[......]

[....must end....]

A shadowed voice in the cold dark distance of Era's mind called out unintelligibly, strain though she might to hear it. She felt like she was drifting within herself, unable to find the purchase necessary to wake. Too vast was this space, too void of what ought to be present:Memories, feelings, dreams.... How infinitesimally small she was in the face of it all. She reached out, looking for anything at all to hold onto, anything that was hers....

"....ro. Heroooo....Era".

Era's eyes snapped open. She sat up in a panic, trying to ascertain where she was.

[See? Twas her name which did the trick], chuckled the voice of Hythlodaeus. He was sitting on a couch some ways from the bed on which she lay, looking comically large in comparison to it. Everything about the room bore decor in line with the rest of Amaurot, yet it was sized properly to her, rather than the usual denizens. The room was dim, lit by some few lamps and the gloomy light drifting in through the windows, a byproduct of the sea above. Upon the windowseat across from her lounged Hades. He was gazing at her with a look that seemed...expectant.

"And so it did! Welcome back to the waking world, hero", said Hades cheerfully, reverting to the usual moniker. "You remembered something, yes? Something small and insignificant, perhaps, but something nonetheless! Alas, you collapsed not long after", he tutted, though with none of his customary disapproval.

[Your soul was in quite a state during. I think it unwise to push too strongly, fractured as you still are], Hythlodaeus cautioned, earning a glare from Hades.

"She hasn't yet remembered anything of import, and you want her to stop?"

[I don't truly want anything, as you know. I am but a shadow. As for her condition, tis plain that her soul cannot handle overmuch of such strain in its current state], He scolded.

"Oh , don't say that. You'll only give him ideas", Era groaned, head still swimming. "Gods, it felt like an Echo vision, but without the usual distortion. As if I were living it. Really disorienting. I was tall, you were nice..."

"What? I'm not nice? After all I've done to help you and yours?" Mock offense colored his voice, a smirk on his lips. "Why, I even gave you your own room". He gestured around him.

She ignored him, as was usually the best option. "Did your lot always wear the masks? My...her hood was down because she had been alone in the room, but she still had her mask on".

"Our lot. And yes, we rarely removed them unless to sleep or bathe. Rather personal, to look fully upon one's face. Even amongst those closest to you, one would keep it on in most cases. We'd seen one another's faces, but twas still most comfortable for we two to wear masks the majority of the time. Before you ask, yes, the face I currently bear is near identical, save what changes were necessary to blend in with the populace. I have ever been a creature of habit."

"Did you...we ever end up making the larger Nu Mou?"

Hades frowned, eyes distant. "No, other matters demanded our attention. The great keening from the ground was heard not terribly long after that day, and our every waking moment was consumed with investigating the source. Mayhap that is why you remembered this and not other things. One last happy memory."

[...madness..]

[...this..madness..]

Era clutched at her head, feeling a sight ache, but it was soon to pass. Shaking it, she continued her inquiry. "In the memory, you called me a member of the Convocation. Seeing as I am not a member of your current ranks, I take it I was the fourteenth that the people here speak of. The one that left."

His face grew dark again, though Era had predicted that. "Very insightful. Indeed, you are the fourteenth. You were never replaced, so the seat remains yours to this day. Empty. And so we come to the crux of the issue, from which all the apologies you owe spring: Why. This I will not tell you, lest you ask. If you remember nothing else, I would see you remember that. Ideally before I fade for good, if you would be so kind", his own tone not kind in the slightest. The hate that laced his voice curiously did not reach his eyes, however.

Whatever it was she had done, he had clearly never forgiven her for it. Era could hazard a guess as to what it was, given the circumstances there wasn't much else it could be, but she did not think he would not accept an apology based on guesswork. Nor did she want to offer one, until she could see for herself that it was warranted.

[.....this madness..must..end...]

[My friend!] Hythlodaeus called out in alarm, for Era had started to clutch at her head once more. The pain was not fading now, rather growing worse with each passing second.

"Leave it!" Hades spat, preventing the shade from going to her side, forcing Hythlodaeus to dissipate. He could see it as well; her soul was in disarray, flaring brightly at random intervals. He cared little for the risks, however. If he could not see the resurrection of his people to fruition, if he could never truly walk the streets of Amaurot again, at least, the very least, he would have his apology.

[This madness must end, Hades!]

.....................................................................

[How is it madness?!], Hades shouted back. They were outside one of the most recently reconstructed buildings in the aftermath of the star's rescue by Zodiark's power. She had been avoiding him, avoiding all the members of the convocation, but he knew she would want to see the reconstruction progress with her own eyes and so sought her out here.

So much had been sacrificed to bring the world back from the brink that efforts to rebuild were slow at best. Til recently, she had busied herself with wandering the revived lands, recreating plants and animals to restore balance to the world's ecosystem. And to not have to see his tempered soul that so pained her to behold.

She was a pariah, welcomed only by virtue of how fervently she had fought the beasts that had laid waste to their home (from which she yet bore scars), her offer to take the place of a sacrifice on both occasions that the deed had to be done, and by the talent she wielded that had led the Convocation to reject the offers. Her refusal to once again take up her seat of office, her refusal to pay homage to Zodiark, these things alienated her from the remaining survivors. Ungrateful. Cowardly. Irresponsible. All accusations brushed past her seemingly unheard; she would not give.

And so it fell to Hades, her dearest, closest companion, to make her see reason. [It would be a fraction at the worst! A small fraction of all the life that this star will foster, in return for all those we have lost! How can you not want this?]

[Of course I want them back! I want everything back! I want you back, above all! But you are a fool to think that it will end at a small fraction, blinded by the spell Zodiark has cast on your soul. Your tempering deafens you to the reality of the situation. Zodiark will take all you have to give, til there is naught left!]

[And again you defame the very reason we may stand here to bicker! Were it not by Zodiark's grace, we would all be long dead! And you knew as much the day you abandoned your post!]

[I did not abandon it willingly. You would not see reason! There had to have been another way, if only you would have helped me find it. The source of the issue itself, if we but could have understood it, we would surely have been able to amend it. One half?! One half of everyone left?! The price was far too high!]

[There was no time! You searched and searched, and still identified no alternative! No viable way by which we might have averted the catastrophe without such loss. And you yet paint us villains]. The betrayal he felt was evident, and broke her heart to hear.

Her face softened at this accusation, the words cutting deep. Reaching for him, she said, voice breaking, [Not villains, never that, never you. Victims. Though he saved us as you claim, he yet has you in his thrall, unable to see any other way forward]. She was holding him now, voice muffled somewhat by his chest upon which her face was pressed.

[Though I miss them dearly, I know not a one would wish to see another sacrificed on their behalf. They did not save us expecting to be revived with the lives of all that came after. They wanted, as we ever have, only to protect our star. What stewards are we if we do so? What right have we to their lives? So too, then, does a parent have the right to sacrifice their children to save their friends?]

She knew her words did not reach him, could not reach him. Zodiark or no, they disagreed, plain and simple. It seemed, for the first time since meeting in childhood, that they had reached an impasse. He could only bear to look to the past, she to the future. The alternative for either was too painful to bear. She would chart a new course, and see him free of his enthrallment, and he would suffer it gladly, for eternity if need be, should it mean the return of their people.

Hades looked down at her in horror, that she would equate his goals to the sacrifice of children. Even in the final days they had not resorted to such things. Raising her face to look at him, he asked, [Is that truly what you think of me?]

[No, Hades. You are ever and always the champion of our people. You take upon yourself every burden, every guilt. That], she said with an odd, somber smile, [is how I see you. I, however, am better suited to the title of villain]. She began to pull away, but Hades held fast to her, fearing the intent behind those words.

[What do you mean by that? In what way are you the villain?], He questioned fiercely, but she merely shook her head, maintaining the odd sad smile. [My friend, do you truly think me so changed you no longer trust me enough to answer?] Hades asked quietly, fearing her response.

Shaking her head again, she replied, [No, no. Hades, you are the only person I trust. Ever have you been, and ever shall you remain, come what may. Tis Zodiark I do not trust, and until the day you are free of him I must be cautious in word and deed. For how can he not know all that you do, bound as you are?]

She reached to remove his mask, as well as her own. Looking him full in the face, she continued, [Know this, my dearest friend, you who knows me better than any other, that everything I do from here on is for your benefit and that of this star. Even should you come to curse my name, I shall never hate you for it. For it was my failure that brought all to this point, no wrongdoing of yours]

And with that, she left, whisked away by a spell she had prepared long before he had even arrived. She had meant to be found, he saw that now, so as to say her piece. He knew then he would not see her again, no matter how thoroughly he searched, until whatever she was plotting came to fruition. His mask that she had been holding clattered to the ground, breaking the heavy silence.

[Why must you be so stubborn?] He bemoaned, throat tight and face hot, fighting back tears.

.............

And see her again he did not. By the time she had brought her plan to bear, she was no more, spent in the summoning of her great and terrible champion. Spent and split and sundered.

He watched in horror as Zodiark was struck down, and every conceivable thing was divided many times over. Reduced in all respects, the world made weaker, frail and wanting. All...except for him and two others.

How?! How was this better?! How could she have thought this the only alternative, the only way forward? And this was to be to his benefit? This... nightmare...was because of him?

[My friend...] He cried, his anguish immeasurable [whatever have you done?!]

.....................................................................

"Hades", Era croaked, coming to with tears streaming from her eyes. He was already at her side, staring at her intently. His eyes widened a little upon hearing her speak; it was the first time she'd said his true name aloud.

"Another fun trip down memory lane? You seem less weakened from this one. It would seem Hylthodaeus's assessment was incorrect."

"I remember, Hades. The sundering. But I shouldn't. She was gone, when it happened, she wouldn't have known it went wrong. I saw your memory."

"Went wrong?" His brows furrowed.

"She...she meant only to bind Zodiark, to seal him away so he could no longer feast on aether. To protect the new life from his ravenous hunger. That was what Hydelyn was supposed to do. But she had also a conflicting wish; she wanted to free you from your tempering. Sealing...wouldn't have been enough. So instead Hydelyn's power became to weaken him, and in so doing weaken his hold on your souls. But even that failed." She paused to sob, overwhelmed from sharing in the emotions of two ancient beings. "I saw the last time the two of you spoke. She chose then and there to become the villain, to carry it all on her shoulders. She never dreamed she would end up saddling you with that burden instead. She never wanted that, never wanted you to suffer!"

That was not at all what he was expecting to hear. All of this, an accident? That she could have been so foolhardy...."Now, now do you finally see why things must be put to rights? Why the rejoinings are imperative?" Hades implored, a last attempt to make her agree. But Era shook her head, as her predecessor had so long ago.

"No. Regardless of the result, her chief goal was and is still the preservation of all life upon this star. That includes its reflections, in all their faded glory. And her secondary goal is nearly complete. You are no longer tempered, are you not?" Era's breathing was still strained, but her sobbing had ceased. She was returning to herself. "Nor, I imagine, is Lahabrea. Though I can't say either she or I are thrilled with the method."

"So that's it then. You will stay your course, and we shall fade into oblivion", Hades sighed, resigned. There was no winning, it seemed, neither then nor now. Gone were the days that she heeded him.

"I won't let that happen either", Era said, eyes fiery and fierce. "I will find a way to see that you are remembered at the least, if I can do nothing else. And for that I will need someone to teach me. Happen to know any amiable, unemployed ascians?"

He stared at her, dumbfounded by her gall...and could not help but to laugh at the absurdity. She may have a new face, a new name, a new life...but she had changed not at all.

"Ah, but I've neglected the most important thing!" She exclaimed.

"Oh"?

She looked at him with the utmost sincerity in her eyes. Smiling, she reached for his hands, holding them in her own.

"I'm sorry".

#shadowbringers spoilers #shb spoilers #5.0 spoilers #my self indulgent minifics #rather less 'mini' now though I guess #era hess #emet selch #ancient wol #I promise everything after this will be way less angsty #but there was just no way there wouldn't have been things to resolve before being friends again #absolutely no way

10 notes · View notes

shanastoryteller · 6 years

Note

I just love your gods and monsters stories! I have been a fan of mythology since I was old enough to read and your takes on the stories are a modern breath of freshness. I was wondering if you were going on touch on Eris maybe?

a continuation of X

It hasn’t even been a day, the party for the wedding isstill in full swing. There are pockets of arguments, but nothing interesting haseven happened yet when Ares corners herand says, “I know it was you.”

Hebe goes cold. She wants to deny it, to lie and worm herway out of it, but if he already knows then there’s no point. She can’t dodamage control by pretending that the damage isn’t there. “Have you toldanyone?”

He raises an eyebrow. “And ruin all your hard work?” Hesounds sarcastic, but like he’s serious too. She just stares at him, waiting,and he sighs. “No, I haven’t told anyone.”

“Are you going to?”

“I should,” he snaps. “This is dangerous, and stupid. Thereare better ways to get power. There are easierways to power. You don’t need to do this.”

She grins, because he’s not going to stand against her. He’sgoing to glare and lecture, he might even nurse a grudge, but he’s not going totell. She doesn’t need his approval, only his silence. “I don’t want power tobe given to me. I want to take it.” She hesitates, because she doesn’t meanthis in a hurtful sort of way, but says it anyway. “Father declared you the godof war, and so that’s what you became. Hephaestus made himself from nothing,made things from nothing for the mortals, and so that’s what they named him. Themortals declared him to be a god of crafting and so that’s what he became. ButI don’t want to depend on Father or mortals.”

“If your power comes from neither from the Pantheon nor thepeople, then where?” he asks, and thankfully he doesn’t seem hurt, onlyskeptical.

“From where the first gods got theirs,” she answers. “Theywere granted nothing and took everything. I’m going to do the same.”

He blinks, then smiles for the first time during thisconversation. “Chaos bore the gods, and so you will become a god of chaos?”

It’s not quite the same, the chaos that birthed the universeand the chaos she’s capable of claiming are not one in the same. But they’relinked, and she plans to use that link to her advantage. “Yes.”

Her brother frowns and rubs at his chin. His hair is looseand long around his hips, how he likes to keep but is rarely able to because itgets in his way during battle, and his chiffon is silk, something else he likesbut doesn’t often get the opportunity to experience. “One golden apple and acouple of feuds aren’t going to cut it, not if you want it to last. A slowbuild is all well and good, and worked fine for Hephaestus. But that’s not whatyou need. You need this to be a stone in a river, you need ripples, and largeones at that.”

“A couple of feuding major goddesses are pretty big ripples,”she points out.

“It’s not a bad start,” he agrees, and she’s going to smackhim. “But it can be bigger. It can be more, you can make it be more, and you knowthat. Why aren’t you doing it? Why aren’t you pushing it further?”

She looks away from him and admits, “I don’t want to causeyou more trouble.”

He’s talking about a war. If she really wants to be thegoddess of chaos, then a terrible war would be a wonderful beginning. Butstarting a war when her beloved brother is so hurt by them seems cruel, and shedoes not aspire to be the goddess of cruelty.

Ares grins, sharp and dangerous. He did not want to be thegod of war, but no one can deny he’s good at it, that he’s molded his unwantedpower into something deadly and different and entirely his own. “There willalways be war, my dear sister. The humans simply don’t know what to do if they’renot spilling blood. Maybe they learned that from watching us. There will alwaysbe another war, I will always inevitably be summoned to the battlefield. Onemore terrible war won’t change that.”

“You really don’t mind?” she asks, cautious, because shewants it so badly she can taste it, but she won’t run roughshod over herbrother just to get when she wants.

“What do you care?” he asks, but he’s still fond. “You wishto claim the primordial power of chaos for yourself. Strike fast, and strikehard. I’ll take care of myself, whatever destruction you bring.” She throwsherself at him, and he catches her easily, pressing a kiss against her cheek. Heputs her back on her feet, then pushes her back into the party. “Go. You havemore work to do.”

Hebe grabs a flute of nectar out of the hand of the closestnymph, who is outraged at the audacity until he sees who has taken his drink,and then he only bows his head ins submissions.

For now, they cower from her because she is the daughter ofHera and Zeus, because she is the sister of Ares and Hephaestus. But that won’tlast.

Soon, they will cower from her because she’ll have the powerto unmake them all, and this is her beginning.

To the fairest,says the apple, and she’d left it ambiguous on purpose, because she wasn’t surehow she was going to play it. An argument about beauty among goddesses is allwell and good, but not something they’ll wage war over.

“Who could it be for?” she asks, eyes wide and innocent, thesad and simple daughter of Hera. “Is not death the great equalizer of men?Perhaps it is for Hades.”

Minor arguments of beauty have been brewing all evening, butat this, everyone pauses, and looks at the golden apple with renewed interest.

“Clearly it is for me,” Aphrodite proclaims, who hadn’tcared for the apple when it was only a trophy to physical perfection. “For lovecomes to all, no matter the status and circumstances.”

Athena’s eyes narrow. Hebe is never quite sure if the twogoddesses loved or hated each other, and often it seemed as if they didn’t knoweither. “Oh, how can love be fair, when it cuts so deeply? Perhaps it is inmatters of intellect and warfare where true fairness lies, for all people can excelregardless of their history.”

Hephaestus usually sticks close to his wife, but at themoment he’s nowhere to be found, which is strange, because Hebe had seen himearlier. But what it means is there’s no one to restrain Aphrodite when shesteps into Athena’s space and says softly, dangerously,“The pursuit of intellect belongs to the privileged and the lazy, while lovestrikes all equally.”

“Please, don’t fight!” Hebe cries, stepping between them. “Letus settle this without discourse. Perhaps an outside party to decide who isfairest between you? A mortal, since it is upon your fairness to mortals thatyou each claim the prize.”

“A fine idea, daughter.” Hera’s voice rings like the tollingof a bell across the party, and all fall silent as their queen walks towardsthem. Hebe tenses, because if anyone besides Ares can see through her, it isher mother. But Hera barely glances at her, instead striding into the middle oftheir semi circle with hair in complicated curls and piled high, a moreintimidating crown than any gold or jewels she could wear. “But truly thefairest of us is I. For I am the goddess of family, and even those who have nointellect nor love to claim for their own have a family connected either byblood or by choice. Clearly I am the fairest of the Pantheon.”

For a moment, Hebe fears this will be the end, and bothAphrodite and Athena will lower their eyes and acquiesce the title of fairestto their queen.

But Hebe had not spent months calling magic from chaos andpressing it into molten gold for nothing. Without her influence, without thecall for conflict her golden apple exudes, perhaps it would have been nothing,perhaps it would have all amounted to nothing.

Her golden apple refuses to be nothing. It tugs and pulls atthem, it’s enticing strife demanding to be used.

Aphrodite and Athena, the motherless daughters of Zeus,stand against Hera, Queen of the Gods.

This is still small, still a not-quite-argument, but sheknows what it will grow into. This is the beginning of a Great War, one born andnurtured by her magic. It will be of chaos, and so shall she be of chaos.

By this war’s end, they will curse her name. Eris, chaoschild, the child of nothing more than the elements themselves.

Hebe will always love Hera, but Eris will have no origins.Chaos came before all else, and it has no mother.

Hades is walking down the hall of his palace, and then in thenext moment he is not, he is in a place that is not quite here nor there, norreally any other place either.

There are only three beings who can move him in such a way,and he’s looking at all of them.

“Fates,” he murmurs, inclining his head. “To what do I owethe pleasure?”

“It has begun,” Lachesis rasps, a woman in the prime of herlife and empty eye sockets. “A primordialgoddess will soon walk this earth once more.”

An equally blind little girl runs her hand down the air infront of her, and for the briefest moments Hades sees a shining silver thread,one of the millions that the women are constantly weaving. “We could change it.Alter the destiny. It would just be one little snip.”

“All things must end,” comes the creaky, barely there voiceof the crone, the single violet eye the fates share between them in her face.Atropos glares at her counterparts, and he knows that they can tell, eventhough they don’t have eyes. It was them that taught Charon to see withoutseeing so long ago, after all. “So this girl is the beginning of the end. Weare born, and we will die.”

“Then we will be born again,” the child adds. Clotho remindshim of Styx too often, and he must remember that though she may look like achild, she’s not one, not even in the same way that Styx is no ordinary child. Thefates play by a different set of rules. “Perhaps I like this world. Perhaps Ido not want to leave it just yet.”

“We have time,” Hades says, and they all turn and look athim, swinging their bodies around in unison in a way that he doesn’t think he’llever get used to seeing. “The beginning of the end may be here, but the end isstill a far off thing.”

Atropos says, wry, “To master time is not to be a master toall that works within it, Kronos.”

Hades flinches. No one calls him that. Very few even know tocall him that. It’s been a long time since primordial gods walked the earth, long before Cronus and Rhea came together to make his current form. “I know that.”

“From chaos we were born and into chaos we shall fade,”Clotho says. “How long can you avoid your end, Father of Time? How long untilnot even your time can save you?”

Hades almost smiles, but restrains himself. He’s doesn’tthink they’d appreciate it. “Thank you for the warning, Fates. I will keep myeye on the ticking clock.” On the clock he controls, of course.

Their hands are moving through the air, touching strings hecannot see and rearranging them faster than his eyes can follow. “Goodbye, Kingof Death, Father of Time.”

Hades inclines his head, but doesn’t bother to voice his owngoodbye. Once they resume weaving, he knows they can no longer hear him.

He returns to his castle under his own power, and goes insearch of his wife. Persephone must be told first, after all.

Hebe is not the first god to reach for the power of chaos. Butmaybe it is time for the beginning of the end, maybe they should let her keepwhat she’s so desperate to steal.

Just because it nearly destroyed Dionysus doesn’t mean itwill destroy her.

gods and monsters series, part xxviii

read more of the gods and monsters series here

#gods and monsters series #eris #hebe #ares #trojan war #apple of discord #kronos is not chronus #similar names 2 very different gods #to everyone who figured out hades was kronos thanks to all the references to time i've made across this series #i saw you and you are valid af #also we're finally getting into dionysus #and the whole hades backstory #anon #asks #i added in a line to hopfeully clarify the hades/kronos and chronus thing #sorry!!!#many people were confused by that

835 notes · View notes

alteriius · 6 years

Note

“Shouldn’t you be with him/her?”

FANDOM: Final Fantasy XVPAIRING: Prompto/Luna, One-Sided Prompto/NoctisWORD COUNT: 1,734LINKS: AO3 | KOFI | Prompt POST / TAG

There’s a bitter taste in his mouth and he hates it. What an ugly person he must be to look up at his best friend at his wedding and be angry. It makes him ill to stare up at them, to see the fake all-business smiles and think about the feelings he has for the now-queen of Lucis.

He tries to shut his eyes, to ignore the utterance of every vow that grates of his nerves. Prompto knows that it’s all political bullshit, but it’s a short-lived reprieve when Gladio gently elbows in his ribs, forcing him to open his eyes and witness the entire thing, no matter how much he wishes now that he’d had to the insight to step down from his position in the days leading up to this.

This is his best friend and he must be the worst kind of bastard to have nothing but contempt for Noctis on this day, the childish part of himself wanting to renounce their friendship on the basis that Noctis was marrying the woman he knew Prompto had long fostered feelings for.

He’d known for so long that Pryna had spent years ferrying letters back and forth between, much like the journal that Umbra carried between the two of them—and that was another thought that brought yet another stroke of bitterness.

Lady Lunafreya and Noct had shared something with far more permanence than the thin sheets of paper that they’d been limited to. He remembered a time when the distance between him and his best friend hadn’t been much thicker than that paper, but these days, he couldn’t be so sure.

The announcement had created a rift between them, awkward because of Prompto’s feelings and Noct’s lack of them. He doesn’t love her, not like he does, and it’s jealousy that drives home the idea that Noct deserves her even less than he does.

And, oh, the sealing kiss that marks the progression of the ceremony has his stomach lurching. Suddenly, he doesn’t care about what people say, what the press will pick up on, what kind of rumors will circulate in the tabloids.

He can’t wait to hear them spew lies at the three of them for being part of some fucked up love triangle that works to exclude him for being a commoner.

He’s not been there long, leaning onto the railing of the balcony that overlooks the city they all called home—that Luna would be calling home now, too. What was worse was how Prompto had always known. Deep down, he’d known that the day she called this city her home, it wouldn’t be because of him, because of a pleb.

Prompto was never meant to have her.

He wasn’t meant to have her and knowing that the high heels clicking against the tiled floors belong to her brings him no amount of comfort in a moment like this, when he’s warring with his love for her and his love for his best friend.

“Shouldn’t you be with him?” Prompto asks, only sparing a moment to cast a glance at her to prove to himself that it was her. It’s gross, he knows, to stand here with a desire still to wrap her up in his arms and be the reason she wore that white dress.

But he was no Prince and never would be. Astrals knew he’d always be better suited as her guard than her husband.

“We saw you leave,” she says slowly, though he doesn’t dare turn his head to catch sight of her. He doesn’t dare do more than dream up the look on her face and hope it’s not half as sad as she sounds. “We wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Yet Noctis was nowhere in sight and it was obvious why. He’d just married the woman that had plagued Prompto’s dreams for years. No longer could he even fantasize about something he’d never be able to have without feeling like he was some kind of home-wrecking monster.

“I’ll be okay,” he says, though the future tense of his words said nothing for today. Eventually, this would be an old wound, scarred over and long-healed, but today was not that day.

Gods, how he wished today was that day.

A hand touches his back, curling dainty fingers over his shoulder and it’s against his better judgment that he reaches up to lay his hand over hers. It’s despicable how jealous he is, but only made worse by how desperate he is to have her and hold her that he’s willing to engage her in such simple intimacies.

“You don’t gotta worry about me, Your Majesty.”

It’s so small, so subtle that anyone not aware of their relationship would find little wrong with the sentence, save for his informal phrasing. But to the woman he’s no longer accustomed to his formalities, he can feel how deep it strikes her by the way her grip falters.

The guilt will eat him alive before Noct can kill him for hurting her.

“To you, Prompto, I will always be Luna,” she says, her voice soft with a sadness rare to her, yet that seemed to be the only thing he heard from her the minute she stepped foot in Insomnia. He knows this is no easier for her; he knows that she’s struggling just as much as he is. So knowing this, he chances glancing back at her.

It’s a risk, looking back at blue eyes that he’s seen so many times in pictures and so few times outside of them and he hated how beautiful she looked. He hated the feeling of wanting to tell her as much, wanting to complicate things further.

Struggling to choke back all of his ugly feelings, to reign them in before he can give in to the demand that he mourn a love he never had, he offers her a sad smile.

“I dunno if I can do that.”

Cruel is the world that has put her between two wonderful men, that has given her a love she can’t easily ignore in favor of her duty as the new Queen of Lucis. Treacherous is the heart that yearns for what’s been forbidden, for who the Astrals have locked away just out of her short reach.

Prompto pushes her away and part of her wishes he had physically done so, believes it might have hurt less if he had, that it might have been easier to bear than the ache in her chest that leaves her struggling to take her next breath.

It’s worse for him, she tells herself, trying to will her selfish emotions away because surely, she isn’t the one that deserves to be upset. It’s Prompto who’s forced to watch her marry Noctis, his best friend. It’s he who must wear a smile and pretend that staring up at the both of them isn’t tearing him apart.

But no matter how good Prompto is at hiding his feelings, Luna knows him too well to buy into such lies.

And Noctis knows better, as well.

“Hey,” Noctis greets her as she returns, but her eyes settle on the attendants of their wedding and refuse to meet Noct’s. Lunafreya Nox Fleuret is clinging desperately to the last shred of stability she has and Gods, she knows that it’ll slip from her grasp the minute she finds his gaze.

The last thing she wants is to turn this “love triangle” into a public incident and put Prompto’s face on the front of every tabloid that wants to slander his name as much as her own.

But Noctis doesn’t need her to look at him, does he? Her silence alone signifies that Prompto’s response had been far from desirable and neither of them could blame him for it. Neither of them could blame him for the suffering that lived in his eyes, thrived in his heart.

He meant too much to the both of them for that.

“He's not taking it well,” he says and she knows it's not a question nor is she a stranger to the lack of surprise in his voice.

“How could he be?”

Luna was hard-pressed to say that either of them had even the slightest notion that he would. He was entitled to every pulse of anger, every aching moment that came with a marriage no easier for them than it was for him.

“You should be with him,” Noctis finally says, pulling her attention away from the party continuing to unfold in front of them. This time, she finds his eyes and her own well up with the same tears she had feared would surface.

“But I can’t be.”

“You should go to him,” he says, as if she hadn’t breathed out a single word, as if her worries will irrelevant.

“People will talk.”

“Let them.”

It’s such a simple solution—too simple, she wants to say, because Astrals know that people can be nasty no matter the circumstances. They’ll tear into the three of them at every opportunity until they’re satisfied with the damage done.

“Go,” Noct says, but this time, it’s not a simple request. It’s a command this time, spoken like the king that he now is as her heart flutters helplessly. Can Noctis truly be pushing for this? Does he truly mean to take as many blows in the name of their love as they do? “At least you two can be happy.”

His words are jarring and her eyes go wide when she hears them. She can come only to one conclusion when she sees his blue eyes, full to the brim with the same agonizing need that she knows. No matter how deep her desire goes, Noctis’s lies so much deeper because she knows as well as he that his will never come to fruition outside of his dreams.

“You love him,” she says, eyes wide as she watches a sad smile spread across his face.

“Just go, Luna,” he repeats, this time the words less a command and more a plea that doesn’t fail to reach her ears. She’s precious little time, far fewer words and even less opportunities to put things back together as best she can.

She has to find her beloved, has to rekindle things between them both.

If not for herself, then for Prompto and the prince that could not have him.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #Prompto Argentum #lunafreya nox fleuret #promluna #allen writes.#lascivus #yay for rarepairs

6 notes · View notes

365daysofsasuhina · 6 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Fifteen: Eyes That Can’t See ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Neji ] [ SasuHina, surgery, eye trauma, car accident ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Apparently, it’s genetic. Or at least, that’s how he understands it. Three of their grandparents had it. Already their father needs glasses that warp his face they’re so strong. But according to the doctors, it’s not meant to happen this young. This fast.

They try surgery...to no avail. By the time he’s twenty-one years old, Itachi is completely blind.

Aspirations he’d had when young seem to deflate. The weeks they spend in the hospital attempting various operations and therapies only seem to further bring Itachi into a state of somber resignation.

And Sasuke hates it.

He’s always looked up to his older brother. At times he’s even found himself jealous of his looks, his smarts, and his popularity growing up. To see such a once-vibrant man lose so much vitality in the face of this kind of obstacle just...throws all of that away.

His parents continue to push toward new research, new possibilities. And more for their sake than his own, Itachi acquiesces. Sasuke can see that it only drains his brother more, but neither side takes his word for it. Mikoto and Fugaku refuse to give up, and Itachi doesn’t want to disappoint their hopes.

So, during one of the recoveries of yet another procedure, Sasuke takes to wheeling his chair-bound brother into the gardens of his recovery center. They’re hardly alone: plenty of other patients with various levels of blindness and trauma are escorted by family or caregivers. Itachi’s eyes are wrapped in gauze, shielding the sensitive flesh as it recovers from yet another invasion. “Any pain?”

“No, I’m quite all right, Sasuke. I think the fresh air will do me some good. Have our parents returned yet…?”

“Not yet. Sounds like they were still going over initial results with the doctor.” And it hadn’t sounded good. Again. “...how much longer are you gonna let them do this to you?”

“As many times as it takes, I suppose. You never know - something might work.”

“Yeah, and something might drive you even further into this funk. Don’t you want to just...put your foot down? At all?!”

“Sasuke…”

“This isn’t fair, Itachi! It’s your body!”

“I realize that. But I...greatly dislike the defeat they feel.”

“What about yours?”

A pause. “...I’ve accepted my circumstances. It greatly alters the plans I’d made. I need time to adjust and...figure out my new next move. That’s all.”

Sasuke heaves a curt breath, but doesn’t argue any further. Instead, he pulls Itachi up beside a bench in a section of the center yard. For a time they sit in the quiet, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of Spring flowers.

“...I will admit...it lets me appreciate things I missed before. I hear more. I smell more. It’s like closing your eyes and focusing on everything else.”

The younger brother doesn’t answer, just watching Itachi quietly. A soft smile curves his lips. For once, since this all started...he really does look at peace...if not still exhausted.

“Um...excuse me…?”

Thoughts interrupted, Sasuke looks up to see a girl his age accompanied by a boy slightly older. “Is...is there room for us to join you…?”

Staring for a moment at the gauze over her face, Sasuke eventually offers, “...yeah, sure.” He sidles a bit closer to his brother, watching from the corner of his eyes as she also takes a seat. Whoever’s with her carefully ensures she finds the bench, remaining standing as not to crowd her.

Beside him, Itachi offers a greeting. “We have company?”

“Oh, s-sorry...I’m Hinata,” she replies, a hand at her chest. It then searches for a moment and finds the boy’s arm. “This is my cousin, Neji.”

“Itachi. And this is my younger brother, Sasuke.”

Her lips curve in a smile. “It’s n-nice to meet you. Or...as nice as it can be here, right…?”

“Indeed.” Itachi gestures to his face. “I’ve a genetic condition that causes blindness. I’m here to recover after a surgery.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t trouble yourself - it is as it is.”

“I...I was in a car accident a few weeks ago. I had some h-head trauma that detached my retinas.”

Sasuke feels his stomach clench. “Oh, shit…”

“I, um - I just had a surgery of my own. To...to reattach them. The recovery time is rather long, so...I’m here until we can see if it worked.”

“My condolences, and also my hopes you recover quickly, Hinata.”

“Thank you...you too.”

There’s a pause as the conversation lulls. But before Itachi can open his mouth to go on, a nurse calls out his name, turning his head.

“I’m sorry, sir - Doctor would like to see you for a moment.”

“Ah, I see.” Hearing his brother move to stand, Itachi holds up a hand. “I’ll just be a moment. Please, wait here.”

“I’ll bring him right back,” the nurse promises with a smile. “He’s in good hands until then!”

Looking highly torn, Sasuke eventually settles back atop the bench, watching his brother be wheeled away.

“...so...are you in charge of your brother…?” Hinata asks.

“Sorta. He’s living with my parents and I. They both work, so...usually we have someone in the house while they’re gone, and I’m at school. But I try to do all I can for him.”

She smiles somberly. “Well...I’m sure he appreciates it. Neji’s been my eyes since the accident. I know I’d be l-lost without him. I have a younger sister, but she’s too young to really have that much responsibility. And Father is...is busy.”

The pause in her tone is a bit hinting. “...I see.”

“So, I’m not your brother, but...thank you for your diligence. It really makes all the difference. You’re making a big impact on him, believe me.”

“Thanks.”

“Hinata, how’s your pain?”

“It’s fine, Neji - thank you. I’d r-rather not go back in yet. The air’s so warm…”

“...are you sure? I could bring you some tablets.”

She hesitates. “...well...m-maybe that’s a good idea...do you mind if I stay here?”

The boys exchange a look, Sasuke shrugging at Neji’s calculating stare. “...very well. I suppose he has experience in this. Do please be mindful of her.”

“You got it.” A brow perks as Neji walks swiftly back toward the main building. “...y’know, he reminds me of my brother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all formal and polite.”

Hinata can’t help a giggle. “Yes, he’s...very careful with his manners.”

“So...he’s uptight?”

“I didn’t s-say that!”

“Kidding, kidding…” Sasuke snickers a bit to himself.

“Don’t let him hear you say that…!”

“I won’t, don’t worry.” Leaning forearms atop his knees, Sasuke looks over the grounds with a soft sigh.

“...I can smell the flowers.”

“Yeah, they’ve got quite a few. Itachi says it’s probably to help make up for a lost sense.”

“Ah, that’s probably true...I’m sad I probably will m-miss a lot of the blooming season. I love flowers.”

“I’m sure you’ll be better before they all stop blooming.”

“I hope so.”

“...so...you were, uh...in a wreck?”

“Yes...me and a few friends. Thankfully they’re all okay. I was in the front passenger seat, and...the airbag failed to deploy.” A hand carefully reaches to her brow. “I c-cracked my skull, and...the impact was so hard, it detached my retinas. Or so they tell me. I...don’t know much about medical stuff.”

“Shit, that just...ugh.”

“Yeah, it’s...pretty gruesome to think about, huh? The staples are still in, so...they k-keep my forehead covered a lot. But thankfully my brain’s okay. I had a concussion, but nothing long-term. Well...except the eyes.”

Sasuke just shakes his head. “Yeah...my brother’s isn’t trauma. We have some genetic crap in our family that causes blindness. Usually it’s not until you’re older, but...for some reason it advanced in him really fast.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“...me too. He was all lined up with a major university, already had big job offers because of how stupidly smart he is, but...a lot of that’s gone quiet after the diagnosis. Not that you can’t do at least some of all that blind, but...my parents keep dragging him through every surgery they can find trying to cure it. And he just...goes with it. Doesn’t want them to give up.”

“That’s so...sad…”

“...yeah…”

“Well...I hope he finds something new to look forward to. He sounds like a wonderful person.”

“The best of the best. Though I’m a little biased.”

Hinata smiles. “I can’t blame you in the slightest.”

Sasuke does the same, but jolts at the sound of the door. Itachi waits on the other side as the automatic mechanism slowly opens, head turned a bit to talk to the nurse behind him. Whatever he says strikes a chord to make her laugh, and his lips pull in a smile.

“Sounds like he’s on his way back…?”

“Yeah.” Standing, Sasuke listens as the nurse informs him his parents have arrived.

“Ready to head in?” Itachi asks.

The younger brother glances to Hinata. “...I’ll be there in a minute. Neji’s getting Hinata some meds. I’ll find you once he’s back so she’s not left alone.”

“Ah, I see - we’ll be back in my room. I’m sure it will be a bit before the talking starts. You shouldn’t miss anything.”

Sasuke nods, retaking his seat.

“Sorry…”

“Nah, don’t sweat it. I’m sure I know what they’ll say, anyway…”

That doesn’t stop Hinata from wilting a bit.

“Besides, it’s nice to have a new face around. I’m a bit used to all the nurses and doctors by now. Not, uh...that I’m glad you’re here cuz of why you’re here, but -”

She cuts him off with a soft laugh. “I know what you mean. And...well, I can’t see y-your face, but...I’m glad you’re here all the same.”

A comfortable silence falls before the sound of shoes in the grass comes up behind them. “I have your medication, Hinata. We’d best get you back after you take them. You know how drowsy you get.”

“Yeah, I know.” Carefully accepting the pills, Hinata takes them with a glass of water Neji brought along. “Well, I...guess that’s my cue to go. Don’t need me falling asleep on you!”

Sasuke chuckles. “Go get some rest. Maybe we’ll run into you again later.”

“...I hope so. Goodbye, Sasuke.”

“See ya.” Watching Neji carefully guide her toward another door, the Uchiha lingers for a few moments, sighing to himself.

...well...can’t avoid it forever. Rising to his feet, he heads toward the entrance and pulls open the door.

Phew, this one got long! It's actually a prompt I've been looking forward to due to the significance eyes play with both Uchiha and Hyūga. Of course, then I went and put it in modern, but...oh well xD It's supposed to play off the Mangekyō Sharingan in Itachi, and the filler of Hinata's temporary blindness (and Neji's attentiveness), just...transferred to a modern setting! This COULD be an idea I continue sometime down the line, but for now it's just the one piece alone. If another prompt fits, I'll try to come back to it! Also don't mind me easter egging with the nurse in the background ahaha ANYWAY, that's all for tonight! Thanks so much, as always, for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #uchiha itachi #hyūga hinata #hyūga neji #surgery //#eye trauma //#car accident //#best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

9 notes · View notes

vulptilla · 6 years

Photo

My actual oc page has been under construction since forever, so I promised to make some kind of an introduction post for my canon trio.

Long story short, meet my precious all-mage panel. From left to right, there is a disaster bisexual blood mage Faenel Amell, another disaster bisexual blood mage Katla Hawke & the most purest cinnamon roll Iliana Trevelyan, a former Tranquil who has done nothing wrong in her entire life. Behind the links you will find their own specific tags cluttered with art, screenshots, memes and various other stuff about them.

Katla and Iliana even have their own faux Wiki pages, commissioned from the most awesome @tk-duveraun. <3

Their “short” bios can be found under the cut.

(Oh, and now when I remember, this is probably the best time to mention that I’m also up for all kinds of rp and other oc interaction stuff, too.)

Faenel is a former Circle mage who never particularly enjoyed his life in the tower, but he didn’t hate it either, at least not enough to attempt escape. He was always interested in studying blood magic (purely academically, of course), but nevertheless he was surprised to learn that Jowan, his best friend and occasional lover, had dabbled in it. He knew he should have known better, but still agreed to help He knew he should have known better, but still agreed to help Jowan and Lily with their plan—and as we know, everything went downhill from there.

Under different circumstances he even may have not agreed with being recruited for the Grey Wardens, but in his rather hopeless situation he didn’t even consider refusing Duncan. In retrospect, getting away not only from the tower but also from the Knight-Commander’s wrath was the second best thing that had ever happened to him.

The best was meeting Morrigan. He became fascinated with her intelligence, sharp wit and overall unique way of thinking, but unfortunately he was such a selfish prick back then. When Morrigan asked him to slay Flemeth, he agreed to do it, but when Flemeth offered him a way out of it, he took it and lied Morrigan about it. He didn’t expect it would matter, not until he agreed to perform Morrigan’s ritual with her. He didn’t care anything else than surviving the upcoming battle, and he was mighty fine with knowing that Morrigan would leave afterwards.

After the battle Morrigan was indeed gone and Faenel was the celebrated Hero of Ferelden. He spent a couple of months in Denerim court as a honor guest of newly crowned King Alistair and Queen Anora. For a short period of time he truly enjoyed all those luxuries and privileges he had, but soon he realised that everything tasted like ashes. He felt empty inside and didn’t really like the person he had become during his time in the court. His past deeds and aloofness haunted him, and after carefully planning everything, he left the capital to begin his search for Morrigan. He had realised that he actually wanted to be part of his unborn child’s life.

He found Morrigan and they spent a couple of years together with the baby Kieran, until he finally told the truth about Flemeth. Morrigan wasn’t *that* angry with him (basically meaning that she didn’t murder him at the spot), acknowledging that she might have done the same, but it didn’t change the fact that Flemeth being alive was a threat to Kieran. They agreed that Faenel should leave to find her and finish the job.

His search for Flemeth lasted for years, taking him to foreign countries and uncharted lands, but it all was in vain. He patiently followed her tracks for years only to find out that she had already left way before his arrival—but he never gave up. He wanted to do this one thing right in his life.

After a few years of unsuccesful searching the Mage-Templar conflict forced him to turn back and travel to Skyhold. He didn’t expect to find his family there, and he most definitely didn’t expect to hear that Morrigan had drunk from the Well of Sorrows and thus become bound to Mythal—or in other words, Flemeth.

— — —

Katla was never part of the Circle, due to her parents’ efforts to keep her hidden from templars, but she grew to fear and loathe the Order and its’ ways nevertheless. She grew up praying every day for safe return of her father who used to take various mercenary jobs to keep his family fed.

By the time the Blight forced her family to flee Lothering she had assumed the role of the protector of her family. She blamed herself for Bethany’s death. She swore that she would not let anything bad happen to Carver. She wanted to keep him close, but she also wanted to protect him from harm, and her trying to have control over her brother’s life only drove him more apart. She didn’t take him with her to the Deep Roads expedition only to learn that he had joined the Templar Order during her absence. They fought over it, and in result Katla refused to speak to him anymore, feeling betrayed by her own brother. She later realised that she was wrong about it, but they were never able to fix their relationship during her time in Kirkwall.

She never wanted to resort to blood magic, but it simply seemed to be the only choice for a mage who wanted to survive in Kirkwall. She despised herself for it, but she saw no other way to protect her loved ones from harm.

Soon after meeting Anders she became infatuated with him. They basically made the rest of their friends mad with their constant flirting, but they both happened to have too much on their plates, thus they never took the next step in their relationship. They stayed close friends, and after a few years of loneliness Katla ended up with the templar Thrask. Their relationship was highly inconvenient and they never able to be together openly since it would have given too much leverage to Knight-Commander Meredith who was known to be preying on any opportunity to knock Katla — the Champion of Kirkwall and a fierce defender of mage rights—off her pedestal and drag her into the Gallows.

After Thrask’s unexpected death she became more desperate that she had ever been before. She had always used alcohol to cope with her past failures, but now she didn’t even want to leave her estate anymore. Anders was there for her, comforting her and keeping her from any further self-harming than she had already done to herself. They grew closer, but agreed to not bring any kind of romantic aspect into it, feeling that they would be only taking advantage on each other.

After defeating Meredith they escaped the city together and were never seen again, not until Varric contacted Katla and invited her to Skyhold.

— — —

As the eldest child of two, Iliana was raised to become the heir of her noble family, but instead she was sent to the Circle as soon as her magic manifested. It was a big surprise—and disappointment—to her parents, but they never abandoned their firstborn child. Lord Trevelyan’s money ensured that she was kept safe from harm in the Circle, and she occasionally got to meet with her family. She adjusted to her new life quite well, although she was somewhat afraid of her own powers and never enjoyed her mandatory spellcasting lessons as much as she did enjoy studying magical theory in solitude in the quiet library. She was particularly interested in spirits and the Fade.

She was in her teens when she began to have terrifying nightmares. She told her mentor about her nighttime struggles and the mentor—who was genuinely concerned of her wellbeing but also a firm believer of traditional ways—suggested that she should undergo the Rite of Tranquility. She was afraid of her upcoming Harrowing and ended up agreeing with her mentor.

When the Mage-Templar conflict broke out, most of the Tranquil mages were left to the wolves, but Iliana’s mentor took care of her. They both attended the Conclave, and in result Iliana was cured of her Tranquility by being touched of the Spirit of Justinia. She was brought to Haven to be questioned. No one seemed to care of her highly unstable state of mind, not until she met with Cole, who was the first to truly understand and be able to help her with her struggles.

After some time she realised that she realised that she had fallen in love with Josephine. Her advisor was always gentle and kind and never aggressive or coarse. She felt comfortable in Josephine’s company, which couldn’t have been said of her other advisors. Cullen’s background made her extremely uncomforable, and she also found Leliana intimidating (until she found out their shared fascination with nugs).

As the Inquisitor Iliana did her best to restore peace and help her fellow mages whenever she could. After learning the truth about the Rite of Tranquility and the Seekers of Truth, she became devoted to fight for Tranquil rights.

Iliana ended up preserving the Inquisition as a peacekeeping organization under Divine Victoria (namely, Leliana).

#dragon age #the oc introduction post #my oc: faenel amell #my oc: katla hawke #my oc: iliana trevelyan

31 notes · View notes

that-curly-haired-lesbian · 7 years

Note

Could you do a queer analysis of Getaway Car? I'm curious about your opinion. For me it's the most difficult to interpret from reputation. Some think it's swiftgron, other that it's about CH/TS. I think it's about bearding in general. The 1st part about CH/TS "worst of crimes" = the longest beard. But then it sounds like 2014 kaylor (not bearding) and kissgate "It was the great escape, the prison break The light of freedom on my face But you weren’t thinkin’ And I was just drinkin'" Thank you!

Hi everyone and happySunday!

Out of all the songson Reputation Getaway Car is one ofthe most popular, but as anon says it seems to be the one we as a fandom havethe most difficulty agreeing on what or who it’s actually about.

Some are thinking Dianna andSwiftgron, while others, like anon here are thinking bearding (andoften specifically CH or TH)

Personally I tend tofall into the Swiftgron camp, I think the song is about the ending of Taylorand Dianna’s relationship and how close they came to actually picking eachother over their careers (aka escaping the industry, with its systematichomophobia and bearding practices.) Here’s a Swiftgron master post for ahelpful timeline that brings up/explains stuff about the relationship I maymention in the analysis below.

Since it is one ofthe most complex and narratively interesting songs on the newest album it hasbeen heavily analyzed already (the analyses linked above are both excellent andprovided a lot of inspiration for this analysis) but I decided to put it on mylist anyway. I hope I can give you a satisfying and while perhaps not all thatrefreshing, at the very least interesting take on the lyrics.

Before we actuallystart looking at them I’d like to share some of my general thoughts on the song.

We all know Taylor isa brilliant singer and a wonderful songwriter, but what first drew me, a loverof stories to her music was the fact that first and foremost Taylor is astoryteller. From start to finish GetawayCar is a story and a complex one in ways that we’ll get into as thisanalysis progresses.

Taylor has picked (apossibly crime-fueled) road trip sort of theme (no, not THAT road trip) for thestory she wants to tell.

On the surface thesong chronicles the fate of two lovers on some sort of crime spree, or at leaston a road trip escaping their everyday lives in order to be together far awayfrom it all…Sounds familiar as far as lesbian fiction goes, wouldn’t you say?Someone knows their queer pop culture, nice one, Tay!

Unlike the semi-happyending of Carol or the sad andupsetting one of lesbian Bonnie and Clyde(or you know, straight Bonnie and Clyde too, actually) though, it doesn’tend with one of them dying.

Instead it all endswith one of them betraying the other and escaping with their stolen goodsleaving their partner to take the fall and presumably be arrested.

It is fairly easy toconclude that this plot is not to be taken as autobiographical, obviouslyTaylor didn’t rob a bank with a past lover, but she might’ve done somethingthat betrayed said lover’s trust and when writing a song about the incident sheused this escaping-the-law-thing as a metaphor for what actually happened inher own relationship. I think you’re all with me so far, but how do we connectthe story being told here to Swiftgron? Well, let’s look at it and see.

Oh, but also, beforeI forget, my usual disclaimers:

This is just mespeculating, I could be extremely wrong and everyone is free to speculate asmuch as they want on what this lyrical masterpiece is about.

Lyrics cred goes toAZLyrics yet again.

Now let’s start theactual analysis!

–

No, nothing good starts in a getaway car…

–

It’s been reported that Dianna actually proposed toTaylor as a sort of last, desperate attempt to save their relationship. After gettingback together yet again and enduring months and months of back and forth Diannasupposedly threw the idea of marriage out there and Taylor, forced to berealistic about her career and her life in general had to say no, thus endingthe relationship. I assume though, that Taylor didn’t say no immediately, atfirst she considered what would happen if she said yes.

Well, for starters it’d be the end of all the bearding,she could escape that part of her life if she actually came out, but it alsomost likely meant that she’d have to give up her career (at least mainstream,big-time success…cuz ew, homophobia.)

She considered it however, for a moment she consideredgetting into that getaway car Dianna was providing and just drive away from itall, all the fame and the fake PR games (LuckyOne vibes, anyone?) in order to be with her girlfriend, but then sheactually truly started thinking about it and realized that for this to workthey’d have to pull off something akin to a freaking heist.

Their coming out process would be complicated andwould most likely hurt both of their images considerably + both of theirmanagements at the time seems to have been pretty pro-closet, so coming outwould be challenge and a risky one at that.

If they’d actually be able to pull that off their marriage(and by association the rest of their lives together) would start in the dustof their public come out and all the drama that’d come with that.

Taylor fearedtheir (already rocky) relationship wasn’t strong enough to survive the public’sreaction to them coming out and getting married. In addition to that theirmarriage would’ve been born out of frustration, they’d both just about had itwith the closeting process and the PR games in their respective industries and+ they wanted to save their relationship which was rapidly falling apart,perhaps not only due to both of thembeing forcibly closeted, but I’m sure that didn’t…you know, help.

A marriage built from a combination of thosecircumstances doesn’t strike me as one that will last and Taylor seems to havecome to the same conclusion. (A reoccurring theme in her songs for Dianna is agut feeling or a knowledge that no matter how much they want to, they won’tlast forever) so she decides that they shouldn’t get married, shouldn’t try toescape their miserable, straight-passing PR lives this way because the marriagethat would come from that wouldn’t be a strong and enduring one.

After all nothing good starts in a getaway car, orfrom a need escape something (bearding) while holding onto something else (afailing relationship) that very clearly won’t last.

Criminals trying to escape the law will get caughtsooner or later and two closeted women won’t be able to be together without PRdrama if they don’t come out. In both cases it is pointless to try and escapethe inevitable (capture by police, or putting the crime metaphor aside,eventual outing) and if they do manage to put these things off it’s onlytemporary and not the foundation for something lasting or good.

–

It was the best of times, the worst of crimes

–

Generally Taylor seemed quite happy in herrelationship with Dianna, but their relationship was also torrid and prettydramatic and in Wonderland shedescribes it as “Never worse, but neverbetter” and what’s happening here seems to be similar. Taylor is happy andin love, having the best time, but just being happy and in love with another woman is basicallyconsidered a crime in her line of work. Homosexuality is insanely taboo in theentertainment industry, as a celebrity it seems to be just about the worstthing you can do (unless you’re already out at the start of your career andthus marketed as a gaysinger/actor/performer.)

So while Taylor was happy and in love she was alsoaware that the general public would judge her harshly if they found out she’sgay, in their eyes that’d be a betrayal of trust since she’d “lied” to themabout being straight, she might as well have murdered a man (aka committed acrime) as far as the hets are concerned.

Also as we knowin many parts of the world being gay IS in fact a literal crime, it’s evenconsidered so bad you could get death penalty for it in multiple countries.While that’s (thankfully) not the case in the U.S “the worst of crimes” seems afitting way to describe that atrocity that’s a reality for many LGBT+ peopleelsewhere. I hate this world with a burning passion!

…Okaaaaay,let’s not talk about that anymore… 🤮🤮🤮

–

I struck a match and blew your mind

But I didn’t mean it

And you didn’t see it

–

Matches are a recurring motif in many Taylor songs (atthe top of my head I can think of PictureTo Burn and Dear John) and mostoften they seem to signify ending a relationship or getting over someone.

Here they seem to allude to Taylor trying and failingto convince a proposing Dianna (and herself) that she couldn’t say yes and thatthey’d have to break up.

Dianna had been so desperate to save theirrelationship and so convinced Taylor felt the same desperation and thereforewould say yes that she wasn’t ready to get any other answer. When Taylorstarted explaining why saying yes wasn’t realistic (or “struck the match” aka essentially broke up) it blew Dianna’s mind,it wasn’t at all the response she’d expected as she’d convinced herself thatgetting married was the logical next step since they didn’t want to lose eachother.

Taylor wanted to be able to say yes, she wanted tobelieve their dysfunctional relationship could still be saved. So when sheresponded to the proposal she didn’t want to believe what she heard herself say,it’s not what she wanted to say (“I didn’t mean it”) and Dianna refusedto admit Tay was right. (“You didn’t seeit” “it” being the truth of their doomed love.) They were both clinging to an already lost hope, much like twodelusional criminals thinking they will be able to escape police forever.

–

The ties were black, the lies were white

In shades of gray and candlelight

–

Black ties makes one think of formal events orcorporate business dealings, kind of like how Taylor’s hetero relationships arenothing but business and how they tellwhite little lies in order to sell the hetero story like the business deal itis. (“they” in this context being Team Taylor, but also Dianna’s team sincethey seem to employ much of the same techniques to keep the girls closeted, orat least they did before Taylor got rid of her old publicist and hired Tree.)

The mentions of black and white also makes me think ofhow all Taylor’s bearding relationships seem almost painfully simplistic, theyare either in love or they aren’t, it’s all the tired fairy-tale view of lovewith the prince and princess (code word for “straight woman” in much of Taylor’smusic, remember?) It’s all very black and white, much like black ties and whitelies. This PR-version of love is put in opposition to Taylor’s actual (gay)love life where everything is more complicated and realistic. For example twopeople who still love each other might have to break up, because their lovesimply isn’t enough to keep them together anymore. In other words, in this realversion of Taylor Swift’s love life everything doesn’t always work out so Disney-like, it’s often more complicated(and less straight) than the black and white narrative of her public lovelife. (“Shades of grey”) but stillromantic most of the time (“candle light.”)

“Shades of grey” could of course also be a referenceto the Fifty Shades Of Grey series ofbooks/movies, a primary example of something that a vast majority of peopleseem to consider romantic when it actually is quite abusive and gross (x)rather like the structures keeping someone in a straight PR-relationship thatfronts a false sense of perfect and desirable romance while the reality of thatrelationship is something else entirely. 🤔

Yes, I do know Taylor wrote a song for one of the 50 Shades movies so maybe she likes themand does consider them romantic (or it was just an attempt to make her publicpersona edgier in preparation for Reputationand the “death of the old Taylor”) but as a self-proclaimed feminist (and avery smart woman) I have a hard time believing the abusive, patriarchal andheteronormative implications of those books/films got past Taylor.

In my opinion she might’ve drawn a pretty cleverparallel between the romanticized but clearly problematic relationship depictedin Fifty Shades and the romanticizing of her own publicrelationships that are as shallow and void of any deeper substance as thewriting and story in those novels. This is very clearly a reach and I don’t pretend toknow anything of Taylor’s taste in literature, but I thought it was kind offunny to be honest. 😂

–

Iwanted to leave him

I needed a reason

–

Who is this “him”? Well, it could either be her beard(most likely Harry Styles if this was back in the Swiftgron days) or thebearding/entertainment industry as a whole. It seems that by the time she metDianna Taylor was tired of hiding and bearding and by now it seems she mostcertainly is. In previous analyses we’ve touched on the idea that many gaycelebrities are forced to choose between a fulfilling personal life and asuccessful career and this song isn’t the first time Taylor’s flirted with theidea of picking the former. (Lucky One)However, at that point in her career she felt she couldn’t just up and leavewithout giving her fans and explanation and coming out and getting married to awoman seemed reason enough. She wants out of the bearding system, so thereforeit’s tempting to say yes to the proposal even though she knows it most likelywon’t work out.

–

X marks the spot, where we fell apart

–

This is probably just a reference to one of Taylor’sfavorite songs by Hilary Duff, BreatheIn, Breathe out (x) but it could alsobe a reference to bearding being what made Swiftgron fall apart.

Often in bearding and PR relationship contracts areinvolved (See: Blank Space) and mostoften legal documents such as contracts are signed with a person’s signature,but sometimes they are signed with simple x’s.Admittedly that’s most often when a party is unable to provide their written signaturefor one reason or another, but this may be the safest way to hint atcontract-signing in the song without flat-out saying it. With this in mind Taylorcould be saying that putting an x on(or signing) all of those contracts and agreeing to “play straight” as much asboth women were doing put a strain on their relationship and led to its demise.

–

He poisoned the well, I was lying to myself

–

To “poison the well” means to discredit someone’sargument or point. Once again “he” makes an appearance and like I said I think“he” represents the bearding practice as a whole, or possibly the girls’publicists or PR teams. Their previous history with bearding andstraight-passing had poisoned the well in the sense that they’d make coming outa challenge. Everyone assumes both girls to be straight so were they tosuddenly claim to be gay everyone would try to disprove this with references totheir previous history with dating and they’d have no way to dismiss thiswithout admitting to bearding which would frankly probably be a PR disaster.Taylor’s saying that if she tried to convince herself that they could getmarried and then come out without major complications she was lying to herself,she wouldn’t be able to leave “him” as easily as Dianna was trying to convinceher and deep down Taylor knew this even if she didn’t want to believe it.Simply put, Taylor was lying to herself by thinking coming out would bepossible, let alone easy.

–

I knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed

–

So, an old fashioned is a kind of drink and maybe thatdrink holds a special meaning in relation to Taylor and Dianna’s relationship?Obviously I wouldn’t know, instead I’m thinking that it might be yet anotherreference to bearding.

After all that’s pretty much a tale as old as time,it’s been going on in Hollywood since day one, quite old fashioned if you askme. Perhaps Taylor is saying she knew as soon as she started bearding that herreal relationships would be hard to make work while pretending to be hetero. Iimagine her and Dianna’s relationship were no different given that both womenare quite famous for bearding.

This could’ve been a factor in Taylor’s aforementionedgut feeling that they wouldn’t last, if we’re to trust I Knew You Were Trouble she had that feeling of eventual doom even inthe early days of their relationship and the fact that they both bearded a lotmight have been a contributing factor to this.

–

We never had a shotgun shot in the dark

–

This is clearly a reference to the wedding they neverhad. A “shotgun wedding” is a hasty and rushed one. A wedding that’s takingplace as a last effort to save a failing relationship through one lastdesperate, but still grand, romantic gesture seems pretty rushed and hasty tome, rather like the wedding Swiftgron would’ve had if Taylor had agreed to theproposal. *heartbreak*

–

You were driving the getaway car

We were flying, but we’d never get far

–

Through proposing Dianna provided a escape frombearding for both herself and Taylor, a getaway car if you will. Whileconsidering this possible plan of escape both girls could taste the freedomthey’d been denied for so long by being forced to stay in the closet. They werehappy and excited (“flying”) that they’dfound a way to both save their relationship AND get out of tedious glass closetroutines, but pretty soon they (or at least Taylor) realized the plan wouldn’twork, their getaway car (or marriage) wouldn’t get far.

–

Don’t pretend it’s such a mystery

Think about the place where you first met me

–

Dianna shouldn’t be shocked Taylor isn’t ready to comeout the singer reasons, after all they first met while they were both deeply inthe closet. I mean this line might hold a more obvious significance to Taylorand Dianna as they alone know the details of their meet-cute, but all I canthink about is that the place they first met technically was the closet.Neither of them should be surprised (or “act like it’s such a mystery”) thatthe other won’t come out, after all they knew what they were getting themselvesinto when they first met as they were aware the other was very closeted.

–

We’re riding in a getaway car

There were sirens in the beat of your heart

–

If we’re going with the story of the outlaws on therun the sirens are quite obviously the police chasing them, the cops are closingin on them, threatening to end their little crime-spree fantasy. In the contextof the song’s queer meaning however it might mean something entirely different.In Greek mythology a siren is a sea creature, a beautiful woman who luressailors to their deaths in the ocean by seducing the men with their beauty. Sothe sirens beauty and grace tricked the men into doing something unwise ordangerous, huh? Sounds like a beautiful woman luring Taylor Swift away from hercareer with promises of happily ever after and beautiful words she wants tohear…Of course Taylor couldn’t be like “you’re a siren, luring me into yourgetaway car” so she had to use the Bonnie and Clyde narrative so that we’dthink about a police siren, not like, a freaking mermaid seducing our singerinto their getaway vehicle. 😂

–

Should’ve known I’d be the first to leave

Think about the place where you first met me

In a getaway car

No, they never get far

No, nothing good starts in a getaway car

–

Yet again Taylor’s saying Dianna shouldn’t besurprised Taylor won’t come out and at the first sign of breaking the glasscloset Taylor would leave. Why? Well,before I suggested the getaway car might be a metaphor for Swiftgron’spotential marriage and how it “wouldn’t get far” the use of that metaphor herethough suggests to me that the getaway car is in fact their entirerelationship. They got into this relationship because they wanted to live theirtruths, at least privately, they wanted to have someone to come home to whenthe bearding was over for the day, they wanted true love, not just thefabricated bearding kind. Their relationship was a way to escape from theirhetero narrative, a getaway car. Keeping a relationship working while havingfake relationship with third-parties must be hard though and that’s why gayrelationships seldom work out for closeted celebs (at least in Taylor’sexperience it would seem) the attempt to escape their straight narratives neverget far. Furthermore having to live and love in secrecy doesn’t give therelationship a stable foundation, nothing good starts with an attempt to fleefrom something else.

Wow, Getaway Caris quite the bleak look at the price of fame for someone in the closet,isn’t it? 💔

–

It was the great escape, the prison break

The light of freedom on my face

But you weren’t thinking

And I was just drinking

–

Their marriage was supposed to be the great escape,their chance to break out of the prison that bearding, straight-passing andpublicity had kept them in for so long. Damn, in even considering the mere possibilityof saying yes to such a ludicrous plan Taylor could see the light of thefreedom she hadn’t had in so many years, she could see the life outside of thecloset. Then she’s forced to admit Dianna is not looking at their situationrealistically (she’s “not thinking”.)

While the next line seems to suggest Taylor has somesort of drinking problem I think what it’s really saying is that she’s actingas if she was drunk. For a second while considering saying yes to Dianna’sproposal Taylor isn’t thinking logically, instead she wants to believe in theidea that love conquers everything and that they’ll be able to work out thedetails of their coming out as they go along. This isn’t realistic either andshe’s acting like someone who’s drunk by not caring about the fact that heractions will have consequences.

Another interesting interpretation is to consider thepreviously mentioned old fashioned, like I said before it’s a kind of drink sowe can assume that maybe that’s what Taylor’s drinking here. If we go with whatwe concluded before though the old fashioned isn’t a drink here at all, but thevery practice of bearding, so can we then assume Taylor “drinking” symbolizes herbearding?

Maybe. As Dianna was increasingly losing her grip on realitywhen it came to her relationship with Taylor (by starting to actually think adrama-free come out to be possible) the latter went through a quite intensestunting period to try and combat increasing gay rumors. (Most likely on ordersfrom the spiraling pre-Tree Team Taylor.)

In other words Taylor and Dianna were on completely opposite sides of the comingout process and thus the freedom they were dreaming about just wasn’t realisticat that point which is what caused the relationship to end.

–

Well he was running after us, I was screaming ‘Go gogo!’

But with three of us, honey, it’s a side show

And a circus ain’t a love story

And now we’re both sorry (we’re both sorry)

–

As the girls try to escape the closet their historywith bearding haunts them and they both soon realize it’s impossible to deletetheir collective bearding history from the public consciousness. If they comeout as gay their male exes are gonna be questioned about their sexuality,Taylor and Dianna coming out in the way the want to will unravel so much withinthe industry that it’s frankly not possible. They can’t outrun their pastbearding no matter how fast they go.

Even if they do get married or continue theirrelationship they will have to keep bearding as they can’t come out publicly. Therewill never be just the two of them in the relationship, it will all always be aPR circus and that isn’t a worthy love story.

They both realize this is the truth of the matter andas sorry as they both are (note theoverlapping female vocals on that line) the relationship will simply have toend.

–

X marks the spot, where we fell apart

He poisoned the well, every man for himself

I knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed

It hit you like a shotgun shot to the heart.

–

Two lines are new here and therefore they are primarilythe interesting ones.

He poisoned the well, every manfor himself

Taylor has realized she’ll have to be the one to leaveas Dianna is still in denial about the fact that they can’t come out. Taylorknows they won’t be able to escape their “straight” past, any claim they canmake regarding their own sexuality has been ruined by past associations withmen, she knows she’ll have to leave Dianna to realize this on her own (“everyman for himself”) as trying to talk to her only leads back to neither wantingthe relationship to be over and thus concocting unrealistic dreams on how theycould make it work against all odds.

It hit you like a shotgun shot tothe heart.

When the truth finally hit Dianna Taylor had alreadyleft and her ex was alone to deal with the pain of the realization that gettingout from the bearding shadow is going to be harder than she wanted to think. Thisundoubtedly felt like a shot to the heart for both Taylor upon having to leaveand Dianna upon finally realizing exactly whyTaylor left.

–

(Chorus)

–

We were jet set Bonnie and Clyde

Until I switched to the other side

It’s no surprise, I turned you in

‘Cause us traitors never win

–

The duo who seem to have inspired the song areactually mentioned by name, quite a long shot from Romeo and Juliet, wouldn’t yousay?

Anyway, Taylor’s saying that her and Dianna were ateam until Taylor decided to pick her career over her girlfriend, this shouldbe unsurprising she muses, as she has (presumably) done so at least oncebefore.

Taylor callsherself a traitor here, interesting.

I recentlywatched HBO’s The Handmaid’s Tale wheregay women are referred to as “gender traitors” this also happens in the book (oneof my favorites) from 1985 by Margaret Atwood on which that show is based. Inaddition to that the term comes up as referring to people (most often women)who act in a way that is atypical or “unbeneficial” to their gender (aka feministsand lesbians) in my course lit for my gender and sexuality in literaturecourse.

I don’t think that’s what Taylor is saying here (unless she likes thatbook too *fingers crossed*) I just thought that was an interesting sidenote asthe “never win” line following that could thus be interpreted as a reference tohow minorities (lesbians for example) are often screwed over by society and “never win”.

What she says I think is that people who pick theircareer over their love life won’t end up being happy, or “winning” at life inthe long-run.

–

I’m in a getaway car

I left you in the motel bar

I put the money in a bag and stole the keys

That was the last time you ever saw me

–

By using imagery that invoke the outlaws storylineTaylor is acknowledging her own betrayal she’s saying “sorry, but you should’veguessed this is what I’m like” she wouldn’t risk her career and they both should’verealized sooner.

–

(Chorus)

–

I was riding in a getaway car

I was crying in a getaway car

I was dying in a getaway car

Said 'goodbye’ in a getaway car

–

Taylor may have fronted with “you should’ve seen thiscoming, Di” but really she was upset with herself, she didn’t wanna do this,but she saw no other way out. She was afraid of losing everything she’s workedfor by coming out so instead she took the safe route and broke the relationshipoff. 💔💔

–

Hope you all enjoyed thatread and feel free to tell me what you think the song is saying, it’s solyrically complex and interesting 😊

If you guys want meto anlyze more Taylor songs or if you have any questions for me, feel free toshoot me an ask 😊

The next song on thelist is Enchanted 🌈🌈🌈

#gaylor swift #swiftgron #kaylor #songs #queer analysis #asks

332 notes · View notes