#I think I just wasn’t at the maturity level to understand what was happening

[frobisher-smythe]

when I started this blog I was such a joy anti god pls don’t look through my old posts I was misguided I have sympathy for her now

[lubrumalis]

ghost character analysis

tw: spoilers from ghost mw2 comics, nsfw, dead dove do not eat, mature content.

this is pretty much a part 2 to ghost headcanons except with more lore and analysis (im still not sure if reboot ghost has the same backstory as the og ghost).

ghost is not a cold, calculated, ruthless man. maybe in a separate au or something, but theres a huge difference between ghost and simon riley. in fact, we need to understand that the reason he even chose ghost as a new name for himself is because of all that's happened to him. his family got killed, he got tortured by roba, and had to eliminate many men on his own. before that he was simon, not ghost. in the comic he literally calls the child hostages he was saving ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’. hes not that mean and cold yall

we know that PTSD does shit to it's victims, ghost lost his entire family and had no one. think of it as a coping mechanism to have a new name to be known as.

ghost is a ruthless killer. simon is just some guy.

ghost sets himself to an incredibly high standard of discipline. i think it's intuitive that military boys will need to be punctual and organized to some degree, but ghost takes this to a whole other level. considering his father's abusive behavior (explained by his disturbing statements said to simon, is a drug addict, and beats simons mom) his home life was likely chaotic as a child.

in the mw2: ghost comic (issue #3) it specifically stated the following: "discipline, precision, control. these are what riley built his whole life on. break those down and the dark stuff begins to ooze out..." again, this is probably a form of trauma response to his childhood.

so what does this lead to? well firstly, this probably means his room is incredibly tidy and organized (monotone design i know :,c).

would never in his life touch drugs. this is a promise he made to himself.

also kinda proves that ghost aint a reckless guy. he thinks things through before doing it.

ghost isn’t that hypersexual. theres no way of knowing his history with women, but i like to think ghost is not that horny 24/7 and needs a fuckbuddy. in the mw2 comic, he was on a mission and was in an area full of prostitutes (wasn’t actively on duty, but on his way) when they tried to hit on him he politely rejects one of them, and later tells them to fuck off😀 so yea contrary to popular belief i dont think he really enjoys one night stands or the idea of being entertained by random women. in fact, i hc he might actually be a virgin or just have a really low body count.

ghost is a feminist!😁 (misandrist too). ok let me reword that, ghost doesnt like men and respects women. one of the reasons why he doesn’t want to be around prostitutes and do one night stands (his father killed a hooker in front of him, very traumatic) is because he thinks the concept of quick, casual sex is not good for society and dilutes the value of meaningful relationships. but also, remember the discipline, precision, control thing? its apart of his principle. but also, in the comic, sparks (soldier he worked with) knocked out and attempted to rape a woman, ghosts literally looked disgusted and called the police (also why he’d never do that himself, i dont get the hcs that say he does). ghosts seen how his dad treated his mom and absolutely hates abusers. anyways onto misandry—i think ghost internally thinks men are violent and disgusting (ghosts would choose the bear over the man, even though hes a man) mainly because throughout his military career majority of the bad stuff hes seen was done by men, so hes much more relaxed in a room of women vs man. ghost thinks his dad is the epitome of pure evil (canon! he said this to his therapist). this doesn’t mean hes scared or hates all men tho!

ghost isn’t close with tf141… including soap. now before you attack me let me explain. sure, he trusts them to some degree, but i dont think they naturally just hangout when they’re not deployed. in the end we need to understand they are SAS soldiers, they are working a real job that mainly consists of them shooting and dismantling others. considering ghosts betrayal in the past (in the comic, a few soldiers ghost previously worked with killed his entire family 😢) he isn’t gonna just trust his teammates because theyre his teammates. im also pretty sure they all live in different cities while not deployed. tf141 probably all want to separate their job from their personal lives, which includes each other. but onto soap, i dont think him and ghost have a deep brotherly relationship. but i think they care about each other, but exchanging some dad jokes and bantering doesn’t mean they’re suddenly soulmates or brothers. think about it… you and you’re co worker joke around sometimes, never hangout outside of work, and now people are shipping you and calling the two of you besties. makes no sense.

ghost is extremely patriotic. in the comic (i reference this way too much but theres SOOO MUCH LORE i recommend reading it) ghost tells his teammates the reason for joining the military: queen and country, right after 9/11. he also said “the world has changed”. interestingly enough army enlistment did actually skyrocketed after 9/11 attacks, ghost was among them. he probably thought ww3 was about to happen, or that ‘theres no more peace’ or whatever. i hc being obsessed with soccer too lmao and getting mad if english teams dont win. also his playful banter with johnny “get us a tea?”. probably very proud of his british heritage.

ghost doesn’t have much friends. hes a really, reallyyyyy lonely guy. i hc him as an introvert in the first place, but trust issues make this worse. in the comic, he was literally in the newspaper for killing his family and then killing himself (he didnt, he was framed that way tho) so its likely most of his formers friends probably think hes dead. ghost likely got some sort of amnesty or exemption from the military after knowing he didn’t actually kill his family, but whats in the news stays true to the public. even if he does have friends he probably doesn’t share feelings with them or form a long term bond.

ghost is extremely cynical. this is obvious tbh, but i think ghost believes hes going to die in the middle of a battlefield, shot or stabbed, a painful death, body left to rot for weeks, and no one to remember him. just like that. and he accepts that fact too.

ghost isn’t a picky eater. growing up in an abusive household where his parents couldn’t hold a stable job, he had to eat what there was. some days he settles for cheap beans and toast and when people call him out for it, he tells em to fuck off😀

ghost is emotionally fucked up, probably kind of depressed. i mean this guys been through hell: got sa’d, buried alive, had to dig through underground dirt and worms with a jawbone, tortured in horrible ways, had his entire family killed, abusive dad, and the weight of his grey morales because he killed lots of people as a soldier. wow! would you look at that list, itd be more strange if he wasn’t emotionally fucked up after was has happened😅. even when tortured, seeing his family dead, ghost was never shown to have cried in the comic. i hc hes emotionally numb. however, i do think hes emotionally MATURE and able to communicate his emotions, but hes still emotionally fucked. for example a scene where he was talking about his experience with roba (guy who tortured ghost) and ghosts father to a therapist. i think ghosts may be traumatized, but this doesn’t stop him from attempting to get help and communicating how he feels and thinks about this world.

ghost wears a mask... not because hes insecure and traumatized it's to separate ghost from simon riley. first of all he learned the consequences of revealing your identity during deployment, in the comic, he reveals his face in missions before his family got killed. i think he wears a mask because 1) its practical, no one knows who he is, 2) an analogy for himself to remind him simon riley, his original identity, was dead the moment his family was murdered, this SAS soldier with a skull mask is GHOST (yes this is canon, ghost references in the comic!).

in issue #1 while some kids were being held hostage, he starts telling his life story to them to calm them down/distract them from the bad situation. this is his explanation to why he wears a skull mask, word by word: "I bet you're wondering why I wear these bones on my face. It's a tribute to an old friend of mine. He's dead now, but man if he wasn't the baddest motherfucker on the planet."

in issue #6, when ghost was trekking through a jungle in the middle of nowhere attempting to kill roba (a drug lord that started this all, brainwashed soldiers to kill ghosts family), he was never caught. ghost himself, the narrator, says that "even for a single man to get through the jungle, the patrols, the wall, the security... well that man would have to be a ghost."

however, im still a little confused whether or not reboot ghost and 2009 have the same backstories. reboot ghosts mask is more realistic and his look is much more intimidating, his reason for wearing that kind of mask is probably psychological warfare (getting milena the financier to speak up about makarov). i think 2009 ghosts reason to wearing a mask is more personal compared to reboot.

BUT WHAT ABOUT AN S/O???

i think ghost is the guy to not have one in the first place. obviously. but i lowkey think if he had one and really liked them, he would commit. in fact i find it hard to imagine hes a player or isn’t serious about relationships. when his brother tommy got addicted to drugs and fucked up his life, simon quit the military until tommy got 100% better and married. yup. he stayed to help him recover, for years. thats how loving and committed this man is🥹🥹.

ghost would not cheat on his s/o. i can't stress how important this hc is, because it's so out of character for him to do so. sure, guys in the military statistically have higher divorce rates, incidences of infidelity, and much more red flag stuff, but knowing what happened to him, he would never do that. doesn't matter how stressed, lonely, sexually frustrated this man is; he would not cheat on his partner. this guy has been through far more stressful situations and got through it, you think hes gonna cheat because hes stressed because of work?

its not sunshine and rainbows or absolute toxicity being with him. it's not really a mix of both either. ghost isn't that princess treatment, super squishy and cuddly, sweet guy who likes fluffy stuff. he definitely isn't the toxic guy who leaves you with mixed signals either.

hes quite the gentleman when it comes to approaching relationships, hes seen how his dad treated his mom, and ghost wants to do the exact opposite. i believe ghost likes to use the traditional courting methods when dating someone: gifting flowers, paying for dates, holding the door open (ladies first typa guy!!), the old fashioned stuff. idk if i should point it out again but this guy DOES NOT FW modern dating practices, he wouldn't download dating apps, or start 'talking stages'. i dont think he would write love letters just because hes not very good at writing poetry or expressing his feelings in the first place.

theres still downsides to being with him. the long distance, the time being apart (months and months). but i dont think he'd go as far as being emotionally avoidant.

also something really random ive noticed is that 2009 and reboot ghost are very different, personality wise. i like to think that 2009 ghost represents simon riley much better, but the reboot ghost actually gives the essence and character of what a 'ghost' in the military is.

more random headcanons:

simon prefers dogs over cats because dogs are loyal and stay with you until the end (stereotypically)

hates snakes and spiders

probably wouldn’t do 50/50 on dates, he pays!

avoids saying manchester slang when deployed

drinks and smokes. not always. he’s disciplined but he still does that stuff.. hes a british guy in his 30s whos kinda depressed, grew up with adults around him smoking 24/7, whatd you think😀😀 (its canon that most of tf141 smoke anyway)

listens to 80’s rock music. its canon that his mom enjoys the band siouxsie and the banshees :)), he probs does too

shaves his beard

is actually confident hes not bad looking. dude, hes 6’2, in shape with a jawline🙄

i don't enjoy hcs of ghost being the scariest out of tf141 (appearance wise yes). but soap seems much more scary imo, he was the youngest guy to pass SAS selections in the history of the UK military, and was nicknamed soap because of fast and good he is at cleaning up 'messes' (basically killing people).

id arguably say ghost is the most compassionate out of 141, if we're talking about the OG 2009 one.

[jaehaeryshater]

“You’ll have others”, he said. “Sweet babes, and trueborn.” Lysa had miscarried five times, twice in the Eyrie, thrice at King’s Landing.

Lysa and Jon Arryn, 284 AC, art by @sofikiii

“Her Lord Husband had told her it wasn’t her fault, that the baby didn’t make it. It was the first time Lysa had heard that, that something that happened wasn’t her fault.”

This, of course, is not a real life out of A Song of Ice and Fire, but the general sentiment got stuck in my head about a month and a half ago. After Hoster forced a miscarriage upon Lysa, I doubt that she had heard any words of comfort like that and that wrecks me. I couldn’t get it out of my mind, so I asked my good friend Sofia who I have worked with before if I could please commission this from her.

Lysa, for starters, is not the most morally upright character in A Song of Ice and Fire. Whether or not she realized it at the time, she did have two non consensual encounters at a young age with Petyr Baelish, she ends up killing her husband and aiding to the mental stunting of her young son, and she is very volatile and cruel with Sansa. She’s obviously not in her right mind, although that is not an excuse for all those actions, but there is an interesting story to tell as to why she’s not in her right mind, what led her to her current state of mind when we meet her. The most surface level answer to this (although of course this does not explain her action towards Petyr prior to this) is that her father Hoster Tully forced her to have an abortion because she got pregnant by Petyr Baelish, and then married her off to Jon Arryn, who was 20 years older than him, essentially old enough to be her grandfather. She was around 14 years old at this time. We learn from the text that she is consistently pregnant over the next 14 years and of her children, only Robert survived. With this art, depicting her first stillbirth, I hoped to show a moment in time leading up to her mental decline. My goal is not to justify the things she did because she suffered, but to show a moment in which she is a victim as part of a broader statement of how woman and, quite frankly, girls are treated in Westeros. I also did not want to romanticize her and Jon’s relationship, but given what we know about him, he probably comforted her and that must have been hard for her to internalize and healthily understand because he’s a person that is victimizing her, is older than her father, but she has to cling to in a way, both as a husband and potentially for this love that she is not currently getting from her family. She’s a very young girl in this and that was something else that I wanted to make sure to implement, that she has just gone through a pregnancy so is looking more mature, but she still has baby fat and a lot of childlike elements to it because in a modern sense, she’s still a kid. A kid that is grieving a baby.

As for the detailing in this art, we mostly have blue coloring for House Arryn. I wanted to do some pink on her walls, as this is her chambers instead of joint chambers with Jon (although historically, even if she had shared chambers with Jon, her confinement rooms would be completely separate anyway) and I wanted to really drive home the childlike aspect of it, that she’s girly and frilly and has this wonder about her that comes crashing down. However, we decided it wouldn’t look good with all of the blue detailings so we stuck with different shades of blue. Jon’s outfit is inspired by an outfit in the Princess Bride, I couldn’t tell you who wore the outfit because I have not seen the movie. It looks like this though, which I usually use a reference for Robert Arryn but it works well with Jon too.

The fish is a stuffed animal from Lysa’s childhood in Riverrun. I never decided if Minisa or Cat made one, but I would more so go with that Lysa and Cat had matching ones as children. I think Lysa would probably get rid of most of her things from the Riverlands because of how hurt she was emotionally, but I still liked the symbolism there and how she’s stuck between being a child and an adult. The portrait in the background is of Minisa. Although it would make sense for Lysa to shun most everything from her life before the Eyrie, seeing as Minisa was not involved in anything that happened to her that caused her harm, I do not think that would extend to her. There’s no reason for Lysa not to feel fondness towards her mother, and especially at the age she is in this depiction, it would make sense that she would want to feel her mother’s presence while in her confinement.

Lastly, this is the inspiration for the poses. The art is called Age and Infancy by John Opie.

Thank you for reading all of this and an even bigger thank you to Sofia!! Lysa is so interesting to me, Jon Arryn too just because of how long his life spanned. I love talking about them and commissioning things that I haven’t seen other people work on before.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE FIVE : PEEPING TOM !

Starring… YAMATO 📸

SET SCRIPT :

“Helloooooooooooooo! So im thinking voyeur yamato corrupting an afab reader would go really hard.”

MATURE WARNING(S) : fingering, roommates to more, afab!reader, modern au, corruption kink, dom!yama, cunnilings (he eats you clean 🐱), voyeurism, underwear stealing, slight size kink, praise (he’s obsessed w you), overly wordy author.

DIRECTORS CUT : for my favorite writing cohort @gingersp1ce547 <3 I hope it was worth the wait.

Trying to find a place to live these past few weeks was stressing you out to no end. Every place you visited had some sort of mold infestation or made you pay insane utility fees that you know you couldn’t keep up with. That is, unless you wanted three jobs. That’s when you met him, Yamato. Supposedly he’s some rich nepo baby who split the rent at a price with you that was perfect.

You couldn’t understand why people wouldn’t wanna take the deal until he explained not everyone’s comfortable living with a man or understanding his gender identity. Fine, so be it, you both would make great roommates. That’s what you told yourself.

The two bedroom modest apartment stationed your rooms right next to each other with a living room and kitchen down the hall. Regular apartment things like a leaky tub, paper thin walls, and a light that never seems to stop flickering in and out were staples of your new cozy home.

Then there was him, a giant and boisterous guy who filled your dingy shared space with laughter and high energy. It was common to find him dancing around or working out if he wasn’t busy. You couldn’t deny there was a level of boyish charm to him that you found endearing. He made you feel safe, something about his larger than life presence caused you to feel at home with him. Almost needed. A mutual bond and understanding between you both as time went on.

You could trust him, Yamato always asked before entering your space or borrowing your belongings. He liked that you relinquished so much of yourself to him. His adorable little roommate that struts around the apartment always in a hurry to do something.

You were too tense, at least that’s what he thinks. He’s always wanted to find some way to relax you, pulling you into his hold while you both practice yoga in the living room. “You’re pretty good at this y/n, ya sure you haven’t done this before?”

He gets up to help ease your hamstring, he’s so much bigger than you are. Not that you’re paying attention though, lost in the bliss of easing that aching pain you’ve had all week.

Yamatos mind can’t stop wandering to indecent places when he sees that his entire hand almost covers the length of your torso. The contortions of your face as your muscles begin to relax. Fuck, he wants to feel you throb and whine like that on his thick fing—

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Just as quickly as his eyes glazed over, his impure desires were back to normal; big cheesy grin outstretched on his sweet face.

“Nothin! Just tryna stretch you out.��� Your body involuntary twitches at his choice of words, pushing yourself away from his hold to have some space to breathe. Of course he didn’t miss that. “Aw, did I embarrass you? Your face is heating up.”

You throw a punch at him before he catches it in his large hand, pinning it down next to your face with light force. Yamato leans down into the crook of your neck, “careful, you could hurt someone with one of those,” he patronizingly says following the long line of spit he left up the column of your neck. You shiver and god does it make him want to take you, but he won’t, and just like that he’s off of you. Toweling himself off like nothing had happened between you both.

You’re left a hot, sweaty, sticky, and absurdly horny mess. Stomping through the hallway with more than displeased footsteps, making your way to the shower to cool off.

He’s not much better himself though, pouting as the fat of your ass jiggles when you walk away. Yamato never expected to get this attached to you. The guy can’t even go a day without rummaging through your clothes to get a good whiff of you when you’re out on business. He feels himself clenching his thighs together, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth thinking of the time(s) he stole your underwear and gorged himself on the scent of you. Fingers playing with the entrance of his cunt thinking of how you’d scold him for being a pervert. It gets him so hot.

On his way to come apologize to you that night with promises of your favorite snacks with a corny movie to follow, he stops dead in his tracks hearing the whine creep from under your door. The sound of squelching hung in the air as you whimpered. Were you touching yourself?

Yamato shook his head of long white hair side to side in disbelief, collecting himself as he took a few steps back from the doorway. As good and pure his intentions with you were; there’s always that grotesque feeling within him, the one that wants to listen to you moan and writhe as you pleasure yourself so close to him. He presses his ear against the door as you heave out cry after cry for more.

He felt his own slick collecting in his briefs as his breath hitched during a particularly pathetic plea of yours, heart rate skyrocketing with each passing moment. He felt his morality crumble altogether when you let out a meek, “Ya—Yama please.”

So this is what you think about when you’re alone? Yamatos mind was racing, he couldn’t stop his hands from finding the doorknob, nor stop his feet from walking through the door that separated him from you.

Your back is arched, legs spread as your fingers deliriously curl within your warm walls. The sight forever imprinted in his mind, you’re perfect. The same urge from earlier compels his hands to find his nipples as he watches you, each roll sending electricity shooting through him. He sees your eyes crinkle in frustration while trying to get yourself off. “Ha- Yama I need more,” you say as your thighs clench around your wrist.

But he continues only to watch, wanting to savor every little plea that spills past your lips. How long will it be till you notice him? Beg him to help get you off? He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, rubbing his clit in tune with the fluidity of your wrist. Yamato never anticipated just how hot it was to watch someone like this, so vulnerable as the endorphins consume you; so much so that it blinds you of his presence in the room with you.

Your eyes flick open when you feel movement around the room, and there he is basked in the halo of your ambient lighting. More of an incubus than anything else, his eyes burn with desire as you cower under your sheets. “Wha- why are you watching me?” Although it was a question, it comes out rather declarative.

First he has to stop himself from drooling, your nipples still hard as they poke out from your thin white sheets. Of course the first thing he says is optimistic and arrogant. “Don’t beg for my help then,” he says while making the bed dip with his added weight.

“I did not beg—” he still looms closer, “what are you doing?” You pull the sheets taught as he ghosts his hands over the plush of your thighs.

“What does it look like? I’m helping you out since you asked for me.” It’s in the way the way he says it, self assured that he’s all you’ll need. Ultimately, your body can’t deny what it wants. Your arousal pooling between your legs in self defeat and embarrassment.

Yamato allows his palm to sit snug against the sheet that separates him from your warmth, digging the flat of his hand against your clit. “I can feel how wet you are through the sheet, you needed me this bad?” Your words die in your throat as you look at him dumbfounded, taking advantage of your disoriented state he strips the sheet off your body.

Your mouth is left gaping, he wastes no time taking as he wants. Licking and nipping the skin of your neck with sharp canines. The pad of his finger teases your entrance before it eases in with the help of your arousal. He smothers you in his lust, stroking that spot within you that always seemed out of reach.

It’s not soon that you’re mewling for another of his lithe digits to be knuckle deep inside you. “Patience sweetness, it’s my job to take care of you.” He’s so reassuring, sending a surge of warmth throughout your body that makes you melt like putty in his pretty hands. Sliding his ring finger inside next to his middle, he scissors you wide open.

“So wet from thinking about me, you hear that baby?” Listening to his voice centers you, drawing heed to the squelching noise of your throbbing cunt. Your legs lay flat apart as he pounds your pussy, bruising the entrance with speed alone.

You’re so close he can feel it, your inside pulsing and gripping his fingers like you don’t want them out of you. That’s when he rips them out, leaving you clenching on nothing. “Do you want to feel really good?” He asks while licking his fingers like a mutt in heat, enamored by the taste and scent of you.

He’s stripped you to the point you’d do anything for him. So, obediently you nod and mumble out a yes. “When you feel good, don’t hold back on me.” Yamato drags his thumb down your folds till he finds your clit, lightly circling the pad of his finger on top of it. He leaves feather like kisses on the insides of your thighs, sucking the skin as he gets closer to your heat.

His own cunt throbs hearing your airy sighs and breathy moans, licking your entrance to collect his due. “You taste even better than you smell,” he says against your lower lips, sliding his long tongue past the tight ring of muscle.

It feels like fucking heaven, his thumb rhythmically rolling your bud as his tongue devours your insides. All you can do is allow your pleasure to wreak havoc against your vocal cords as you lose yourself to his touch. “Bet you could never make yourself feel this good, huh?” It’s condescending but it’s pussy clenching, and you best be sure he felt it against his wet tongue.

“Only you Yama, please don’t stop,” you’d do anything to forever feel like this. So small within his warm hands that bring you a burning feeling in your lower gut. He tongues your clit, applying heavy pressure while opting to curl two fingers against your g-spot. You can see the sheen of spit and slick against his face while he makes out with your pussy. It’s downright depraved how he consumes you with his hands and mouth alone.

He finally gets what he wants, watching you clench and throb around his fingers in a hot sweat while your orgasm licks at you. Yamato thrums the pads against your insides flicking his tongue against your swollen bud. “Give it to me baby, let me know how good you feel,” and that’s all it took. His soothing voice coaxing you to your climax. It hit you like a bag of bricks, making you twitch against him as you ride it out.

A string of curses leave you as the pressure in your cunt dissipates. You cling onto his wrist to stop the overstimulation consuming you, but he can still feel the way your walls hammer against him. “So pretty when you cum.” It’s small but it’s enough to bring you back, reaching out for him to take care of you like he always does. This time with the added intimacy.

“You should let me watch you more often,” he says softly while holding you against his chest. The fact you allowed him to see you like this was astounding, therefore he would hold you for as long as you needed. Aftercare was no problem to him.

“You are such a damn vouyer,” you joke as you snuggle deeper into his chest. Yamato laughs a little at the joke, but he couldn’t help feeling it may just have been true.

Enjoy? Reblog & click here 2 see more!

[iwhyzumiihajimee]

Tokyo Revengers Imagines [ part 1- fluff ]

pairing: ken ryuguji (draken) x fem.reader

content: high school friends -> sweethearts. daily sweet moments between draken and you.

genre: tokyo revengers au, timskip! high school, fluff, angst, mature 18+

word count: 1.3k

author's note: i've been on a tokyo revengers marathon... ken ryuguji is written as a eighteen year old here.

*multi-part series*

pt.1 (F) ; pt.2 (F) ; pt.3 (F) ; pt.4 (F) ; pt.5 (M) ; pt.6 (M) ;

“I told you to stay away and look what you did.” Draken scolded you as he kneeled down beside you, ripping off a piece of his shirt and tying it around your bleeding wound.

He had warned you to stay away from a gang fight happening between Toman and a rival gang- but you didn’t listen for whatever reason. Draken was fuming, although trying to keep his anger down because you were hurt. Does no one listen to his warnings anymore?

“You’re just like Mikey ya know.”

You let out a puff of frustration at his retort, "I know you're strong and can handle these kinds of things, but it hurts me to see you get banged and bruised up sometimes... I'm strong too... I can fight (just enough). Let me protect you as well..."

Draken sighed softly at your words, although still not letting his guard down.

“I know, I know- I appreciate that you care so much about me…”“I know you can fight but please, just… don’t do anything reckless okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt like this again.” Draken’s tone was a bit softer now as he took his time tying up the bandage on your wound.

Although he tries to sound like everything is okay, and you should worry, however you knew what goes down in Toman. "This won't be the last time... because you're also reckless. Especially when your with Mikey."

Draken felt his cheeks heat up a bit, although quickly cooling himself off. He was blushing because you were right- he was indeed reckless as well, especially when he hangs around Mikey. He couldn’t deny it.

“Yes, I know. Mikey’s a bad influence on me so… what do you expect?”

You raised a brow as you disagree what he said, Mhm... I don't think Mikey is a bad influence... You both are level headed and do things for the good of Toman... I guess it's the other gangs who challenge you guys, and it gets into your egos, but then again I do understand it happens to grow Toman... Sometimes it doesn't have to be that way, the smaller the better. Strong Toman members who are loyal, strong, and faithful."

Draken was surprised by your words. Mikey was a terrible influence on him yet you thought otherwise. Draken wasn’t going to argue with you or try to change your opinion because he knew Mikey was the main influence on who he had become over all these years.

“Hm… you’re right in that. A smaller yet strong group is better than a larger but weaker one… thank you for reminding me of that.” Draken smiled softly at you, happy that you reminded him what was truly important after all these years spent protecting Toman.

You softly smiled, "ah your welcome~ I've seen you both grow and I'm always here for anything~"

Draken spoke kindly before he chuckled, "You're such a good friend, y'know that?" He looked back down at your wound to make sure the bandage was tied tightly. He stood up and took a seat next to you, patting you on the head before he said anything else. "Now, do you think we can both go home for now? You should rest at least."

Spacing out as if you been sucked into a void as you watch him finish up you bandage. Thinking of giving him a kiss on the cheek to thank him for bandaging your wound, however Draken calling you a "friend", was reminder that was all you'll ever be. You silently muttered to yourself "Ah right... friend..." Snapping back to reality a few seconds before he mentioned heading home, you both head off.

Draken watched as your eyes lingered on him for longer than usual. He thought nothing of it, but a small part of him wondered why your attention was on him. He thought he heard something in your tone, but that may have just been him overthinking things once again and being overly cautious. Nonetheless, he stood up and offered you his hand. “Then let’s go home to rest.”

you limped on the way home as draken walked beside you. Draken looked over at your legs, noticing your limping for the first time. He looked concerned, letting go of your hand and going in front of you a little to match you speed. "Do you need help walking?" He asked. The stubborn person you are you denied his help, continuing to limp even though it hurts.

Draken knowing how of hassle you can be at times, his tone became firm which caused him to stop walking. "No, clearly you're not fine. Listen to me, I'm just gonna carrying you back home. No discussion." He gets in front and lowers himself so I can be carried on his back. With no arguments you hovered over yourself onto his back, "Okay... don't you dare fall off though."

Draken chuckled before lifting you up and carrying you. He walked at a steady pace, slowing down and making sure not to run since he didn’t want you to get hurt in any way. Draken had a warm look on his face as he made his way back with you in his arms.

Wrapping your arms comfortably around his neck as he carried you. You nuzzled a little and blush at his kind gesture, "I doubt I'll fall... Your always there to catch me~"

Draken’s blush grew more and more apparent, knowing fully well how you had just nuzzled into him. It made him happy that you felt safe and comfortable around him, but it also made his cheeks burn even more. Draken had only one goal in mind, which was to get you home safely so that you can rest and get better.

Shifting your head to stare the the night sky as you are both under the moonlight, breathing in the crips cool air, "ahh~ the night is peaceful~" Draken nodded in agreement, loving how peaceful the atmosphere became once it got later in the night. The full moon illuminated the sky and the light breeze felt refreshing against his skin. Draken took in the sights surrounding them and enjoyed the tranquility in its pure form, which would be hard to find during the day.

Moving me head towards the side view of his face and stared a little, admiring the nice soft moment, "Draken-kun?~"

Draken replied, "Yes?" looking over at you as you shifted your head up towards his face. He could almost swear that there was something on your mind, since your eyes were slightly fixated on his own. His blush would grow even more if possible now that you got closer to him. Draken’s words were still soft and kind, the same way they have always been to you.

For some reason you had the feeling in wanting to ask if he was interested in anyone, but you didn't want to ruin the moment, then having to deal with the awkward silence you back down. "Never mind..." You smiled, playing it cool as you tried to enjoy the rest of the night walked back home, placing you head nuzzling against his neck.

Draken’s heart was racing, not knowing if he should admit that he liked you or not. As you nuzzled your head against his neck, he got more and more flustered by the second. Despite everything, Draken couldn’t bring himself to say what’s on his mind. So, even though he wanted to admit his feelings for you, he stayed silent.

Arriving home and drops you off, "thank you for taking me home~ please get home safe, yeah?" Draken placed you down on the ground inside your home, smiling softly as his eyes met yours. Even with the moonlight illuminating everything, Draken was able to see your face clearly which made his heart ache. He wanted to say so much to you at that very moment, but Draken couldn’t bring himself to do any of it.

"Yeah, anytime~ I'll get home safely... You should rest, okay? See you later..."

Draken smiled and waved goodbye to you before he stepped out and made his way back home. He was trying to process what had just happened as he made his way back, his heart beating rapidly as he let his thoughts consume him by themselves.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Three Little Loves: The Birth of the Triple Threat Harlows

First Babies of Private Garden Fic

AN: Mature topics ahead. There are mentions of blood, chest compressions, death and other medical terms that I did my best to put in layman's terms so that people would be able to understand. If anything is unclear, all you have to do is ask and I will explain it! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it and we're finally here!

Synopsis: You give birth to your three babies, Ivy, Axel, and Autumn, but not without complications that led Jack to think he would have to be without his wife for the rest of his life.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Babies of Private Garden Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The night was clear as a few stars peppered the sky as you were sitting outside in the backyard in a comfortable silence taking it all in. In just a few hours, you and Jack would be able to officially add the title of parents to your lives and the two of you would now be responsible for three little versions of the both of you.

It was a long time coming with the pregnancy and the two of you at first swept things under the rug and put them to the side regarding the both of you and the relationship between the two of you that was considered a marriage if anyone could call it that.

Being petty, lying to each other, going behind each other’s backs, and not being considerate of the other’s feelings was just a tip of the iceberg of what had only occurred in the past year when Jack’s career truly skyrocketed from his success of First Class. You kept it to yourself how it bothered you how he was acting differently and blamed it on him being under pressure to maintain this level of success. However you did warn him right before the two of you moved to Atlanta for him never to lose sight of his humble beginnings and to never forget how he got to where he is.

During the last half of your pregnancy, the two of you did start to go to marriage counseling as well as seeing a therapist together and apart not wanting to bring the triplets into a hot mess express. The two of you still had a long way to go and truth be told, you knew that you never wanted to do this with anyone else despite what the two of you had gone through. You had a lingering thought in your head during the last therapy session wondering if in fact the two of you got married entirely too early even if you knew that it was eventually going to happen anyway. Yes, you loved him and you knew that he was your soulmate, however, it happened when the two of you had turned nineteen not even being able to explore the world around you yet and you had a feeling that had a big part to play in it.

After you had left Jack in your shared condo in California and before you found out you were pregnant, you were thinking long and hard about separating from him for a while. 

Legally. 

You knew in your heart of hearts that you didn’t want to divorce him and would never bring yourself to do it, but you felt that as of lately, you were always getting the short end of the stick when it came to him, when before you would always be his priority. You could admit to yourself that you weren’t innocent either in all of this and Jack was not the only one to be blamed for what went down between the two of you. A lot had to be worked on from both ends and you wanted for your kids to be able to witness a happy and successful marriage.

Right now you couldn’t have either of those labels on it.

Jack stepped up into high gear when you told him that you were in fact pregnant and would do anything that a loving husband would. However, you didn’t feel as though he was hiding something from you, that wasn’t quite the right word, but you knew deep down he was scared shitless and had his concerns about this entire situation. However, he didn’t express his feelings about it to you at all since you originally told him. He gave you pieces here and there, but that was it. 

Another thought was Jack always wanting and needing to be the strong one and not necessarily showing his vulnerable side to you and you didn’t know when that shift happened because the two of you would always be laying in your backyard at night talking about anything and everything and now it seems as if everything is on the surface. 

You honestly didn’t know how your husband was feeling deep down and that bothered you to no end. He would simply brush you off when you mentioned it and you were running out of ideas in order to get him to open up more. 

It was one in the morning and your alarm as well as Jack's was set for five in order to get up and get ready to head to the hospital. You were growing anxious as the clock ticked by and just wanted to be able to hold them.

Yesterday, you cornered Urban in his room and had a long talk with him that led to the both of you being upset. Urban more so than you because of what you had told him.

You softened him up by buying him Ramen before the initial blow.

“Urby? You have to promise me something, okay? Just in case things don’t go well tomorrow.”

“What? What the hell is that even supposed to mean?!”

“Urby, please. Just listen to me because this is already hard enough.” You muttered while sitting next to him on his bed.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“I… I’ve written letters for Jack, the triplets, you and all of PG, my parents, my sister, Jess, Blanca, Victoria, and Diamonte if anything were to happen to me and you cannot under any circumstance open it unless something does. I wanted to give them to you because… Jack…. I don’t understand where his head is at the moment and I know he’s scared even if he doesn’t admit it. I know he’s putting on a brave face, but he’s scared of losing me and for good reason. I mean…. I couldn’t have this conversation with him without him going off the deep end so I knew that I had to come to you. Now, if it comes down to saving me or them….”

Urban immediately cut you off.

“No. Absolutely not, I can’t…. I don’t want to hear this.” You could see Urban getting visibly upset and you were also doing your best not to cry.

“Urban Henry, please. I know that this is hard to hear, but I have to be realistic. If anything were to happen to me, I know for a fact that you will raise them as if they were your own and help Jack to the best of your ability. We picked you to be their Godfather for a reason. But save them over me. They deserve to have a chance to live.”

“You aren’t… you aren’t going anywhere, okay? You’re not.” Urban quietly said and was trying to do his best not to let the tears fall since you saw that his eyes were watering. 

“Don’t cry because then I’m going to start crying and Jack will then question both of us.”

“How can I not? I don’t want to think of losing one of my best friends in the entire world.”

“I know, but you know that I am always going to look over you and protect you, right? That’s never ever going to change whether I’m physically here or not. So here are the letters and this is between me and you and you cannot tell Jack unless you know… something happens.”

“Now if nothing happens, are you going to tell him?”

“I haven’t decided yet, but it would be smart if I did. I love you so so much and thank you for all that you do for the both of us.” You said while leaning over to hug Urban as much as your stomach would allow.

“Love you too and you better not fucking leave me.”

You heard the sliding glass door open and footsteps which you knew belonged to your husband who came and sat next to you while grabbing your hand in his.

“What are you doing up?” He quietly asked while kissing your cheek as you still had your gaze held onto the sky.

“I can’t sleep, but that isn’t anything new.” You replied while shrugging and Jack started rubbing small circles on the back of your hand that he was holding.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby. We’re almost there.”

“But you don’t know that. I don’t mean to be negative or anything like that but it’s true. There’s not one baby in there, there’s three. Things can go wrong even if there's only one.”

“And you have the best possible team of doctors looking after you and I have made sure of it. You’re going to get the best care and have been getting it this entire time.”

“Promise me something.” You quietly said after a few minutes.

“What is it?”

“And don’t fight me on this. I figured that I needed to tell you this before they cut me open.”

“Baby, you’re making me nervous.” Jack quietly said while looking over at you and from that point you knew that you couldn't tell him about the letters. Not yet anyway.

Now you were hesitant to even say anything about it since you know Jack likes to worry 90% of the time and probably wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep after this.

“Can you make sure you have my favorite pizza and Calypso ready to eat afterwards?”

Jack left out a small laugh before nodding his head and leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Of course, baby. Your wish is my command. Anything you want or need, you know that I’m going to do it for you. That's not ever going to change."

“I appreciate you for that.”

Jack placed another kiss on your cheek before responding.

“Hey, you want to find our stars? It’s been a while since we looked at them.”

One thing that drew Jack to you was how smart you were and your obsession with all things space related. He was convinced that if you weren’t doing music that you would probably work for NASA.

You eagerly nodded as Jack went to go and get the telescope and you stood up as best you could waiting for him to come back.

Once he did, he set everything up and pulled out the little paper that had both of your stars on it that you gave to each other when he first asked you to be his girlfriend when the two of you were fifteen.

“Can you find it or do you need my help like always?” You playfully asked him and he simply shook his head and laughed at you.

“I got this baby.”

“You sure about that because you are definitely looking in the wrong direction.”

“Oh. Then maybe I do.” Jack quietly said before you laughed at him and quickly pointed the telescope in the right direction and zoomed in on his star.

“There it is.” You said backing away from the telescope in order to give Jack enough room to look through it and see his star.

“We should get the three of them one too.”

You quickly nodded in agreement and rubbed your belly at the thought of being able to teach them all that you knew about space and show them the stars that you and Jack are going to name after them.

Then it was time for you to find yours and all you had to do was move the telescope slightly to your right.

“Still as bright as the first time I saw it.” You quietly said as you felt Jack behind you.

“Still as bright as the love that I have for you when I first came up with the idea to get it for you.”

“And I hope that your love for me never dims.” You muttered in response, not sure if Jack had heard you, but he did.

“Why would you ever think that?”

“Just… this past year neither of us have truly been all in when it came to this marriage and all of a sudden I get pregnant when we weren’t even on the best terms. I feel that we still aren’t, but it’s moving in the right direction.”

"I…. I can admit that what happened shouldn't have happened and I'll be making that up to you for the rest of my life."

"It goes both ways because it wasn't only your fault but mine too."

"From this point forward, that is never going to happen again. I treated you as if you weren't my priority when you are. I promised to always take care of you when I asked you to marry me and I've fallen short of that. I just want us to get back to how we were before."

"As long as we work at it, we will." You quietly answered as Jack leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you. More than anything in this world."

"I love you too." You replied in response as you hugged him tighter. 

"Now let's get some sleep because you know we probably won't get any quality sleep until they're eighteen."

"You mean the rest of our lives as bad as you like to worry and make me worry with you."

"I figured I'd get an early start. And you know I always worry about you and that won't ever change."

"Baby, you already have gray hair so I'm going to need for you to cut it out."

"Ehh, no promises."

—

You were now being prepped in the operating room as Jack was sitting to the left of you and you had to admit that he looked very cute in his little blue bonnet with a few curls sticking out and blue scrubs that the staff had given them to wear.

Your anxiety was at an all time high and you were doing your best to calm your breathing as Jack was holding your hand.

“What if I feel them cutting me?” You asked as your eyes went wide and looked over at your husband who simply shook his head.

“They have done this a million times and know what they are doing.” Jack answered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead and you nodded.

“The only thing you’ll feel Mrs. Harlow is pressure on your stomach and that’s it. We have everything set up for them once they are out and you already know that they will be in the NICU just to give them the little extra help that they need in order for them to be strong enough to come home.”

“Okay.” You quietly said as you held Jack’s hand tighter. 

“Okay! Here we go!”

You glanced at the clock in the room to see that it was 7:19 am and that was when the first incision was made. 

As promised, you didn’t feel anything except pressure as Jack was being the most supportive husband that you could have ever asked for and helped to keep you calm. After the two of you finally went to bed early that morning, he simply laid there staring at the ceiling absolutely scared shitless about what was due to happen in a few hours as he watched you sleep peacefully which he was surprised by seeing as this was probably the most you had gotten in weeks.

“You got this, baby. They’re almost here.”

“First baby is out! It’s a girl! Here mom and dad. Look how gorgeous she is." One of the nurses came to the head of the bed where the two of you were and the two of you couldn’t do anything but smile. You heard her cry and couldn't help but let a few tears slip out.

“Ivy May.” You and Jack said at the exact same time while laughing. It was only right to name her after both of your mothers seeing as how big of an influence that they had on the both of you.

She was then whisked away to get evaluated by the NICU nurse to make sure she was indeed stable as you then became nervous because of what was said. 

“Number two is out. It’s a boy!”

The one thing that you were listening out for was his cry and when you didn’t hear anything you started to panic.

“Why is he not crying?!” You asked while turning towards Jack who then got a terrified look on his face.

“Breathe for me, okay. Take some deep breaths. Slowly in and out.” Jack said and you followed his instructions as best as you could when suddenly you heard Axel's first cry.

“Thank God.”

“He’s not breathing too well on his own so we’re going to intubate him and take him upstairs.”

Neither you or Jack got to see Axel as he was whisked away to the NICU and you were trying your best not to think the absolute worst. Jack could see the absolute fear in your eyes and was trying to put on a brave face for the both of you. 

“And here comes number three! It’s a girl! You did an amazing job mom! Going to close you up and get you to postpartum.”

“I told you everything would be fine, babe. I have one bad ass wife. Three at one time? Your fave could never.” Jack said and you immediately laughed as he leaned over to kiss you.

You weren’t sure how long it would take in order to stitch you back up, but more than a few minutes had passed and you were growing nervous but tried to relax seeing as the hardest part was over.

At least you thought it was. 

Even though you were laying down, you suddenly felt lightheaded and knew that something wasn't right and Jack immediately took notice since you weren’t interacting with him as much as before. 

“Baby? Babe? Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asked suddenly in a panic. You were trying to do your best to talk in order to respond to him, but nothing was coming out but you eventually managed to utter a few words.

"Something isn't right."

"What's not right?!" He immediately asked you, but you didn't say anything else.

“Y/N! Why is she not answering me?!” Jack turned to the nurses and doctors looking for answers as they now shared looks of panic between them even if they were trying to do their best hiding it from Jack. They were professionals and the last thing they would ever want is to cause fear, but their job description required them to be honest. 

"Mrs. Harlow, try to stay awake for me."

“She’s losing a lot of blood, her uterus isn’t contracting as much as we want it to so we’re giving her drugs in order to help speed up the process.”

“Hang O neg now and hang the fluids wide open. Call the blood bank for more units just in case STAT.”

That was the last thing that you remember hearing before your hand went limp in Jack’s.

The heart monitor that you were hooked up to flatlined and Jack’s eyes went wide.

"I LOST HER PULSE!"

“No, no this cannot be happening…. no.” Was all Jack quietly said as he looked at you in disbelief.

“Start compressions."

"Someone get the defibrillator!"

“She’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Mr. Harlow, your wife’s heart has stopped and we’re trying to get her back, now go with Andrew and let us work. We’re going to do all that we can in order for her to be able to see her triplets grow up.” One of the nurses said to Jack and she maneuvered him away from you as he saw them pounding on your chest.

"GET THE EPINEPHRINE READY."

"PULSE CHECK!"

"I DON’T FEEL ANYTHING."

"RESUME COMPRESSIONS."

“INTUBATE HER NOW!”

Once Jack was out in the hallway, he simply had tunnel vision and was trying to keep himself together and not have a panic attack. In that moment, he knew he had to call her thinking the absolute worst.

He was about to be a widow at 25 with newborn triplets. 

“Mom, Y/N’s heart stopped. I don’t… I don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

—

When your eyes fluttered open, you were confused about where you were or what had happened and the fact that you noticed that you couldn’t talk. Your eyes went wide and immediately started to pull at every tube covering your face, but a gentle hand stopped you.

“Hi Y/N. You’re okay sweetie, but I need you to relax for a second. You’re in the intensive care unit because you bled out after they delivered your babies and your heart stopped. They put a breathing tube down your throat in order to protect your airway. I’m your nurse, Lydia and I’ve been taking care of you for the last two days. Your babies are in the NICU and your husband is there with them now. He has only left your side to go and see them and then he’s right back here waiting for you to wake up. I finally convinced him to go home and rest and he finally did yesterday when I had finished my shift. You have an amazing husband and support team that is out of this world. We’ll get you situated and see about taking you to see them.”

When Lydia finished, you couldn’t help but to still have a thousand questions run through your mind and a few tears slip out.

How were the triplets since you only saw them for mere seconds as they were whisked away from you to go straight to the NICU even though your doctor had already told you that would be the case. You were most concerned about if their breathing was okay. You didn’t even get to see Axel since you remembered them saying that they needed to intubate him immediately when he came out. 

You couldn’t even imagine how Jack was for the past few days and that hurt your heart to no end not knowing if his wife was going to live or not. 

“They have one strong mama and your husband has one strong wife. You fought tooth and nail in order to get back to them.” Lydia quietly said as she wiped away your tears.

“I’m going to go get the doctor so we can see about taking the breathing tube out. I will be right back and your husband should be back soon.”

All you could do was nod as she left the room and as promised, less than ten minutes later you had dozed off once again and suddenly heard Jack’s footsteps. You peeked your eyes open to see him carrying a huge bear and setting it in the corner before coming over to you.

As soon as he was within reach, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it as tight as you could startling him.

“Baby! You’re okay… I…..” Jack started to say as he leaned over to kiss the top of your head and give you a hug as best as he could with all the different equipment in the way.

You lost count of how many kisses he placed over your face, but of course you didn’t care.

“I thought that I was going to lose you. Your heart stopped twice." Jack quietly said through his tears and you couldn’t help but to start crying again yourself. 

“One minute you were talking to me and then I don’t even know what happened. Despite everything that has happened in the past year, you know for a damn fact that I don’t want to be in this life without you. I love you more than I can even put into words. And what we made are absolutely beautiful. Ivy is doing okay, but still on oxygen and all three are in the incubator. Axel still has the breathing tube and Autumn is the feisty one that keeps taking the oxygen off. I’ve been going back and forth between you and them since everything happened.”

You saw Lydia come back in the room with who you assumed was the doctor and she was all smiles which indicated to you that you were about to get this tube out of your throat.

“Okay we're going to turn off the ventilator and I'm going to suction your mouth for any mucus or anything. Once we take out the tube, we need you to take a deep breath. It's going to feel weird since now you have to breathe on your own after four days."

You simply looked over at Jack and he nodded his head.

You had missed the first four days of your triplets life and would never be able to get that back. 

Once the tube was out you were finally able to take a deep breath and as Lydia told you it felt weird as if you weren't getting enough air.

"We're going to put you on high flow oxygen and then eventually decrease you down until you don't need it anymore.

"Okay." You quietly said and it came out almost as a whisper, but Jack was just glad to hear your voice. 

They took your vitals and watched you for a few minutes before explaining that they would start you on liquids and you would eventually move up to a regular diet as soon as the speech therapist evaluated you.

When the two of them left the room, it was once again only you and Jack and he didn’t want to leave your sight.

He moved his chair closer to you as you reached over to play in his curls.

"I….read the letter you wrote for me. As soon as I told Urb what had happened, he didn't even hesitate to give it to me, not knowing how everything was going to play out. I’m not sure if he gave anyone else theirs or if he even read his, but he felt that it was important to read mine and for good reason.”

"The thought came to me to do it a few weeks ago."

“It’s almost like you knew.”

“I just thought it was important that I do it. Like I said one baby is dangerous but adding two more to that?”

“He also told me that if it came down to it, you wanted me to save them and not you.”

At that point you looked away from your husband and was now more interested in the pink and blue nail polish that was covering your fingers for your one boy and two girls. 

“I’ve lived already and they haven’t.”

“You’ve barely lived. You’re 24.”

“But still, I knew that as much as Urban didn’t want to hear that, he was going to be strong enough to fulfill my wishes if you weren’t. I knew that making that decision would be impossible for you so I asked him to do it. I know that you wouldn’t want to be without me but, I’ll be damned if you were going to lose another child. That would have broken you.”

“If it went either way it would have broken me. So I’m happy that I didn’t have to make that decision. I couldn’t imagine you going through this entire pregnancy and not even being able to see them grow up.”

“I know.” You quietly answered and immediately sighed. 

“What’s on your mind besides wanting to see them?”

“I’m just extremely overwhelmed. My body just went through a lot and I know it’s not ever going to be the same again. I mean it’s obvious that it never will be, but still.”

“And we’re going to get through this one day at a time. I will be with you every step of the way to help you through this. I love you and nothing is ever going to change that.”

“I love you too and thank you for that.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me for doing my job as your husband.” Jack softly answered you as he leaned over to kiss you and you couldn’t help but to smile. 

You heard a soft knock and in walked Lydia with the biggest smile on her face.

“Are you ready to see your triplets?”

You eagerly nodded as she walked over towards you to unhook you from your IV fluids and help you get in the wheelchair in order to take you over to see them.

You weren’t sure why, but now you had suddenly become nervous. Jack had already warned you that all three of them were in an incubator and Axel still had a breathing tube since he wasn’t able to breathe on his own quite yet. Even with all that he told you, you still didn’t feel ready, however, it was now or never. This was your reality and you had to see it through along with Jack. You felt as if your heart was about to beat out of your chest. 

Lydia grabbed a portable oxygen tank so that you would be able to keep it in your nose to help you get used to breathing on your own again while also giving you pain medicine since she knew your first time up was going to be the hardest. 

Once she was finished setting everything up, she helped you to sit and dangle on the side of the bed and you felt as if someone ripped you in half.

Well, they did.

Literally.

“Shit, this hurts.” You muttered and you weren’t quite sure where to pinpoint the pain, your chest from them doing compressions on you or your actual incision site.

“You did the hard part, mama. It’s going to hurt, no doubt about that but it will get better with the more that you move around. Sit there for a few seconds on the side of the bed before I help you over to the wheelchair.”

You nodded in response and did as you were told before she helped you to stand up and maneuver towards it praying that you wouldn’t suddenly get dizzy or lightheaded. 

Once you were settled, the three of you then made your way to the NICU.

It didn’t take long seeing as it was on the floor right below where you were in the intensive care unit right next to the postpartum unit where you were hoping to be soon once you were able to get a little bit stronger.

“And here we are. I know that they are just as excited to see you as you are to see them. They have the best doctors and nurses taking care of them. 

Upon arriving, Lydia explained the need to do a surgical scrub of your hands and arms before entering not wanting any unnecessary germs causing harm to any of the babies.

Once she wheeled you into the room with Jack following close behind, you immediately knew which three were yours even if you saw them for mere seconds and one of them you hadn’t seen at all.

You were in front of Axel first and saw his tiny body taking small breaths and took in the sight of his curly hair that resembled Jack’s.

So that definitely explained the heartburn that you had throughout the entire time that you were pregnant with them.

You looked to Lydia to see if it was okay if you reached your hand in to touch him and she simply nodded.

Once you did, he immediately grabbed a hold of your finger as if telling you that he was okay.

“You have to admit that we made some cute babies.” Jack said as he leaned down to whisper in your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“True, but looking at Axel, I did most of the work.”

“I-... okay not arguing because I don’t want to end up sleeping on the couch.”

“Smart man.”

When Axel let your finger go, Ivy was next to him while Autumn was next to her on the end and looked over to see exactly what Jack was saying about her taking her oxygen off because she was fiddling with it. A few tears escaped, but you were in no way, shape, or form sad.

You were happy.

You lived to be able to see your triplets grow up and couldn’t wait to see what was in store for them and the amazing things that they would do.

“Babe, you okay?” Jack asked while peering down at you and seeing your face. 

This time there was absolutely no hesitation in your answer. 

“I’m more than okay, I’m happy.”

Taglist:

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[musings-of-a-rose]

Falling Slowly - Chapter 2

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!

And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

<<Chapter 1<<

“Would you rather never be able to wear pants or never be able to wear shorts?”

Tommy laughs, his entire body shaking it with it. “What kind of question is that?”

I smirk at him. “Just answer it.”

“I think you know the answer.”

“You do love your Daisy Dukes.”

Tommy pokes my rib and I flinch, giggling as I pull away from him. “Hey don’t attack me!”

Tommy lunges towards me, fingers outstretched as I scream, not moving fast enough to avoid his waggling fingers. They find their way into my sides, tears streaming down my face as I giggle uncontrollably, my body twitching to try and get away, but Tommy just pulls me in closer. 

“S-s-STOP!” I throw my entire body backwards on the couch to try and get away, but Tommy comes with me, pressing his body into mine. My laughs slowly subside as he stops tickling me, his eyes switching between mine and my lips. I swear he can feel my heart beating through my chest. 

“W-would you rather be balding but fit or overweight with a head full of hair?”

“Way to kill the mood.” Tommy was smiling, but he lifts himself off of me, extending his hand to help me up. 

“Which one, Tommy?”

He puffs out some air, eyes shifting up like he’s thinking. “This is a hard one. I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself and I can’t help but look for just a brief moment. 

“Yes, yes. Very hot. Answer the question.”

“Have you seen this hair? I ain’t given’ it up.”

“That’s fair.”

We resume watching the movie and I lay my head on his broad shoulder, hoping that he can’t hear how my heart still beats through my chest.

It’s been the week from hell. Any minor inconvenience happened, mixing in with semi major issues, all contributing to my stress levels being over the top, even more so than normal. 

It’s Friday night and, like clockwork, Tommy knocks on my door at 7:30pm. He is annoyingly prompt. I’d almost cancelled tonight, but he's the one thing I look forward to every week.

“Hey Daisy!” Tommy is way too chipper for a Friday night after a week of hard work.

“Hey.”

He whistles. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Good thing I brought this then.” Tommy holds up a case of beer. “I’ve cleared my schedule for a good hangover tomorrow if needed.”

I can’t help the small smile that creeps across my face. “Thanks. Pizza just got here about 5 minutes before you did.” 

“Great. I’m starvin’. Oh, I managed to snag Gladiator for tonight.”

“Pop it in.”

We sit and eat, making commentary on the movie. But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to at least hide my frustration. Something that I was desperately trying to hide from Tommy - he doesn’t need to deal with my shit on top of his. Unfortunately, I’m not as slick as I think, and Tommy is way sweeter than he should be. Maybe laying on his shoulder wasn’t such a great idea. The movie quiets, dialogue happening between some of the characters, and Tommy leans his head on mine.

“You ok?”

I sigh. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t sound fine.”

“It’s just work.”

“Stressing you out again?”

“Just one of those weeks where anything that could go wrong, did. And anything that could take as long as humanly possible, did.”

“You need to let out some of that stress. It’s not healthy.”

I laugh. “Duh. Why didn’t I think of that?”

He’s quiet for a moment and I think I hurt his feelings. But before I can apologize, he speaks quietly.

“You know what you need? You need to get laid. You’re not getting any which really doesn’t help with the stress.”

What did he just say? Did he just suggest I get laid to calm down? Wait, is he offering?

“Yeah well, that may be, but in order to get laid, I’d have to have a boyfriend.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Are you suggesting I go find some random guy to hookup with?”

“N-no. Not some random guy.”

“Then who?”

He pauses. “Me.”

What?

I sit up, turning to stare at him, hoping my mouth isn’t hanging open like it is in my head. He chuckles nervously, eyes darting around the room, barely staying on me, his hands rubbing down his thighs over his jeans.

“You know what? That was stupid. I didn’t mean-”

"We'd have to set some ground rules."

Tommy's eyes snap to mine. "You..You're serious?"

"I am."

Tommy shifts in his seat, straightening himself out while trying to look chill and relaxed.

"Like, uh, like what-what exactly?"

"Hhmm… well, we still remain friends."

"That's a given."

“If one person wants to leave immediately…after, that’s ok. No obligation to stay.”

“Sounds good.”

"We can't get jealous if the other person wants to date someone else."

He’s silent a moment. “Seems fair.”

“And…oh, if either of us wants to call it off, it’s off. No hard feelings.”

“Oh, I can’t promise I won’t have hard feelings,” Tommy smirks at his joke as I roll my eyes, a smile on my face.

“Deal?” I stick my hand out.

Tommy looks at my hand. “Oh darlin’. That’s not how we’re sealin’ this deal.”

A rush of wet goes straight between my thighs and I try to swallow back the sound I just made. 

Tommy chuckles darkly while he shakes my now sweaty hand. “Deal.”

He pulls me close, his large, warm hand coming up to cradle my cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of my head and winding their way into my hair. His lips are just above mine, his breath warm and hot on mine. 

“Are you sure, darlin’?”

My head is full of desire, Tommy’s scent surrounding me, his hand grounding me to him, but I manage a nod.

“Yes,” I sigh.

He presses his lips to mine, soft and warm, tasting slightly of tobacco, as they gently push mine apart, his tongue sliding into my mouth. My hands slide up his broad chest, settling there for a moment as we both moan and get lost in a kiss that feels like we had both had been waiting for.

I throw my leg over his lap and straddle him, my hands sliding up to his face to tug at his curls at the back of his head. He moans and I do too, rolling my hips to get some kind of friction on my rapidly heating cunt. Tommy’s hands grip my hips, guiding me and helping me grind down more as I whine into his mouth and feel him harden under his jeans. 

I throw my head back, gasping out his name as he kisses my chest, pulling at the hem of my shirt. I get the hint, yanking my shirt from me and throwing it across the room, my fingers already undoing my bra clasp before my shirt hits the floor, the bra joining it a moment later.

“Oh shit!” I cry out, as Tommy latches onto one of my nipples, sucking, licking, and nibbling as he still guides my hips to roll over his jean–clad erection. He switches to the other side, moaning when I tug his hair more. 

Suddenly, he stands, sliding his hands under my ass as I wrap my legs around him, our lips finding each other as he marches down the hall to my room, kicking the door open. I giggle as he tosses me on the bed, grabbing my ankles and yanking me towards the edge of it. A quick glance up at me for a final confirmation, and my enthusiastic nod has him undoing my pants, quickly sliding them off and tossing them behind him. He stares down at my panties and I’m grateful that I actually wore cute ones today instead of my regular "I don't give a fuck" underwear. He reaches for my pant line but I stop him.

“Wait…you have entirely too many clothes on.”

He smirks, his eyes darkening even more. “You’re absolutely right.”

He sheds his shirt and while I knew how he was built, it was never in this situation. Outside of my fantasies, of course. He undoes the button on his jeans, sliding them down and off, balancing on each foot to take off his socks, both of us giggling as he nearly falls over in doing so. Then he’s back by me, fingers dancing at the hem of my panties for a moment before he hooks his fingers in, sliding them down and off, his eyes never leaving my pussy.

“Fuck, you’re prettier’n I imagined.”

He leans his head down, but I put my hand out to stop him. He looks up at me from between my legs, concern on his face.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do you not want me to?”

I can feel the heat coming off my cheeks because yes, I very much want him to do that. “No, of course I do. Like, I really do….But we agreed to sex and you don’t have to do all of…this.” I wave my hand around, aiming it between my thighs.

“Darlin’, we agreed to be friends with benefits. Not friends with some benefits. You get my dick, but you also get my mouth too.”

And before I can say anything else, he licks up the center of me and I whine, my back pushing further into the bed as he pries my legs open wider, using his broad shoulders to hold them open. He licks at me like he’d been dying to do this the entire time we’ve known each other, sucking gently and nibbling at my inner thigh. His finger comes up to my entrance as he rubs slow, small circles there, gathering up my arousal before slowly pushing in. I cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he pulls his finger out, adding another as he pushes in, curling his finger and tapping until he found the spot I desperately hoped he would find. 

“There! Oh shit, there!”

He scissors his fingers, licking and sucking at my clit and my hand flies out, gripping those beautiful curls. I look down at him between my thighs and he must feel my eyes on him. He looks up at me and smirks, his tongue darting out to lick at my clit and that’s all it takes to have my thighs shaking, twitching under his shoulders as I cry out random words. Once I come down, he crawls up my body, leaving little kisses on my skin as he goes, sucking on a spot on my neck as he grinds his still cloth covered dick into my soaked pussy. 

“You want it rough or slow, darlin’?”

“You have multiple settings?”

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am. Now, how do you want to be fucked today?”

He’s going to kill me.

“Tommy, you can rail me as fast or as slow as you want, so long as you make me forget my hard week. I won’t break.”

“Fuck, darlin’, you may just kill me yet.” He pulls back, getting off the bed and reaching for the hem of his boxer briefs. “Safe word is tomatoes.”

Before I can question it, he slides his boxers down and kicks them off, standing upright in his full, naked, broad chested, well endowed glory. He smirks when he sees me staring at him. Tommy crawls up my body again, his lips finding mine as he slides his large cock through my folds. He pauses at my leaking entrance, pulling back to look at me. His hand comes up to grip my chin and when I look at him, he slowly pushes inside of me. 

While he’s not porn star large, he’s definitely the most endowed man I’ve ever slept with and damn does he know what he’s doing. I can feel every inch of him filling me up, pushing at the back of me, his breath hot on my face as he watches it contort in pleasure. He pulls out and pushes in slowly a few more times to allow me to adjust before he snaps his hips, pushing himself inside even further and I cry out. He sets an increasingly rough pace, snapping his hips against mine, adding that extra thrust that I swear is going to bruise me and I don’t even care. He turns my head to the side and nibbles at my earlobe, kissing down my neck gently, in stark contrast to the rough, deep thrusts he’s fucking me with and it’s all too much and not enough, my legs wrapping around him, willing him to do more. He pulls back slightly, pushing my legs up and hooking them under his arms as he continues to rail me at this new angle, hitting multiple spots simultaneously. 

“Oh God, Tommy!” I scream his name as I come, my hands fisting the sheets, head thrown back, nearly buried in the mattress. 

He keeps the pace but brings a hand up to my clit, rubbing circles there, only needing a few moments before he coaxes another orgasm from me, this one harder than the last as I scream his name again.

“Fuck, Tommy, fucking come inside of me!”

“Fuck!” Tommy rams his hips into me a few more sporadic times as he comes, panting out heavy words as he fills me up, our heavy breaths the only sound in the near silent room. 

He pulls out of me with a hiss, walking into my bathroom and getting a couple of washcloths wet. He comes back out and cleans me up, chuckling as my thighs twitch when he dabs at my overstimulated cunt. He chucks them in my hamper and comes back to the bed, sitting on it next to me, where I haven’t moved since he got off of me. 

“You ok, darlin’? Forget your hard week?”

“Mmmhmm,” I say, my eyes heavy with post fucking bliss. “You’re amazing at that, Tommy.”

“Ah, I do alright.”

“A Fucking King.”

He laughs. “I’m making a shirt.”

He slides into bed next to me, pulling me next to him as he wraps his body around mine.

“You cuddle too?”

“Only when I’m cold.” I can feel him holding back a laugh.

“Well, if your cock gets cold, and I’m asleep, you have my permission to put it inside of me.”

I feel his dick twitch behind me. “I may hold you to that.”

Tommy did take me up on my offer, softly thrusting into me from behind as he rubs slow circles into my clit. I wake to an orgasm, quietly moaning his name as he comes again, biting my shoulder as he does. 

But as we make breakfast, Tommy laughing and joking around, still trying to tickle me as we flip the pancakes, it hits me.

I am totally fucked, in more ways than one.

>>Chapter 3>>

General Taglist:

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[small-world-au]

“Will you stay?”

*this takes place after the church and getting his new friend Luna home!*

As he continued to flick his lighter, he began to fight his tears once again. He’s such a terrible boyfriend, isn’t he???…

The moment they got together, he swore to Sora that he’ll make sure NO ONE would hurt him as long as they have one another…but he STILL GOT FUCKING HURT!

Stone groaned with frustration and guilt as he struggled to turn on his lighter for his cigarette, thinking how life was before Sora. It was true he was very grateful for his adoptive family friends…but it was such a long time since he had someone whose on the same level of maturity and were able share about his deepest insecurities with.

No one’s ever seen him with eyes filled with genuine love and understanding, no one’s ever NOT called him ‘pathetic’ or ‘weak’ when he cried, and

It was someone who knew him all his life and stuck with him despite everything…

Sora was his miracle…and how did he repay him? By leaving him by himself with psycho of father and got beaten to a pulp! He HATED that he wasn’t there to save him, he HATED seeing Sora not smiling as much and was scared for his life, and he HATED that he wasn’t there to stop others from taking away the only sunshine he had. And now Sora’s out there! all alone and possibly hurt! Not to mention there was a FUCKING MURDERER on the loose!

He threw the lighter the far corner, yelling out in anguish at these horrid thoughts. Tears started falling at the thought of never being able to hold him in arms or resting on the mattress with Kip as they slept to one of Sora’s gentle melodies as he baked something sweet for him and his friends.

He needed a drink…he popped open a cold one and was about to drink it until he heard footsteps behind him.

In Ramshackle, different footstep noises can mean different kinds of folk.

Loud and menacing steps mean a gangster or police.

Medium sounding steps were either scraps or some animal.

And quick clicking ones were for lootbags.

But those footsteps were familiar.

“Stone???”,That voice…was it really???…

He turned around once he heard a familiar voice and saw a grayish cloaked figure with a basket filled with baked goods and flowers adorned on it, standing behind him.

“Sora????…” The raven haired man asked to the other as he reached his hand out towards him.The other took Stone’s hand and used it to pull down his hood.

It revealed a young man with purple brownish curly hair, with a scar embedded on his left eye, looking at him with his wavering chocolate brown eyes,filled with insecurities and apologies as he locked with Stone’s own tired sage green ones that were filled with worry, relief,and a demand for an explanation.

“I know what your thinking…why did I decided to show up now??? Don’t I know there’s a murderer on the loose…don’t I know I worried you and our friends with my sudden disappearances…”

He then backed away slowly to look at his lover in the eyes…if there was only 1 good thing Shino taught him, it was to face his problems like a man.

“Yes…am aware…I am very aware of what’s happening right now…I am very sorry for being distant from you all…distant from you…I…I know I messed up and you all have the right to get mad at me for this…everything that has happened has taken a toll on my mind and I can’t even shake it off when I was staying in Rowan’s mansion…”

He then saw Stone drawing closer to him silently, his expression unreadable.

Sora panicked as he took a few steps back.

“I-I-I messed up!I-I know that now! I…I am an idiot! A-a VERY careless idiot! I just wanted sometime to clear my head of the whole situation! I-I wanted to escape everything!b-but just for a brief moment!”

The more steps he took backwards, the more closer Stone came.

“I-I see that I only just cause trouble for you all! I was so ignorant, I see that now! No amount of explanation can excuse what i did! No amount of treats or gifts of mine is enough to show that am TRULY sorry for being selfish!”

He jolted as he felt his back pressed against the wall. Sora began to tear up, preparing himself for an impact of a possible fist attack as Stone stopped at his tracks.

“O-oh! Stop being so stone, stone! Scream! Shout! Insult or punch me if you want! Just…just please! Say some-!!!”

Stone cupped Sora’s face, caressing it softly as he sighed deeply.

“Even when you ramble…your still so beautiful…”, he said, revealing a rare smiling face with black tear stains on his cheeks.

Stone then did something Sora never expected from him. Stone placed his lips gently on his.

Sora’s eyes widened in surprise, but he eventually melted into the kiss.

Once the pair broke away from the kiss, Sora softly cried as he placed both of his hands with stone’s slightly cold ones. They then embraced, fearing if they let go, the other would vanish in an instant.

“You…h-how can you not be mad at me?! I…I thought you would hate me!”, He asked as he buried his face into Stone’s shoulder.

Stone then lifted Sora’s chin gently so he could face him,“Even if I was mad, I could never hate you…your too cute to hate.”

They then rested one’s forehead on the other, both sighing tiredly with hint of euphoria.

“You care about your friends and I can tell your truly sorry because your showing afford to grow and make up to them…not everyone can do that, A’stor. And if they can’t see that, I’ll gladly set their asses on fire.”

Sora pouted, “please don’t.”

Stone shrugged, “eh, just saying, Sorbet.”

The duo giggled as they both nuzzled. Sora sighed happily as he booped his lover’s nose with his own.

Suddenly, Stone slowly untangled himself from Sora, wiping his own tears as he…got down on his knee? What was he taking out of his pocket???

“Um…Stone??? What…what are yo-”

“Sora…i…um…when I started out on the streets, I was engulfed in pain and in self-hatred…although I am grateful for skipp and vinnie, they showed me what a TRUE family should be…but i still felt like a waste of space time and again…I never once thought about romance, didn’t had a reason or time for it as I was more focused on surviving these fucking streets and keep my family of idiots safe. But, once you returned to me, I’ve never wanted more than to spend the rest of my life with you! Never have I’ve ever desired someone that much…someone who has seen me through my best and worst moment, someone who stood by my side, no matter what happens. Even after all the bullshit you endured, you never forget to smile and stay kind.People like you are rare to find…so…”

Stone than pulled out a beautiful ring with a emerald in middle, shining brightly.

Sora gasped softly as he placed both of his hands over his mouth as the tears came down even farther.

“S-stone?! Oh Dios mío…what…what are you saying?!”

“Sora Aguilar…will you stay with me???…will you…will you marry me???…”

(Sorry if stone here is outta character! It’s my first one shot!)

[licorice-and-rum]

On Fascism, DEs and Dumbledore - the actual essay lol

Hey, guys! Sorry it took me so long to write this one, I really had some themes to mature before I could put all of my thoughts in writing but I finally feel like I’m ready to talk about what I want to. Before I begin, however, I want to point out a few things:

First of all, I ask all of you to enter this with an open mind because not everything I’ll say here is exactly popular opinion in the HP fandom. And, although I recognize that my perceptions and interpretations are frayed by my own background and way of thinking, my literary analysis is still based off, on some level, of academical knowledge. It doesn’t make it true, of course, but I believe it’s a solid base to have.

Second, this is, in no way, an attack on people who like the Death Eaters (Barty, Regulus, Rosier, Draco, and so on). These people are not the problem I’m talking about here because, to begin with, the characters they like are not exactly the Canon version of them, and then, because a work of fiction doesn’t determine a person’s character.

It's completely normal for popular works of fiction — and that’s especially true in Literature — to have their characters remodeled to fit a better narrative to the time they are inserted in. It happens with Fairytales, it happens with classical books — Sherlock Holmes is one of the greatest examples I can give —, it just happens. And the new interpretations are an attempt to almost self-insert: is a mirroring of our interpretations and experiences in those characters we like so much.

That said, I still have a problem with how normalized it has become in our society to make a sad backstory to fascist-like villains and that’s where I would like to start this rant/analysis. This issue is not focused on the Harry Potter characters, however: it has happened in Star Wars (both with Anakin and more recently with The Acolyte), in The Hunger Games (with Snow, although it wasn’t the intention) and many other big films/books/series in the industry.

It has a reason: we’re living through late-stage capitalism, which means capitalism is in shambles and it needs a “emergency button” of sorts, something it can use to establish some kind of control back. That’s why we’ve seen so many far-right parties win elections lately: it’s a normal thing for people to be attracted to fast and simple solutions when things are bad, even though they might not be solutions at all.

Anyway, I digress: the point is, when fascism (capitalism’s emergency button) arises, it needs to have a cultural support so that people can assimilate it better, accept it better so it can maintain itself. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not, by all means, saying that a bunch of men sat down on a white room and decided that now they would start creating Art that endorses/romanticizes fascist narratives, of course not.

This is a natural process, it happens because we, as a general rule, already lean into right wing theorical thinking by living into a capitalist mode of production. So, when capitalism collapses, many of us pull our values farthest into capitalistic mindset because that’s what we understand as secure, as stable. And this translates into art through some favored tropes or classical narratives, such as the Chosen One or the “the system is not corrupted, the people running it are” narrative.

Both of those tropes fit into the Harry Potter series in obvious ways, of course. But lately, I’ve been noticing a really particular characteristic of these narratives/tropes that are used to endorse fascism, which I believe has to do with the time period we’re at right now and who the target-audience is, and that is what I called the “individualization of narratives”.

I’m not gonna be arrogant here and say that I’m the only one who noticed this, of course not, but I haven’t found any works on that, so I’m gonna describe, in my own words, what I think this phenomenon is:

The individualization of narratives, as I call it, refers to the details some characters’ backgrounds have when they are into the “dark side”, the side that is supposed to be the fictional version of fascist-like groups. And those details — or lack thereof — are done in a way the reader can fill in the gaps in such a way to identify and empathize with them.

Again, that’s is not the problem, this happens to every character ever, it even happens with celebrities. Our brains are wired to fill in gaps in a person’s personality or character when we don’t have all the information, it’s a natural reaction. Problem is that, as it’s becoming popular to write a villain with a purpose, a “morally gray” character if you will (although I take issue with how that’s portrayed, which I’ll treat more carefully when I talk about Dumbledore), the fascist-like narratives that became so popular with post-war people, gain a new meaning.

That’s not the doing of the Art itself, it’s just a reflection of political issues that are already here but that are also perpetrated and continued by Art and material cultural production, just like anti-socialism dystopian books were in the Cold War scenario, for example. However, it’s undeniable that this movement serves a purpose, a political purpose, and that is to endorse fascism and fascist narrative. Let’s not get over ourselves here: again, this is not the evil doing of some unknown entity, it’s just a natural process of the current political climate reflecting in cultural production.

But it still serves a purpose, and what I aim to do with this essay is to demystify a bit this movement in Harry Potter. But first, we have to understand what fascism is:

Capitalism, which begun more or less in the 1600s, is a mode of production (a mold to which our society fit to work within capitalism’s needs of existence). It is based on profit, which means our society is shaped to produce that profit, everything in a society is shaped to serve this purpose, from the industry to our perception of reality — it’s all a capitalism-based ideology.

Again, reminding: that’s not a secret plot to convince people, it’s a natural process of building identity within reality. It happened in feudalism, and before that with Ancient Empires, and so on and on. There’s nothing inheritedly evil in this process.

However, capitalism is a mode of production that demands, in order to continuing to exist, more than society can provide, so it collapses from time to time. The Stock Market Crash of 1929 and the following Great Depression is one of the most striking examples of capitalism collapsing, and it’s not by happenstance that fascism arose right after this collapse.

As I said before, fascism is capitalism’s emergency button: when systems collapse, that’s where they get more vulnerable to radical change, and the extreme hardships the masses had to endure after its collapse in the 1930s could easily signify a chance for a change in the modes of production throughout the occidental countries of Europe — something that couldn’t happen if capitalism was to survive.

What I mean by bringing all this to the essay is that I want to be very clear with what fascism defends and what it means: it’s the supremacy of not only a country, or exaggerated nationalism, it is also the management and upkeeping of a society’s very structure. And, to be even clearer: that society is white, rich, and patriarchal-based.

There’s a reason why fascism is considered a white-supremacy political movement: because it defends capitalism. And capitalism was built over the need of cheap work force.

Many of you may have thought slavery when I said that, and you’d be correct.

However, with the times progression, that changed into a new form of exploration: because of the past with slavery and exploration of resources of colonized countries, it became easier — and also a natural progression from the dehumanizing of non-white communities to justify slavery — to just cheapen the work force by making non-white communities poorer, more vulnerable and more desperate to fulfill their needs.

That forces those communities — and third world countries as a whole — to accept the money and the exploration of not only first-world countries (colonizer countries) but also big corporations. I could go on and on about all the effects this policy has in non-white communities, from police brutality until the banalization of the violence in large scale (such as the Palestinian genocide) but I want to stay within the scope here.

This justification of slavery, the dehumanization of non-white peoples, is one of the main pillars of capitalism, and as such, it’s the main pillar of fascism. In Harry Potter, the intention is that those characteristics don’t present themselves in race but in blood — not that Rowling is very successful with this, considering the amount of veiled and not-so-veiled racism in her books but whatever.

Now, as I see it, Harry Potter is not a good portrayal of fascism and that has a very clear cause: Rowling’s lack of understanding of what fascism is to begin with, or how the root causes of it affect the system of the wizarding society.

As someone who have studied it, I can say that the blood purity issue wouldn’t be present only in some rich people’s minds, it would be structural to the wizarding world, in a way that would present itself in hardship for muggleborns to get jobs, in jokes that are not funny, in opinions that are degrading, in isolation and discrimination in a day to day level. And of course, there is some of it in the HP books, but it’s not treated as a structural issue — it’s treated as an individual problem.

And that’s where the real problem begins: if we treat fascism as a problem that stems from a person’s own choices instead of a political and collective movement that elevates to a highest level the structural issues that are already there, we fall into the trap of minimizing the problem because, if someone is a fascist because they’re evil, the next question to make is: why are they evil?

Currently, what we’re doing with our villains becomes a problem in these situations: in an attempt to individualize our villains, we make them human. Human in the sense that we can empathize with them, we can understand them. And, for a fascist-like narrative, that’s extremely dangerous because it makes us unconsciously start to endorse their trajectories and choices when we absolutely shouldn’t.

Fascism is not equivalent to rebelliousness.

“Oh, the good side is not so good because they treated this character bad and now he had to turn to a fascist group and decimate people because he’s traumatized.”

See how, when I say it like that, it sounds ridiculous?

But of course, you probably know that. Again, I’m not accusing people who like those characters of endorsing fascism, what I am saying, however, is that the political climate of today is doing it and it’s reflecting on our art production. What I am calling for is for people to recognize that their view of those characters as they really would be if they were anywhere near reality is not only flawed, it’s entirely wrong.

Snape, Barty Crouch Jr, Evan Rosier, Draco, Bellatrix, the Blacks as a whole — they are not the abused little teenagers who had no choice but to join the Death Eaters. They are fascists, they have always been fascists, even when they suffered. And sure, to some of them, there is more to their characters than this but the truth remains that they, in some capacity, not only endorsed a fascist narrative, they actively perpetuated it to the detriment and the suffering of marginalized peoples.

And none of them had a good, believable, and more importantly, complete redeeming arc.

Our interpretations of them are cool, I love it, I prefer them to many HP characters, to be honest. But that doesn’t change the fact that, if HP was a little bit more real, a little bit closer to reality, those characters wouldn’t be bullied teenagers forced into fascism as a means to become powerful enough to escape their abuse — as if that makes it so much better —, they’d be incels, they’d be bullies themselves.

And that’s not an opinion: we, as a fandom, tend to forget that the DEs are the ones with real societal power in the wizarding world. Most of them are purebloods, most of them are rich, most of them are friends with rich and pureblooded wizards, and they are privileged. They are not ostracized as we like to imagine, they are royalty.

For them, to fight for blood purity is to fight for their own benefit, is to fight to maintain the pillars that keep them unaccountable for their behaviors and privilege whilst at the same time, pushing marginalized people — muggleborns, fantastical creatures, even half-bloods — to a dehumanizing condition. And they don’t feel sorry for this.

Now, the truth is that this is partially Rowling’s fault: her lack of understanding of how deep the issues she’s portraying really run makes it possible for her to interpret her own characters as redeemable because they somehow exchange sides when it fits them.

That’s mostly seen with the Malfoys: neither Draco, Narcissa, nor Lucius ever change sides because they see the suffering of others and think of it as wrong. They change sides when Voldemort’s cruelty starts to weigh on them — their change of loyalties are not coming from empathy for marginalized peoples or decency, it comes from self-preservation.

Kind of the same thing with Snape (I wrote some essays focused on Snape, so if anyone is interested, here’s the first, then the second).

Now, of course, that’s not to say those characters weren’t abused on someway or suffered but that’s the thing: no abuse in the world justifies the persecution, torture and killing of innocent people. To offer a counterpoint, the marginalized peoples the Death Eaters persecuted are also traumatized in some, they also can have had abusive parents and/or families but that is not taken into account when we talk about the Death Eater’s own traumas.

The narrative that the Death Eaters were abused their whole childhoods is so strong today in fandom that most people don’t stop to think that those teenagers probably were horrible people. Yes, maybe horrible because some of them were abused, I’m not denying that, but still horrible, which means they wouldn’t accept help. To hold them responsible for their own doings and their own privileges would seem for them as a persecution against them — just like fascist-like narratives often portray pro-LGBTQ+ or non-white policies and/or narratives.

It is also one of the reasons I take issue with the Slytherin portrayal of abused kids ostracized by the rest of the school. It’s really just isolating fascist narrative and only partially based on truth but I don’t think I want to stretch this conversation now (I can write more about it later if you want though).

So no, respectfully, I refuse to accept that those people — mostly men and rich people, I am forced to point out — would be anything but disgusting, and that’s where I take issue with some behaviors within the HP fandom. Because we’re being influenced by almost two decades of fan fiction and the current political climate, it’s very often that I find people who are sincerely incapable of dissociating fandom to canon.

Hence, the actually infuriating villainization of Albus Dumbledore.

Now, that’s a topic that makes me impatient AF. Not only because it is based on a strong fetishization of who Dumbledore really was, and what he could and couldn’t do, but also because it is a clear example of most people’s inability to differentiate between what they’re reading for fun and what they are internalizing from that media.

Let’s begin with that: Dumbledore is not some evil mastermind, and he is not equivalent to Voldemort. He is a flawed character, that’s true, but he is not a villain. And to think so is to play into the narrative that, because the “good side” fails, or makes wrong decisions, or even actively makes bad decisions, or immoral decisions in times of war, that is somehow equivalent to the “bad side”.

It is not.

That narrative is the same narrative that allows Israel to build an equivalence between Hamas’ violent acts and their own when in truth, as reproachable as some Hamas’ decisions may be according to various perspectives, their violence is a reaction to heavy and even more violent oppression.

What I mean is, even if Dumbledore failed in some of his decision-making in the Harry Potter books, even if we may believe we could do better, Dumbledore is a true morally gray character. But first, to make the point I want to make, we have to understand him:

For this, I will first separate his two identities as they appear throughout Harry Potter: as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Dumbledore plays a role as a leader and role model, but he is also a person with flaws and mistakes like anyone else. These are the two main “faces” of Albus Dumbledore for this defense post, so now let's analyze them more closely:

The first "face" we see of Dumbledore is that of the leader, and this is primarily because of Harry who, at eleven years old, sees Dumbledore as the kind of man he would like to emulate. This also happens with many other wizards throughout the story: it's clear to anyone that most of the people within Harry’s personal circle like and admire Dumbledore, while those who despise him are often the “bad” characters (Lucius Malfoy is probably one of the earliest examples of this).

Although that doesn’t mean they are somehow starstruck by the headmaster: Sirius, Snape, the Weasley parents, Moody, even James and Lily, they all question Dumbledore and his decision making at some point in the books. They end up following through more times than not, that’s true, but trust in someone is different than blind-faith. Those characters accept Dumbledore’s leadership because they trust him, not because they think he’s some type of a god.

However, we see things through Harry’s point of view, and Harry is a child who has no parents, no model figures, no one who really supports that role to him until his eleventh year. It's easy, then, to see how the leader face Dumbledore presents is one of someone the characters (and readers) can trust not to fail, and even easier to view him as someone with great power. This is the fandom’s biggest mistake in viewing him.

Shall we now remember a bit of Dumbledore’s history and delve into his personal side?

As a young man, he met Grindelwald and, according to J.K. Rowling, fell in love with him, as well as with his goal of seeking the Deathly Hallows and becoming the most powerful wizards of all time. 

In the last Harry Potter book, in the King's Cross chapter, Dumbledore himself confesses to Harry how the desire for power blinded him to what was truly important, how power was his greatest weakness, and therefore what made him unworthy of it. This is why Dumbledore remained as the headmaster of Hogwarts when he could have so easily become more important in the wizarding community (besides, of course, his love for the students): to keep himself away from power.

Here's the quote (It might be a bit different in the original, considering I’m translating it from Portuguese):

“‘I was gifted, I was brilliant. I wanted to escape. I wanted to shine. I wanted glory... Invincible Masters of Death, Grindelwald and Dumbledore!... The years passed. There were rumors about him. They said he had obtained a wand of immense power. Meanwhile, I was offered the position of Minister for Magic, not once, but several times. Naturally, I refused. I learned that I could not be trusted with power.’

‘But you'd have been better than Fudge or Scrimgeour!’ said Harry.

‘Would I?’ asked Dumbledore heavily. ‘I am not so sure. I proved as a very young man that power was my weakness and my temptation. It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.’”

This is what the fandom most fails to understand: the admiration of wizards for Dumbledore makes him influential, but not powerful, and this becomes especially clear during the end of The Goblet of Fire and throughout The Order of the Phoenix.

One of the first signs of this in the fourth book is when Fudge refuses to believe Dumbledore about Voldemort’s return: let's remember that, until that point, Fudge sought Dumbledore’s advice for his decisions as Minister of Magic precisely because the headmaster had the respect of much of the wizarding population. But when Fudge, who has the actual power, puts his foot down and says that Dumbledore no longer has influence over the Ministry’s choices, Dumbledore lacks the power to deny it, to stop it.

If he did, it would be safe to say that he would have used his power over the Ministry to convince everyone that Voldemort had indeed returned, and more, to mobilize the Ministry against Voldemort. But none of this happens simply because Dumbledore does not have that power.

Thus, it becomes easier to differentiate power from influence.

It’s Fudge’s power that causes the Ministry as an organization and the wizarding media to turn against the Headmaster, and Dumbledore doesn’t have the power to stop it, but he has enough influence to still be heard by part of the wizarding population. It’s Fudge’s power that leads to Harry’s expulsion from Hogwarts at the beginning of Order of the Phoenix, but it’s Dumbledore’s influence that convinces the Ministry to agree to a trial, and it’s his influence that moves the people present to listen to his defense of Harry during that trial. If Dumbledore had power over these events, Harry wouldn’t even have had a trial — something the Headmaster categorically calls an absurdity.

Therefore, Dumbledore doesn’t have power; he has influence, and there’s a difference between what he can actually do and what the fandom seems to believe he can do. Dumbledore has no power over the Ministry; he can’t boss anyone around except, perhaps, the Hogwarts staff and the Order of the Phoenix, a group whose members agreed to make him leader.

What he really has are people willing to listen to his advice and thoughts, as well as inclined to follow him, but that doesn’t mean they’ll necessarily do everything Dumbledore says (Sirius, anyone?).

It’s important to separate these two concepts for this analysis to continue because it will make Dumbledore’s actions make much more sense in this discussion. That said, let’s now begin to analyze “The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore”:

The main criticisms I see regarding Dumbledore revolve around Harry’s life and the decisions the Headmaster made concerning him.

Before I begin, however, I want to point out that, despite Dumbledore’s flaws, he is still a leader (just like Harry), and as a leader, he bears responsibility for the lives of the people he has chosen to protect (just like Harry). It’s important to keep this in mind so that I can highlight a few things later.

So, let’s start with when the prophecy is heard and Voldemort begins hunting Harry instead of Neville. It’s important to emphasize here that, once a prophecy is made in the Harry Potter universe and the people the prophecy is about start acting according it, it’s going to happen; there’s no way around it, or at least that’s what we’re told as canon. That’s why, as soon as the prophecy is made and Voldemort actively choses to hunt them down, everyone knows that Harry (or Neville) will be the one to face Voldemort, and one of them will die — hopefully Voldemort.

Although he’s the one to whom the prophecy was made, Dumbledore has no control over it: there’s no way to avoid the fact that Harry (or Neville) would face Voldemort at some point in their lives once Snape overhears it and tells Voldemort. All he — and everyone else — can do is give the Chosen One the tools and knowledge necessary to face Voldemort with the best possible chance of winning — which he does later on by becoming Harry’s primary mentor.

Then the Potters are “chosen” and go into hiding in Godric’s Hollow, making Peter the Secret Keeper. Some more information on this choice: Dumbledore offered to be the Secret Keeper, but James and Lily refused and preferred to choose Sirius. However, they switched to Peter without telling anyone, not even Dumbledore. This is another thing I see the fandom complaining about a lot, but it’s explicitly canon that no one besides Sirius, James, Lily, and Peter knew about the switch.

This wasn’t because they didn’t trust Dumbledore, but because Albus was in the middle of the storm as one of Voldemort’s biggest targets. The Potters didn’t reject Dumbledore as their Secret Keeper because they didn’t trust him (they wouldn’t even be in the Order if that were the case, don’t you think?), but because they were thinking primarily of Harry’s safety, and placing their family’s safety in the hands of the second biggest target of Voldemort in that war simply doesn’t seem like a wise move.

So, there’s no reason, even up to the third book, for Dumbledore to suspect that Sirius is innocent and try to intervene to get him some kind of trial or chance to explain himself. There’s no indication that Dumbledore had contact with Sirius before he was sent to Azkaban, so how could the Headmaster be blamed for that?

Again, it’s important to emphasize that Dumbledore has influence.

Even if he wanted Sirius to have a trial, there’s no evidence that he could make it happen, since everything pointed to Sirius as the culprit — remembering that there’s a big difference between a trial for underage magic and the murder of thirteen Muggles, plus the whole Secret Keeper and high-profile situation. In fact, it’s also good to remember that as soon as Dumbledore learns the truth, he does everything in his power — even sending Harry and Hermione back in time — to save Sirius from being kissed by the Dementors.

But going back a bit, a week after Peter becomes the Secret Keeper, he reveals the Potters’ location to Voldemort, and on Halloween night in 1981, Voldemort goes to Godric’s Hollow and kills James, then Lily, then tries to kill Harry but fails.

This event needs to be broken down into two parts. The first is about Lily’s protection: when she chooses to die even though Voldemort gave her a chance to live, Lily protects Harry, and that’s the reason he survives that encounter with the Dark Lord, who also “dies.”

Since the fourth book, there’s a very specific characteristic of this protection that’s seen many times but never explicitly stated, which is the fact that Lily’s protection has a blood-related nature. In other words, Lily’s protection is especially tied to blood, which is why Voldemort chose Harry’s blood to resurrect himself: because in that way, he also “has” Lily’s blood and, consequently, her protection, which frees him to harm Harry in a way he couldn’t before.

And this is the point I want to reach: Dumbledore chooses the Dursleys to raise Harry not because he wants him to suffer, but because Petunia is the only one who carries Lily’s blood and, therefore, the only one who can ensure that Lily’s protection — the thing for which her sister died — continues to work. The blood Petunia shares with Lily even prevents Voldemort, even after the resurrection ritual, because her blood makes Lily’s protection even stronger.

And it’s good to remember that this measure ends up saving Harry in The Philosopher’s Stone — Quirrell and Voldemort couldn’t touch him because of Lily’s protection, guaranteed by his living in the same house as Petunia — and keeps him safe in the Dursleys’ house for sixteen years, until Harry turns seventeen and the protection finally stops working, even though he still lived with Petunia.

Once again, people overestimate Dumbledore’s ability to act: he had no control over the nature of Lily’s protection; he acted to keep Harry as safe as possible within what he could actually control.

Unfortunately, the choices presented in that situation were either to leave him protected from Voldemort’s assassination attempts or spare him the suffering of growing up with the Dursleys.

Neither choice was ideal, but this is where Dumbledore’s leadership character comes in: Harry’s responsibility to face Voldemort was no longer a choice, even though he was only a year old, because of the prophecy. So, it makes much more sense for him to protect Harry from the greater threat (Voldemort) while ensuring that Harry would have more time to develop and grow before having to face him again.

Dumbledore didn’t make the choice to give Harry to the Dursleys joyfully, wanting him to suffer, but thinking about giving him more time and more opportunities to be a child than he would have had if Lily’s protection weren’t ensured. Obviously, this doesn’t work out very well because the Dursleys are especially cruel to Harry in a way that Dumbledore hadn’t really foreseen, something he himself admits in The Half-Blood Prince:

“‘[...] Harry, whom Lord Voldemort has already tried to kill on several occasions, is in much more danger than on the day I left him on your doorstep, fifteen years ago, with a letter explaining that his parents had been murdered and expressing the hope that you would care for him as a son.’

Dumbledore paused, and although his voice remained light and calm, and did not betray his anger, Harry felt a certain coldness emanating from him. He also noticed that the Dursleys huddled together almost imperceptibly.

‘You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Harry as a son. In your care, he has only known neglect and often cruelty...’”

But it’s important to note that Dumbledore didn’t have good options regarding Harry’s custody; he didn’t have the power to change how Lily’s protection worked; he was working with what he had, which wasn’t much.

The second part of this event focuses more on Voldemort and Harry and is probably the most controversial regarding Dumbledore: the creation of the Horcrux inside Harry and how this is somehow seen as Dumbledore’s fault — hence the famous phrase about being “raised like a pig for slaughter,” but... let’s be honest? What, exactly, could Dumbledore have done against the fact that Harry became a Horcrux?

Once again, here’s the exaggerated view of Dumbledore’s power that the fandom seems to have: he had no control over what happened to the Potters in Godric’s Hollow on Halloween night in 1981. He had no power over Lily’s protection or the Horcrux in Harry. He has no power over Lily’s protection, nor over the Horcrux in Harry. The only thing he has the power to do is to act in a way that ensures his plan guarantees Voldemort’s ultimate defeat and thus saves the entire wizarding world.

I hate it when people say Dumbledore “raised Harry like a pig for slaughter” simply because he knew that Harry would have to die for the Horcrux to be destroyed, as if he had any other option in the matter. Harry’s fate was sealed as soon as Lily’s protection saved him and a part of Voldemort’s soul entered him; Dumbledore bears no responsibility for what happened that night.

So what Dumbledore can do regarding Harry having to die is exactly… nothing. He literally has no power to change this fact, no matter how much he wants to — and he does, because he loves Harry, as he himself says in Order of the Phoenix. But Dumbledore is still a leader, and he still needs to think about the best plan of action to ensure that people continue to have hope and that they can truly see that hope — of being free from Voldemort and his reign of terror — come true. And if that meant Harry had to die to destroy the Horcrux, then that was it. Period.

But it’s also important to point out that Dumbledore didn’t force Harry into anything: by the time Harry receives the information that he needs to die to ensure the salvation of everyone and Voldemort’s mortality, all the people who know this — Dumbledore and Snape, in this case — are dead and unable to do anything if Harry decided to simply run away and leave everyone to fend for themselves because he didn’t want to die.

But, as I pointed out before, Harry is a leader. And he fully accepts the responsibility of this role the moment he decides to face death: he goes to Voldemort willing to die by his own choice, wanting to save those who matter to him, those who trust him to end Voldemort. Not because Dumbledore ordered him, but because he — Harry — is a leader, and a leader sacrifices himself for his cause when necessary.

Saying that Dumbledore was the “cause” of Harry’s death, besides being wrong, also takes away from the greatness of Harry’s choice in that situation. Harry is the protagonist of his own story, and he is always making decisions based on his own mind and beliefs (going after the Philosopher’s Stone, entering the Chamber of Secrets, sparing Pettigrew, going after Sirius in the Department of Mysteries, pursuing the Horcruxes, etc.), so it’s completely unfair for people to place the responsibility for his choice to die on Dumbledore’s shoulders just because the Headmaster gave him the information that Harry was a Horcrux. Harry always acted according to his own mind based on the information he had been given — why would it be any different with the Horcrux inside him?

It simply wouldn’t be. Dumbledore gave the information, but it was Harry who decided what to do with it.

Furthermore, it’s worth noting that Dumbledore didn’t tell Harry about having to die to destroy the Horcrux inside him earlier because (a) Harry was a child, and (b) Dumbledore didn’t want to take away Harry’s hope. Additionally, after the fourth book, there was still the possibility that Harry could survive because, by performing the resurrection ritual, Voldemort intertwined his life with Harry’s, thus giving Harry a chance not to die when allowing the Horcrux to be destroyed. So why would Dumbledore tell a teenager that he would have to die at some point in the future… if there was a chance Harry might come back? It seems (to me, at least) like an unnecessary cruelty to place that burden on someone for so long.

So the biggest issue I see with the fandom in relation to Dumbledore is the belief that he had power over things that were completely beyond his reach. Dumbledore was a leader doing the best he could with what he had, within the limitations presented to him and his own experience.

Moreover, it’s admirable that Dumbledore had such a dark and flawed past and acknowledged each of his mistakes, always acting to ensure that he wouldn’t repeat them. It was the events of his adolescence that led him to always remember to value what truly mattered: love and people. He grew through his own pain, through the consequences of his own mistakes; he never forgot or repressed what happened to Ariana — which would certainly have been much easier — but instead, he used that painful event to become a better person.

That’s a morally gray character, that’s someone who had been stuck between a rock and a hard place and did what he thought was best, that’s a character who did the best he could with what he was given. And I really don’t like how fascist-like characters are more often than not considered more complex because of trauma than characters like Dumbledore.

But I guess that’s a bit because we can actually empathize with them better by being convinced that they didn’t have a choice, or that they were somehow forced into those choices even if they really didn’t want to and that might be the case, but to be honest, after seeing what fascist narratives do to marginalized people, I can’t say I care much about it. Anyway, be my guest to comment on my analysis but please be kind, I won’t engage in rage baits nor Zionists, Free Palestine loves <3

[chicaotaku-fanfics]

There's Three of You?! Pt. 13

Please don't kill me! This took longer than expected, I'll be the first one to admit it, but it is finally here! The 3/3 chapter of the Mistaken (Chicago Med 1x04) mini arc is finally here!

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: foul language, might be some medical inconsistencies.

CHAPTER 13

Connor and I had emptied the room sometime later and made our way to the elevator to go and wait outside Miss Goodwin’s office, to see if we could at least save a kid’s life today. Even a few seconds before the door opened, Connor was already on his feet, and as soon as it did opened I stood up.

Miss Goodwin’s expression wasn’t good at all.

“Can I at least talk to him?” asked Connor

“No, you cannot.” she said.

“There has got to be something we can do.” I said.

“And we've done it. Let it go, Dr. Rhodes. You too Dr. Halstead.” she said, looking at us pointedly.

Unexpectedly, the door open, and we all turned to see Mr. Simms coming out. He handed Goodwin the forms and just left.

“He signed them.” Miss Goodwin said, noticing the signature on the papers, Connor started making his way to the elevator.

“Good luck!” I exclaimed, he turned to me and nodded. I turned to my boss again. “Thank you Miss Goodwin… I’ll go see if Mr. Simms needs anything.” I said, going after the grieving man.

I managed to catch up to Mr. Simps, so I decided to talk to him about Max.

“Mr. Simms, how are you doing? How’s Max? I haven’t seen him since this morning, when we played at the kid’s lounge in the waiting room.” I said, announcing my presence to the blond man.

“You… you’re the doctor that took care of Max while I was coming here?” he asked.

“Yeah, I am. Dr. Lillian Halstead.” I said, offering my hand for him to shake, he did.

“Bill Simms. Uh, oh, my mother came for Max shortly after we reunited… didn’t want him to be exposed to this circus.” he said, I nodded.

“I understand. And I’m also very sorry for your loss Mr. Simms.” I said, he sighed, walking until he reached one of the windows, he stared at the view of the city.

“Lucy and I met at a Cub's game.” Mr. Simms said, I made sure to listen to him intently. He then let out a short mirthless laugh. “I heard this--this crazy laughter coming from, like, five rows behind me and… it just– it just reached out and grabbed me.” he continued. I could only listen to him. “I'd look at her, and it would just make me happy, and then, this afternoon, just watching the life get stomped out of her… you know, his site has gotten more hits in the last hour than it's every had before, I mean– it's disgusting, it's all disgusting.” he said, I just looked down.

“Like I said Mr. Simms, I understand… but you’re also going through one of the most traumatic days of your life.” I said to him, he was about to say something, but I raised my hand for him to let me finish. “I’m not invalidating your feelings, or even suggesting that anything that what happened today was fair. I’m trying to paint the bigger picture here: you’re grieving, that’s normal. And you’ve also just donated your wife’s liver to the guy responsible for her passing… that takes a level of maturity not many achieve.” I continued, he finally interrupted me.

“LUCY DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE, HE DOES!” he exclaimed, I just placed my hand on his shoulder to calm him dowm.

“I understand your pain… but you just saved a kid’s life, and by doing that, you’re giving him the chance to turn his life around.” I said to him.

He finally broke down sobbing, I hold him so he didn’t hit the ground. I maneuvered us to one of the rows of chairs so he could sit down, from my coat pocket I pulled out a packet of tissues and offered one to him. He took it and dried his tears, then he looked at me and said something that really left me thinking.

“Max told me about how you took care of him when he and Lucy first arrived. How you asked to look after him, took him to the play area, even played with other kids and talked to them about being a doctor.” he made a pause, blowed his nose and continued. “He says he wants to be a doctor when he grows up… all thanks to you.” he then turned to look into my eyes. “You’ll make a great mother someday Dr. Halstead. Thank you for taking care of my son.” he then hugged me. I hugged back.

Just then, my pager went off, it was Connor, Peter was just out of surgery, he had pulled through just fine.

“Sorry Mr. Simms, I have to go, my other patient just pulled through out of surgery, I gotta go check on him.” I said, he looked at me.

“It’s him right? The prankster?” he asked, I just nodded. “I wanna go see him.” he said, I wasn’t convinced, but he pleaded. “I just wanna say something to him.” he managed to persuade me. So I took him with me towards the elevator and to the ICU floor.

We made it there, and Connor looked at me in question.

“Mr. Simms wanted to say something to Peter.” I answered the unasked question.

Connor nodded, and the three of us went into the room.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wallace? This is Bill Simms. It was his wife–” started Connor.

“Lucy. Her name was Lucy.” he said, not looking at the parents.

“It was Lucy's liver that was transplanted into Peter.” I added.

“Thank you for saving our son.” said Mrs. Wallace

“What you've done for our family–” Peter’s dad started to talk, but Mr. Simms interrupted him.

“I didn't do it for your family.” Mr. Simms said, he made a pause to sniffle, but the continued. “I did it for mine.” he made another pause. “Death isn't justice. Can he hear me?” he asked Connor, pointing at Peter.

“Yes, he can.” my friend answered.

“My wife– my wife died because of you. And now she keeps you alive… And that's gonna haunt you for the rest of your life.” he said, his expression somber.

Oh no

“Mr. Simms, please.” I said, trying to stop him.

“No, no, no, I can't– Look, you wanted a following, right? Kids today, everyone wants a following. I'm gonna give you a following every day on every social media site for the rest of your life. I'm gonna be there to remind the world of what you did!” he started raising his voice by the end of his last sentence, becoming more erratic by the second. Connor and I stepped in between him and Peter’s bed.

“You will never be able to go anywhere or do anything without people knowing who you are!” Mr. Simms exclaimed against Connor who was pushing him out of the room. I just stood there, my back facing the kid, one of my arms extended to protect him.

“You will never be able to hide!” was the last thing we heard from Bill Simms as Connor managed to get him out of the room.

I turn towards the terrified teen and distraught family.

“I’m so sorry about that.” I said to the three of them, then turned my attention to the kid. “You gotta understand Peter, actions have consequences… you did something dumb today, and someone payed the price.” I made a pause, he looked at me, as well as the parents. “I’m not gonna scold you, everyone makes mistakes… I just hope that today helps you to think before acting next time.” I smiled at him. “Because, and I mean this in the best way possible, I don’t want to see you around here ever again. So take good care of yourself, hear me?” I asked him, he nodded the best he could.

I nodded at the parents who nodded back and I just left the room. I went to the elevators and made my way to the ED floor, just as Miss Goodwin was leaving Connor’s side.

“Hey.” I said to him, he just nodded to acknowledge my presence. “Come on, if we don’t hurry, Will and Jay will make a mess of my apartment.” I said, he snorted.

“Somehow I doubt that.” he said.

“Oh believe me, they could. But they know I’d kick their asses if they did, so, for thier sake, they don’t.” I said, that did get a laugh out of my friend.

“Oh, I’d bet you win.” he said.

“Like hell I will! They may be older, but I’m smarter.” I said, while we made our way to the doctors lounge.

[medusapelagia]

8 AU-gust: Robots and Androids- part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 [...]

This is not the right day to post, but I need to cheer myself up so I'm going to post something anyway!

Hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Android Steve Harrington, Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson, mention of terroristic attack Words: 2179

Joyce keeps looking at his vitals and then she says “He seems quite special.”

“Who?”

“Stevie.”

“He’s just a piece of junk. Like all the androids.”

“He is not. And I think you noticed too.”

“He has a fucking code and he follows it.”

“He has more than just a code. He makes decisions, he shows emotions. He is really special. Our engineer is already in love with him.”

That he can believe.

The android is the most beautiful boy he has ever seen and he doesn’t understand why they were discontinued or why they were used in fights and not as human companions, but that’s not his problem.

His problem is finding a way to escape. And a way to fly far away from that stupid planet.

“When can I leave?”

“We have no ship to spare if that’s what you are thinking and I will not let them come here to rescue you.”

Them.

So he was right. She joined the resistance and then decided to leave.

Coward.

“You have a very expressive face, Eddie. Do you know that? I see that you are making conjectures about me,  but I’m not going to be judged by a boy who knows nothing about real life.”

How could she say that he knows nothing about real life? He? With his past? Fuck you, lady doctor!

“You know nothing about me! Why are you making assumptions about my life?”

“Because that’s exactly what you are doing about mine.”

A metallic sound stops their conversation, and Stevie enters the infirmary with a big man almost ready to faint.

“Jim! I told you not to go! What the fuck! I should slap you in the face, and don’t think I’ll not do it as soon as you feel better!” she scolds him, helping him sit on a chair and giving him some water.

“I shield him from the sun as much as I can, but the temperatures are prohibitive on this planet.” He pauses, helping the man “You should think about moving to a more suitable environment.”

“We fucking know. That’s why we wore a thermal suit when we got outside. But it wasn’t enough.” The man replies angrily and it definitely wasn’t enough. The man is covered in sweat, his face is red and tired. 

“What about you, metal boy? Doc here told me you were broken but it seems to me that you are quite functioning.”

“I’m not broken.” That's all that he says, but Eddie sees that on his back he has some metal plates missing and others that do not match.

“Glad to see that you are getting better.” The android says studying him “Your water levels are almost back to normal. A few days and you’ll be ready to travel.”

“I’m not looking forward to the idea of traveling with you, metal boy. Sorry.”

The android nods “I know.”

Eddie looks at the android. He has no fucking emotion. How can they say that he has some?

He is a stupid robot. Nothing more.

“He saved your life. At least two times. You could be more grateful.” Joyce scolds him and both Eddie and S.T.E.V.E. reply at the same time.

“It’s in my code.”

“It’s in his code.”

They look at each other.

When he was young and he happened to say something at the same time as Wayne, they usually pinch each other.

Why the fuck is he thinking about that now?

“I don’t see the point. He saved my life just to bring me back to the Central station where they will sentence me to death.”

“You don’t know that.” The android replies.

“Oh, I know that. You don’t put a price on someone’s head just to invite them to dinner. And you said to these people that I’m a murderer, so you don’t think that they are going to slap me on the wrist either.”

The android stays in silence, his brown eyes looking back at him.

“Did you get other damages?” he suddenly asks.

“I’m fine. The boy put some metal plates on my back so I should be ok. The ship is in far worse condition than I am but I think I can repair it enough to get us to the next planet and call for help.”

“Why call for help from another planet?” Eddie asks, confused.

The android turns toward him and for a moment Eddie can see something behind his plastic eyes “Because they don’t want people on their land. I understand that. And they were kind enough to take care of both of us. The only thing that I can do to thank them for their kindness it’s not to bring them other problems. Don’t you agree?”

And it makes sense.

It makes fucking sense.

But he is an android. He is just using logic. Not feelings. He has no feelings.

Joyce is looking at Eddie with a knowing look.

“I told you.”

The android turns toward her “What did you tell him?”

“That you are special Stevie.”

“I’m just one of the few models left. That doesn’t mean that I’m special. Your kid is special. Thirteen years old and have a complete understanding of mechanics and robotics. You must be very proud.”

“Oh, Dustin is not my son, but we love him as if he were.”

“Is he… an orphan?” Eddie asks with a lump in his throat. God, it doesn’t matter how long has passed, that word still burns in his heart.

“No, he is not. Claudia, his mom, is staying at the other outpost these days. She is trying to make it rain.” Both Eddie and the android look at her “I know, it sounds crazy, but her husband and her are working on a system to bring the clouds together even without winds. And it’s working. The only problem is that we still can’t send them where they are needed the most. But I’m sure they will come up with something.” She smiles, looking at the man on the chair “Are you feeling any better?”

After some water and back to the freshness of the infirmary he looks so much better.

“I do.” He replies “I brought the radio back but I don’t think that even Dustin will manage to adjust it.”

“It’s not a problem.” The android intervenes “As I told you, I’m not going to call for help from your planet. I just need to get to the next one and…”

Eddie has to leave the fucking planet and he has to do it soon. He could fly almost everything. He just needs the right occasion.

When the android gets up he notices that he is… bleeding?

“What the fuck? Is that blood?”

S.T.E.V.E. looks down at the red liquid.

“I’m leaking. Again.”

“It’s… red?” Eddie asks again and the android nods.

“Dustin put some kind of coloring in my tank to see where I was leaking. I must have damaged myself getting back from the desert.”

Eddie keeps repeating to himself that he is not a bleeding man. He is an android who is leaking some kind of liquid, but the red seems so close to blood and it brings back so many bad memories.

“Maybe you should go see Dustin again.” Joyce suggests, but the android shakes his head.

“It’s late, and he is just a kid. He should rest.”

“But you are leaking…”

“It’s just the refrigerating liquid. We are not outside anymore, I'll be fine.” Then he looks around the room “I just need some time to recharge my battery. It was damaged in the crash and I think it’s getting lower faster than usual.”

Eddie looks at the android. He has killed androids before. He has cut their heads and smashed them on the ground. He has made them explode. Still, the idea that he somehow hurt this one makes him sick to his stomach.

“Are you going to be ok? Are you sure?” Joyce asks again and the android nods.

“I’ll be ok. And even if I will not it will be better for you. Less problem for you. And Dustin told me I would be a ‘hell of a lawn mower’” he replies smiling.

That fucking piece of metal just smiled and Eddie's heart jumps in his stomach.

Androids don’t smile.

Androids don’t make jokes.

Androids have no fucking emotions.

Androids… maybe Joyce is right. This android is definitely something special. Or maybe it’s broken. Maybe he hit his head in the crash and something is deeply damaged inside his head.

In any case, he doesn’t like it.

“What about being identifiable?” Eddie asks and S.T.E.V.E. turns toward him.

“I’m an android. Anyone here knows that.”

He does, but there is something really strange about this particular android.

“What did you tell them?” Eddie asks from his bed “I’m no murderer.”

“Your wanted poster states the contrary.” He touches the side of his head and from his eyes comes out a beam of light that transforms into a poster with his face. Wanted dead or alive.

He has done many things he is not proud of. But the one that hurt the most, the one that definitely put a price on his head wasn’t really his fault.

“I didn’t kill them.”

“You put a bomb during a sports event.”

He did. And he didn’t.

They put the bomb, that’s true, but not under the bleachers. They put it far from the human entrance but close to the place where the androids were stationed, just outside of the stadium’s perimeter. 

Someone moved the bomb.

Someone moved the bomb and killed two hundred people.

And Chrissy.

She was a cheerleader for the local team.

She was the one who told them about the event and suggested where to put the bomb. 

He should have never agreed to put the bomb so close to the girl.

Or to other humans.

He has no proof but he knows deep in his heart that it was fucking Vecna.

He has seen him on television, after the explosion. Perfectly fine with his white uniform in pristine condition. While humans were crying and screaming he was giving an interview, talking about the level of security of the galaxy. Talking shit about them. Talking shit about Eddie.

“I didn’t kill anyone.” He replies “I never killed a human in my entire life!”

A human. 

Androids? 

Thousands. 

But is it killing if they are not even alive?

The android turns off the light and turns toward him.

“My dispatch contains information that says the contrary.” S.T.E.V.E. repeats.

“Your dispatch is fake. I didn’t kill Chrissy. I would have never hurt her. And he knew it. He knew that I cared about her! Deeply! That’s why he did it! Fucking Vecna!” he yells and the android looks at him.

“Chrissy Cunningham?” he asks.

How the fuck does he know?

“I did a quick research on the victims of the explosion while you were talking.” He replies, and then some smoke starts to leak out from his left ear.

“Stevie? Your ear…” he tries to tell him, but before he can finish his phrase the android falls to the ground with a loud thud.

What the fuck is happening?

“Is he… broken?” Eddie asks, trying to get up from the bed but still too weak for that.

“I don’t fucking know.” The man replies, then he looks at the woman “What do we do?”

“Call Dustin. Now.” She replies, getting closer to the android and trying to take his head into his arms.

“He is too hot. I can’t touch him.”

“Do you think he is going to explode? We should bring him outside in case…”

“No.” A little girl appeared from nowhere says “We must help him.” She states and the two adults look at her with concern.

“Sweetie, he is an old model and was damaged during the crash of his ship…”

“Help him, dad.” The little girl asks and the man sighs.

“Joyce. Call Dustin.”

The woman leaves the room and comes back soon with a boy in pajamas.

“What the fuck did you do to him, Hop!”

“I did nothing at all! He was showing us a wanted poster and suddenly some smoke got out from his ear and he collapsed.”

“It’s the fucking battery. It’s too old. When he tried to charge it has overloaded. I have to change it.”

“He doesn’t want that.” The man reminds him.

“He doesn’t want to die either.”

Eddie intervenes “He is an android! He doesn’t even know what being dead means! It’s probably just an abstract concept to him. The real question it’s: is it going to explode? He was leaking cooling liquid and Joyce said that he was too hot to touch. I’m quite sure he is almost a bomb right now.”

Dustin looks at him surprised, "What do you know about robotics and mechanics?”

He knows enough to know that the android is a ticking bomb.

Tag list: @shunna, @yourmom-isgay I hope you enjoy it!

[thedestructionofgrace]

Tlou ep7 spoilers:

(I’ve referred to bella as they/them in this post)

To all those who doubted Bella Ramseys portrayal of Ellie before the show even fucking aired, I sincerely hope you have the maturity to admit that you were fucking wrong. Not only did you doubt Bella but you also doubted Neil druckmann (the creator) AND Ashley Johnson (OG Ellie) when they gave their approval of bella and their performance. There is no other word than outstanding to describe bella, their acting was spot on in this episode, it has been in the other episodes too but this one… this one right here I mean they gave us everything, the little side glances, the smiles, the admiration and love towards Riley was just amazing. All those little details and bella didn’t drop the ball once, throughout the entire episode you could see feel every emotion that ellie was feeling and aw man Rahul kohli put it best, “Bella Ramsey is one of the most talented and exciting actors emerging from the next generation”.

While Pedro had like five minutes in this episode he too was amazing, Joel demanding ellie to leave, find Tommy and pushing her away, absolutely fucking gut wrenching, and his face when he realised she never left him 😫😫😫

Storm Reid, bloody hell, again the casting in this show is fucking delicious, like I don’t know how else to describe it. They just don’t get it wrong. Her Riley was great, and even though (any who’s played the game) we know what’s coming for her character, she still delivered this absolutely heart breaking performance, when she notices Ellie’s bite, then lifts her own hand!!!!! I wanted to cry so bad. Storm and Bella did not miss at all and their sapphic tension was so beautiful and I love that it wasn’t shyed away from in the show, I hope they both get recognition and awards because that is the least they deserve.

This episode had some of they most beautiful shots and the lighting was to die for, cinematically it was just gorgeous. When the mall lights came on and it cut to Ellie and her reaction 🤌🏼 I’m sure we all had the same look on our face while watching it. The shot when the two were playing in the arcade and it pans to the runner/clicker, like I was DONE!! even if you hadn’t played the game, you just fucking knew what it meant and you’re left with dread for the rest of the episode, you’re on the edge of your seat waiting for it all to go wrong and it finally comes and your feeling defeated. You’ve just watched two kids share there first kiss only for them to be sent to their doom within the next few minutes, only for us to know that ellie survived and Riley didn’t. I played left behind when I was 14 just like ellie, I’m now 21 and I got thrown back 7 years ago to my teenage self and I remember feeling so fucking mad and upset for her, all the same emotions came back tonight as I sat and watched this episode, it doesn’t matter that I already knew what was going to happen because Bella and Storm have just elevated this story to a whole other level with their acting ability and no one, no one could have done a better job than those two

The shot of Ellie holding Joel’s hand, their hands curled around eachother, oh my gosh, I know there are people who don’t think that the show can give us anything more than what the game already has but it is fucking giving, it’s giving us all those extra details and insights to all the relationships that are formed and forming that we never got in the game. I mentioned this in my previous post regarding ep 6 but we get more background on Maria,her baby, her job, her marriage and pregnancy. Joel and him being a contractor, and having panic attacks and nightmares, the jokes and the glances between ellie and Joel and ellie and Riley, there’s just so many little things that give us so much more context and understanding and so many more things to love about these characters that we’ve already loved for so many years. and I just cant describe how much I appreciate it, I’m totally rambling at this point but I can’t stop.

Small points I want to shout out:

Mortal kombat!!!!

The clown and wolf mask

Ellie and Riley talking about lingerie 😂

The jumping between rooftops, I would’ve fucking loved to do that as a teenager

Ellie having to stitch Joel up, I’m not really squeamish but I did feel my face scrunch when I watched it

Ellie’s little smile then instant apology after kissing Riley 😫 “for what” 😭

When the dead body fell through the floor, not gonna lie it made me jump a lil, thought it was gonna come alive for a second,

Them stealing alcohol off a dead body 😂 like that’s fucked up

The photo both scene, aw man I wish the photos printed better for them 😢

Just Ellie being fucking gay, every smile or look towards Riley, especially on the carousel, like girl you’re so fucking in love

I like how we got to see how Ellie ended up in the fight at the start

The purple lighting in the arcade was gorgeous as well as the carousel 💜😍

Take on me!!! Who doesn’t love foreshadowing? This song is playing while Ellie is with the first girl she’s in love with, Joel’s gonna teach her how to play it on guitar at some point and then one day she’s gonna sing it to Dina, my heart can’t take this it’s too much!!! 😭😭

Um Ellie and Riley’s lol dance scene together was so fucking cute

My eyes fucking widened and my jaw dropped when I saw those bombs on the shelf!!! Like Marlene why are you letting this kid handle home made bombs??!!

THE GAP

I keep forgetting how much Ellie doesn’t know about the world before, first when she’s in the car for the first time, then the escalators then her Riley not knowing about screenshots lol, it’s really freaking adorable. Electric stairs.

Also did Riley say she is almost 17? That kinda threw me a lil bit

If I got assigned to sewage detail I would run away too

I don’t know why but when captain kwong said to Ellie that he sees a leader in her i thought it was interesting

The naughty dog logo!!! The paw on the keys kwong has on his desk

Dawn of the wolf

Those freaking dolls in the doll store where the infected was, that was actually really creepy to me

This entire episode was just so well done, beautiful shots, lighting, music, cast, and Bella and Ellie were fucking phenomenal, I can’t wait til we get to the next episode, also kinda scared too cos we know what’s coming

[davyjoneslockr]

Narancia for the character game! Or, if someone else beat me to Nara, Coco Jumbo

(For this ask game)

First impression: Okay so fun fact, my partner is a huge Narancia fan, and has been since before we met (which was actually because of JJBA lol, but I digress), so before I got to Vento Aureo, I already knew quite a bit about him from their infodumping. So I went into it kinda biased, but I did really like him from the start. I thought he was cute and fun and was a good silly childish character to balance out all the depressing shit happening elsewhere.

Impression now: Hhhhhhhhh. Love this little dude. I think he’s the second-best written character in that part (behind Bucciarati) and he occupies so much of my brain at all times you have no idea. He’s cute and silly, but not innocent, and his whole story really emphasizes the tragedy of VA. I like that, on a level only comparable to Giorno, he exercises a ton of agency – not only in getting on the boat, but by disobeying Bucciarati’s orders to leave Passione alone and go home. People don’t talk enough about how, unlike the others, Narancia actually had the chance to live a normal life, but didn’t take it. Narancia effectively ruined his own life for the sake of companionship. Augh. And I sobbed so hard over his death. Still do every time I watch it. Whatever. Fantastic character I adore him

Favorite moment: That scene where he’s in the turtle with Trish, and, even though she’s trying to hide her feelings, he reads her perfectly and lays everything out in a way that shocks even her. Even though there’s a lot of jokes about Narancia’s book smarts, he’s really fucking emotionally intelligent – more than anyone else in the gang, I’d say, easily – and that’s super important. It’s the reason he was able to get on the boat when Fugo wasn’t. There’s a few moments in Purple Haze Feedback, in flashbacks, where Narancia holds the fact that he’s older over Fugo’s head, and jokingly equates age with superiority and experience or whatever. But the truth is, he actually is wiser and understands the world better than Fugo (or, really, anyone else). Genuinely love that so much.

Idea for a story: Hopping on the pre-canon train again, but I really want to write about the period after Bucciarati sends him back home to return to school, up to the point where he goes behind his back and joins the gang. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t have Bucciarati to guide him towards Polpo, nor did he likely know what a stand was before his initiation. He had to figure all that out by himself and go into it blind. I don’t see enough fanwork about that, and it’s a shame, because I think there’s a lot of really interesting stuff to theorize about there.

Unpopular opinion: Hate hate HATE it when people treat him like a toddler. Like I said, he’s not innocent, and while he can be a bit childish, the infantilization he gets from the fandom is a bit much. Every time I see someone claim he should’ve been younger than Fugo, I’m like. NO. THATS THE POINT. LIKE I SAID HE’S OLDER AND WISER AND MORE MATURE AND THAT’S IMPORTANT. Also I feel like it’s weird how people constantly portray him like a child and rag on his intelligence when it seems likely that he has a learning disorder but we’re not ready for that conversation are we.

Favorite relationship: Ohh boy where do I start. Romantically I obviously adore Naramis and I really like Naratrish as well. Friends to lovers who act as each other’s solace from the horrors of their daily life + two sides of the same coin who naturally seem to understand each other but have to work to see where their own self projection ends and the other begins. Both fantastic dynamics imo. And his relationship with Fugo drives me insane oh my goddd. They’re exes they’re best friends they hurt each other constantly they love each other so deeply they know each other so well they’ll never be able to fully understand each other. They’re soulmates but not in a romantic sense just in two people who wouldn’t be complete had the other not occupied a space in their life. Etc.

Favorite headcanon: HIS SKIRT WAS HIS MOM’S AND HE TOOK IT WHEN HE RAN AWAY FOR GOOD also when he’s older because he lives to be older shhhh he gets a little growth spurt and ends up just barely taller than Fugo smiles. Autistic ADHD icon as well :]

[purple-link]

Alisaie and Purple Link

FFXIV Write 2024 Story Entry

Spoiler: Story takes place after WoL reaches Garlemald in Endwalker, but but before the Tower of Babil dungeon. Story will be largely sfw, but will adhere to FFXIV's level of mature storytelling.

Chapter 23: On Cloud Nine

“…And that’s just how it’s been,” said Purple Link, flying on one of his own Lanners, a purple-winged beauty, natch, “My life has been an endless series of bad luck cases. I was working out in the fields of Central Thanalan before Thancred found me.

"I don’t really need to tell you what happened after that.”

“Duly noted,” said Alisaie, agreeing, riding atop her own Yol, “However, Purple, you must understand, I wasn’t there for most of it.

"I re-joined the party in Ishgard, only really seriously considering joining permanently after the debacle that was the Crystal Braves.”

Purple Link grimaced. He remembered the efforts that Alphinaud took to make a unified front against the Garleans, what was to be now called the “Grand Company of Eorzea.”

…There was to be another name, he remembered, but it was shot down quickly.

In any case, the matter of Alisaie’s joining of the Scions was moot point, now that they were pretty much each other’s moral anchor.

In the figurative sense, not in the soul sense.

“I suppose that’s true,” said Purple Link, “I mean, long story short, we went after Gaius in the Praetorium, he went on about some such other, things like who I fought for, or why men like Louisoix would grovel at the feet of the gods.

“Understandably, I was very glib,” he added, as if all the memories rushed back to him over and over, in a never-ending repetition of yelling and golden gunblades.

“Who wouldn’t be?” said Alisaie, “Not that Gaius thinks that now, but he’s had his own perspective shifted about Grandfather’s actions. I think now he would be paradoxically impressed by him.”

“Yeah,” said Purple Link, sadly, “But it took him losing nearly all his family to change his mind.”

The Wolf Burglar, who had been flying very neatly alongside his huge but otherwise very normal falcon Montaro, had been listening to only about half this stuff.

“This really doesn’t concern me at all about any of it, does it?” said the Wolf Burglar, “I mean, I understand basically nothing.”

“Let’s just say,” said Purple Link, “The definition for ‘apocalypse’ didn’t have a plural until I came along.”

“That’s not strictly true, is it?” queried Alisiae, “After all, this is the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

"Unless Hydaelyn is swarming about the planet’s surface activating Warriors of Light all over the place, I don’t think we could depend on anyone but you to face the dangers we ask of you.

“However, I don’t think that excludes the number of people who have been Warriors of Light in the past, to face those previous calamities,” said Alisie, “Nor does it explain the very large wall in remembrance of the Rising, in Ul’dah’s corner of their streets.

"Obviously, there had to have been others.”

“Well, I’m just glad to help,” said Purple Link, “Whatever the case may be. Speaking of which, do you know where we should look next?”

“Well, this is Yanxia,” said the Wolf Burglar, as they swooped over the great red wall that separated the ruins of Doma from Namai, “I’m pretty sure we covered this whole coastline, sans the Glittering Basin.

"All the same, it wouldn’t hurt to do one more go-through.”

“Agreed,” said Purple Link, and they separated to cover more ground.

It was now two days before the ceremony, Alphinaud was still a prisoner of the bandits, and they were no closer to finding the location of the ceremony. All previous requests to hold the ceremony anew elsewhere were quickly shot down.

“I want this to go as perfectly as possible,” said Lord Hien, after debriefing with him swiftly, “The best show of diplomacy with our Lupin allies is to be as accurate as possible.”

“The Lupin appreciate a show of force,” said Hakuro, “But we equally appreciate a solemn gesture. Such is the way of the Alpha.”

The mention of tradition forced their hand, and with Lord Hien insistent on it, they had no choice but to look for the location on their own.

Starting over in the southeastern portion of Yanxia, which connected to the Ruby Sea, they covered all the familiar haunts, stretching from the Glittering Basin itself to the ends of Prism Lake.

From their vantage point, Purple noticed the Lupin in the Glittering Basin were fighting against the Tenaga, big hulking tree-like creatures that wrapped around a crystal host.

He only merely cast a glance, but he thought he could see an oddly shaped white-furred Lupin teaching the bandits how to do a trick.

His attention was laid elsewhere, as he flew over a rather beautiful and isolated spot he’d visited many times before. It was one of his favorite secret spots, a plum spring with large blossoming leaves, a pink so vibrant, they could even be seen in the dark.

While this helped him clear his mind, he deemed the place a bit too perfect for such a ceremony. It didn’t attract visitors the way that even, level ground could provide.

“Hey Purple?” said a voice suddenly, in his ear. Purple Link tapped the linkpearl twice to answer the call.

“I can hear you,” said Purple, “How’s it going, Alisaie?”

“So, I just covered Namai, and I know you’ve got the Glittering Basin covered,” said Alisaie, “I’ve been told stories about the Lupin, and I think they might offer us a clue. I wanted to run them by you, first.

"Could I ask you to come to Namai?”

“On my way,” said Purple Link, and he hopped back onto his purple-winged lanner and shot off into the sky.

Meanwhile, the Wolf Burglar was having a hell of a time. Having just survived yet another excursion with the automata that roamed Doma’s razed streets, he floated above Prism Lake, thinking the Lupin would have to be mad to travel so high up, and so far past the line of Rijin rule, if they wanted to have a celebration on such uneven ground.

Especially if it was the Lupin he was thinking of. They would have rather been caught dead than willingly travel through Doma’s boundaries, even if it was merely a matter of principle up to this point.

He was still thinking about Purple Link, and their time in Rhalgr’s Reach. Having left the sunny spot to the Ala Mhigans, they blipped back to Yanxia, to try another hand at searching places it might not have occurred to him to look.

He was thinking about his parents again.

He hated to do so, it brought to him some uncomfortable memories, about living under Garlean rule, about having to live off the streets.

Traveling to Kugane felt a little familiar to him, and he realized it might have been because he wasn’t the first person to do such a thing.

He’s berated the Warrior of Light long enough on his status as a superhero, he didn’t exactly have time to question who he was as a person.

He didn’t realize the Warrior of Light would have all the answers.

Not that the Wolf Burglar's pre-teen years didn’t go by as a blur, of course it did, especially before he turned ten. But he did remember his parents' faces.

Huge muzzles hovering over his, like proud parents, or perhaps that of a pet owner. It didn’t matter to him, he was their child, and he was happy.

Then came the purge of insurgents.

He didn’t remember who they fought for, he didn’t know who they were, and he specifically didn’t remember how his parents were involved.

He knew, even then, that life could be cruel and unfair. Waiting around for things to get better on their own didn’t seem to suit his lifestyle, so he dug a little deeper, cut a little closer.

With his step-father’s sword by his side, he could start taking down some big-name targets.

But how the tides could quickly turn. The horrible leaders and two-timing merchants also had families, and they weren’t exactly awful fathers when they were alone. Depriving them of even their families was beneath his stature.

He didn’t like to kill. He just liked to steal.

The people he spared would soon come after him, with bounty hunters, serial-killers, and the Sekiseigumi, the police force that worked for the Kugane government.

They would sooner become villains in their own right, and good luck to that, but it felt like a mercy that was spared too soon.

But then Purple Link arrived on the scene, and that blustering Hildebrand. He couldn’t believe his eyes that his world could flip-turn, upside-down, and show him a newer perspective.

And now he was doing it again.

What right did he have to be cynical, thought the Wolf Burglar about himself. All he could think about was a samurai sword and a few broken promises.

Promises he made to his parents.

Promises he made to his adoptive samurai father.

Promises he made to the people of Kugane, who were waiting for his salve of justice.

Then there was the possibility the world could be destroyed at any moment, he thought. The problem became too big in his mind to contemplate.

He decided he would leave that to the real Warrior of Light, to truth and justice, and whatever else he had on his plate.

Before he knew it, he was on the south side of Doma.

Doma and Doma Castle surrounded a large river, one that separated Doma from the section of the southern side of Othard. In the middle of the river, he could see, was the Doman Enclave, almost a small hutlet community from this distance.

…What was he going to do about Lord Hien, he thought. If everything went well, he could bring a whole new generation of Lupin security and peace. On the other hand…

As his thoughts drifted to the possibility of betraying Lord Hien, his eyes caught something. Something that hadn’t occurred to him before.

From the streets of Doma, a path wound it’s way down to the shores of the gulf, where stood a short pier. He hadn’t thought of it at the time, but the pier seemed too small to travel the One River without taking great pains to get to the sea, and eventually the ocean.

It didn't seem like it could berth huge trading ships easily. It must have been for local transport.

Cross the One River, on the other hand, and you had a small little island, one that shouldered a huge cliff face, and the gargantuan Dairyu Moon Gates.

These gates had recently been hijacked and refitted to include Garlean shield technology, but since the Garleans had left, there was no one there to deliver upkeep.

Anybody could pass through them.

He wondered…

The first thing that caught his eye was a tree that grew in a very odd way. It was almost tapering off and growing precisely upside-down and horizontally in tiers. It took the appearance of a flight of stairs.

It was growing on top of a huge pillar of rock, not unlike those in the Doman Enclave.

It vaguely reminded him of something.

“...Upside-down tree…” said the Wolf Burglar, “But where are Ganen’s eyes?”

He snapped his fingers, and then flew around the gate, to the visage of Ganen carved into the very rock of the Dairyu Moon Gates.

He smiled briefly at the noble figure of the Doman leader, until he realized the eyes looked clouded over. Not only was the crystal laid into the eyes of the carving icy-blue, but a bunch of crude bird droppings had caked the the lenses. The leader was effectively blinded.

No one had come by to clean it. No one lived in Doma, Namai was too far away, and the namazu, those flippy-floopy catfish that lived in Yuzuka Manor, would probably live to clean it, if it weren’t for dealing with their own problems.

“So, if Ganen is blinded?” said the Wolf Burglar, feeling like he was onto something, “Where are his eyes…?

“In the back of his head!” recalled the Wolf Burglar, tapping his fist into his palm. He flew back around the Moon Gate, only to find the cliff face didn’t have any indications.

“...What?” said the Wolf Burglar, “No eyes…”

He shook his head.

“Maybe I’m imagining things,” said the Wolf Burglar, mildly disappointed, “It was just a dream, after all…”

Feeling like he monumentally wasted his own time, he was about to turn and leave, until he saw a pair of windows in the distance, in one of the columns of lookout towers posted in cardinal directions, each side of Doma Castle.

The whole place had been wrecked, purposefully destroyed by Lord Hien and the Warrior of Light, in an effort to drive out the Garleans.

The Wolf Burglar always thought that it was a terrible waste, not that it could spoil it’s newly organic beauty.

Cascading waterfalls flowed through the recently destroyed halls of the Rijin dynasty’s castle. The lookout towers seemed hardly touched.

The Wolf Burglar twisted his head sideways, as like a dog that heard the word "treat" the first time and wanted you to repeat it a couple more times just to make absolutely sure it heard you.

And what a treat it was, too. The tower looked an awful lot like the mustache and beard Lord Ganen wore on the other side of the gate.

Suddenly, and in a flash of imagination, everything became clear. The old lady au ra was talking about level ground, an upside-down tree, and the back of Lord Ganen’s eyes.

The eyes weren’t literally behind the carving, they were behind the gate, looking ponderously at the upside-down tree that hung over what looked like a perfect spot to hold a ceremony.

He flew to the side of the gate. He could see Purple Link hovering over the Glittering Basin, heading toward Plum Spring.

The Glittering Basin had a direct connection to Doma Castle, if the Lupin wanted to travel from there to the island. In turn, the Doman civilians could come down from their "high-horse," slumming it with the commoners that lived in the outskirts.

It couldn’t be more perfect.

A location that not only brought the Domans down a peg or two, but allowed everyone to travel as equals.

What’s more, with the Doman Enclave in view, it seemed even more appropriate, now that they were on even more equal ground.

“This feels too easy,” said the Wolf Burglar, his fur standing on end, “This couldn’t be…

"But it should be.

“I need to tell somebody,” said the Wolf Burglar, flying on Cloud Nine until he could reach Namai, the assumed direction that Purple Link headed towards after reaching the Plum Spring. He had a pretty good suspicion he could meet the Warrior of Light there.

He started to hoot and holler, howling like a mad wolf, his mind sparkling at the possibilities of what could be a most excellent ceremony.

…

It was 38-hours before the so-called ceremony was to take place, and they couldn’t get a clue to find the location before the Warrior of Light’s party could.

Before he could return to Akimitsu, the shadowy Lupin who had traveled to Ala Mhigo, felt it important to tail the heroes.

As they used the aethernet to travel to Yanxia, he figured it was as good a place to start as any. However, considering the bandits hadn’t officially attuned to the crystals, he had to go the long way around.

He figured it took him at least that long to get here, but he was awarded by the Warrior of Light's party taking high wing, looking all over the place for a location they had obviously not found yet.

What luck!

He hunkered down in a bush for a spell, and waited until he watched one of them discover something unusual about the landscape, in case it was here in Yanxia.

His favorite of the party to watch was the Wolf Burglar, not only because he felt a kinship to him, but also that he cut an interesting figure.

The Lupin didn’t wear bulky outfits, nor did he wear the general Lupin uniforms everyone had been wearing. The Garlean occupation was so recent, there hadn’t been time to tailor new outfits that could accommodate their unique body shapes and their generously floofy wolf tails.

On the other hand, the Wolf Burglar wore chainmail, and was often seen wearing sleeveless attire. He was the type that could afford expensive clothing and armor from Kugane.

But he didn’t hold a grudge against him for it. This shadowy Lupin was unashamedly jealous of the Wolf Burglar’s lifestyle, and wished that he could walk in two worlds as easily as that dashing Wolf Burglar did.

Eventually, his observation paid off. The Wolf Burglar spent an inordinately large amount of time hovering over a spot by the One River. As soon as the Wolf Burglar left, he traveled on foot to that very spot.

At first, he didn’t get it, because all he could find was a deserted island full of nothing but Whitewing Hornbills and Lightning Sprites.

And then he looked up, to see an upside-down tree, one that grew over the edge of the rock pillar.

He remembered what the Wolf Burglar told him about the Xaelan Au Ra and her dream.

Could that be true?

Could she see visions?

He looked around for anything eye shaped, and almost despaired, thinking that the Wolf Burglar had finally gone mad, but the way he was hooting and hollering, you’d think he’d found a holy grail.

On the side of the dilapidated Doma Castle, there were some windows that seemed to look like eyes, and at the right angle, they appeared to stare right at the upside down tree.

The shadowy Lupin grinned, feeling like things were finally starting to go his way.

“I can’t wait to tell Boss Akimitsu,” he shouted happily, hopping into his boat and rowing all the way back to the Glittering Basin.

To be continued…

(For those curious, the spot in question is X: 9.8 Y: 17.6 Z: 1.0 in Yanxia)

[teruthecreator]

1 AM and the servers asleep so i’m just gonna post my thoughts on here but i think it’s rlly so important and poignant how sho extends an olive branch to his father after everything that happened, when he absolutely would’ve been justified in spitting in toichiro’s face and walking out of his life forever (similarly to what toichiro did to him, metaphorically at least). and that decision that he makes is one that cements how mature and understanding sho is despite his antics and attitude.

like, he’s a kid, and he’s a kid that experienced massive amounts of abuse and trauma in his formative years. we will truly never know how he was raised whilst working in claw, but seeing how pretty much everyone else was manipulated, brainwashed, and tortured into reaching their full potential—the assumption can be made that it wasn’t easy. and sho’s father is Directly responsible for that, meaning he’s Directly responsible for any mistreatment or neglect sho faced even if it wasn’t done by him directly. and any kid at his age with all that baggage probably wouldn’t want to keep their dad around, after everything has finally been resolved. but sho doesn’t do that; he reminds toichiro that he’s still gotta hear an earful from his ex wife, and sho is ensuring that this won’t be the end. he is offering his father a kindness that that man never gave to him. and that’s like. Astounding for a kid his age

i think it’s really easy for people to place sho firmly in the trope of like silly, goofy kid with an insane side; but sho has one of the most level heads out of the esper teens. it’s kind of like he got a lot of that emotional turbulence out of the way beforehand, and now is just centering his focus on this one goal. of course, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do stupid shit based on bad trains of thought (the whole concept of him trying to resist the narrative only to become more ingrained in it is like. right there. also the hero trope shit y’all have seen the essay posts i’m not reiterating). but sho is a lot more sure of what he’s doing and what he wants than ritsu, mob, or teru.

also it’s just like. the fact that he gives his father a second chance really drives home the message of the entire series. that people can make mistakes, but those mistakes do not have to define their whole existence if they’re willing to own up to them and change. sho is extending himself in much the same way mob extended himself to toichiro hours earlier, only this time there’s the weight of this probably not being the first time sho has given his father a second chance and yet he Still does it. and toichiro realizing that he could’ve squandered that chance during confession arc is SO GOOD like you see how sho is conflicted and hurt bc he’s essentially being let down once again, and so toichiro walks back. he won’t let his son’s trust be given in vain

the suzukis rival the kageyamas in terms of like. accurate familial representation. like if you eliminate all of the psychic terrorism bullshit, this is a broken family—further broken by a messy divorce—trying to navigate life post-everything. there is no expectation for sho to forgive his father (he doesn’t do that at any point and That Is Important), and there’s no expectation for him to do anything with his father At All. toichiro understands that he is deserving of no one’s kindness.

yet sho does it anyway. he does it because he wants to and because he cares. and that’s far more than toichiro could’ve ever asked for

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 71: Melody

Chapter 71: Melody

Note: It’s been FAR too long. To everyone still reading: Sorry. Life happened. A lot. I’m sorry I made you wait so long. Welcome back! I hope I can make the wait worth it for you all!

(-~-)

Time almost seemed to stop as the twins stood there in the yard, genuinely taken aback by the reality of how unfortunate their timing was. They couldn’t tell if they were on a lucky streak for making it this far, or were truly cursed for more than likely being too late after how far they’d come. At present, they didn’t know who was coming or going, but the sheer disbelief that overcame them regardless was stupifying.

Dante resisted the urge to point out the obvious solution of just asking one of the movers or going to find out himself, fully aware that his brother wasn’t dense enough not to have thought of that already. The fact that he was still standing there was a clear indication that he was thinking. Dwelling. Lingering on something pressing that he hadn’t verbally elaborated on.

The younger of the two couldn’t help but notice the irony of their apparently shared propensity towards bad timing, but he couldn’t appreciate the humor in it. This wasn’t the time. Far from it. They needed answers, and they were in the right place to get them. If they didn’t continue stalling from overwhelmed shock, that was.

“Stagefright, Vergil?” The younger devil hunter in red said as he stepped just a bit closer to his older brother. It wasn’t really a joke or a question so much as it was a realization. A way of breaking the ice. An attempt at making an unfortunate situation less agonizing. A bit of brevity in the wake of potential heartbreak. Something neither of them needed more of.

It was undeniable that Vergil was overcome with a conflicting mixture of emotions and reactions; sensations and subtle doubts. A cascade of feelings that he almost seemed to pick through one at a time without really feeling all of them at any individual point. Was he afraid that he’d be overwhelmed by them if he gave them the chance to soak in, to be known? To be felt? It was evident in everything from his facial expressions to the subtle shift in his body language that he was processing quite a bit and not doing a particularly good job of it.

“Hardly…” Vergil said almost too vacantly. He’d heard him and processed what he was saying, but his attention was understandably elsewhere. He was scouring the area around them, looking for something specific amongst the commotion. And he found it. As his gaze fell upon the front door, he folded his arms in front of him,  took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and just stood there for a moment before slowly and evenly exhaling, unfolding his arms, and heading towards the front door. 

There was no point in delaying the inevitable. She was either here or she wasn’t. They needed to know. How could they proceed if they didn’t have the right info?

Vergil looked like a man being marched over to mount the gallows as he approached the front porch with measured, calculated steps. He slowed noticeably as he grew nearer to the front door, his heart rate rising to a perceptible level with each and every step. It was something that he ignored, but something that Dante couldn’t help but notice as he walked past him from behind and walked a few feet over past his brother to the far right side of the porch, leaning back first against the wall. He wanted to be close, but he also figured that giving Vergil space was something of a given under these circumstances.

It was an unspoken measure that Vergil made a subconscious note of, pausing in front of the door and glancing over at his younger brother out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t speak, but he did nod a single time in conformation and appreciation. Yes, Dante certainly had matured a considerable amount since their interactions during their teenage years. He would’ve had to ask him to do this back then, and although he would have obliged, they would have butted heads. Nothing could be said between them back then without a notable air of struggle and animosity to it all. Contaminating everything interaction between them.

… He was glad they had moved past that. He was glad to have Dante back. And he knew that the feeling was mutual.

As he raised his clenched hand up to the door and allowed it to just sort of hover there for what felt like an age as he mentally chastised himself for allowing his nerves to get the best of him, he recalled Dante’s words from a few minutes prior. “Stagefright” felt like an apt description of what he was feeling right now. The anxiety that anchored him. That rose up through him and flooded everything around him like a wellspring of folly and remorse. Was… this what V felt like? In those moments when he couldn’t think? When he couldn’t speak? When he’d been faced with the unimaginable? When he’d put him through all of that back when it had all begun? To face down something so unmovable knowing what the reality of not succeeding would do to him? 

Was this what it felt like to be his son?

And for that matter, Nero?

How had losing his arm affected him? Shaken his view of what he’d been able to accomplish on his own? What he’d been able to protect. It was a commonality between them: the desire to protect themselves so that they could then protect what they loved most. He himself had taken that from Nero once without so much as a thought to it, only truly thinking about it once he realized who Nero was. And even if he hadn’t been his son the loss still would have been the same on his end. That both of his scions had the strength of heart, body, and mind to do what they had back in Redgrave City was a shining testament to their strength. A different value of strength than that of what he himself possessed. A different personal perception of their own value and capabilities. They’d both been on broken, shaky ground but they’d walked the path before them regardless. He would have taken a different, less bountiful both should it have been him. Something more widely destructive instead of personally punishing, of that he was sure. But that just wasn’t who either of them was at their core, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit of his own looming terror dissipate at the thought of their strength.

He needed to tell them both how proud of them he was. How impressed by their conviction he’d become. How astounding their level of personal and interpersonal discipline was, something that he and Dante had both struggled with for their entire lives. Two sets of opposites, but where he and his twin had clashed, V and Nero had melded. 

Dante and Vergil were oil in water mixed via emulsification through years of trial and error. V and Nero were an alloy, hardened by fire and pressure into something stronger than their component parts could ever be alone. The devil twins had long been opposing forms of magnetism that could never touch, determined to definitively stand on their own at the expense of everything they could be together. His sons were Ferrofluid.

Perhaps he and Dante had taught them the best lesson they possibly could by never teaching them anything at all. 

By virtue of who they truly were and what their principles stood for, they’d been uniquely suited to repair something that they never should have needed to. Something they shouldn’t have been able to. They’d fixed him. And in doing so, had shown him that there was another way. A way to cut out of what had held in thrall for so long. They’d saved all of them by not being their forbearers. By not embodying some of their least desirable traits, regardless of how understandable the circumstances behind how they developed them naturally were. And he couldn’t be more astonished. And overjoyed.

He wished nothing of the worst of his nature on anyone, least of all his beloved offspring.

“... Perhaps.” He said simply. He agreed with Dante’s assessment of his state of mind. He was anxious. He was listless. He was tired and he hadn’t even started yet. And it was time that he made things right. He knocked on the door.

An eternity passed millisecond by millisecond as he heard nothing. Knew nothing. Sensed nothing. Not a creek of the floor from the other side of the door; not the clack or thump of a shoe approaching the door. Not a voice from the other side of the door assuring their approach. 

And then the lock turned.

He could practically feel each individual cog in the lock’s tumbler turn notch by notch as he heard on lock unlock. And then a second. And then some third sound that sounded like a slide lock being fiddled with but he couldn’t be certain. He felt the door handle turn. And he felt the breath leave him as his heart stopped and his stomach lurched as the door pulled inward away from him and towards whoever had deaned to open it.

They stepped from around the door. And a pair of forest green eyes peered from behind a layer of frizzy red fringe, meeting his own. They suddenly grew wide as the individual took in an audible gasp, nearly choking as they lurched backward, practically jumping backward. And then they were gone in an instant. 

He had never seen a door slam that fast in his entire life.

Dante looked stunned. He couldn’t see her from this angle, but even he had seen how short of a time that door had been open. He felt the deafening vibration that came with its closing as it reverberated through the brick and the wood of the porch. He noted the way that Vergil didn’t so much as blink, let alone move in response. He seemed to be buffering, his reaction delayed as he didn’t even attempt to process what he’d just experienced. Had that been her?

There was a long silence. It lasted a minute. Then a second. Then a third. There was nothing. No sound. No movement. Only the barely perceptible feeling of Vergil’s own breath bouncing back towards him as he stood mere inches from the door, his breathing so shallow that it didn’t quite suffice. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt lightheaded, but he certainly did right now.

Registering anything around him was out of the question. He’d nearly forgotten where he was entirely, let alone that Dante was staring at him or that a few of the movers out front were whispering to one another about what had just happened as they loaded the last of the boxes into the back of the truck, their interest piqued but no action take beyond observing with keen interest and quiet discomfort.

He drew in a more satisfying breath and then let it out so slowly that the movement of his chest was undetectable.

“Viv.” The volume and tone of his voice were so minute that he was almost certain that he was the only one who had heard him speak. The small collection of letters carried with them a measure of pain, fright, and breathless pleading that he didn’t even attempt to conceal. He’d seen her for maybe a quarter of a millisecond but he knew those eyes anywhere. They haunted him every time his mind wandered. Every time he had something that strayed away from a nightmare and closer to a dream. Every time he looked at V. How could he ever forget them?

The door handle turned again. Slowly. Painfully slow as if the person behind it were trying to open it as quietly as possible. It turned with the methodical, deliberate motion of a knife burrowing deeper into a wound that it had already made. It creaked for a moment before the hinge lost all volume and the door eased all the way open, this time stopping when it reached the wall by virtue of an extended arm connected to the person who stood framed by its outline like a treasured photograph.

She didn’t look even a monochrome less beautiful than he’d remembered.

In fact, perhaps he’d misremembered the true extent of her beauty. Because she just stood there, robbing his body of every breath that it should be taking; a theft that he would willingly allow if it gave him just a moment longer to take her in. For it was there in that doorway that a weight both fled him and was instantly replaced by something else. The realization that his affection for her had never weighed. It had just transformed into something else. Something colder at her loss. Something that lacked the beauty she’d once brought into his somber presence. The knowledge that she yet loved now proven as she stood before him robbed him of all the pain her departure and infused into him. Into the very marrow of his bones and the fibers of his nerves. He’d never truly known release for that baseline of agony. 

He hadn’t failed her completely. She was still here. No illusion, listless daydream, or fantasy of a broken, hopeless mind conspiring with a wistful spirit. He’d been mended by virtue of her continued existence alone. The last hair of hope he’s clung to had been vindicated. Even if she hated him as he thought she would. As he reasoned he disserved for everything he had and hadn’t done, warranted or otherwise. And even if she never spoke a single word to him again, she had already done more than enough.

“Vivienne.”

He spoke as if her name was the key to something he’d just recalled he’d lost. He’d been looking directly at her, but as her eyes fell upon him they suddenly shifted downward, past her entirely and towards his boots below. He couldn’t muster the will to look her in the eye. He’d never experienced that before. But after the raging torrent of conflict writhing within him subsided just enough for him to go on living, he tilted his head back ever so slightly, craning his neck to the left just enough to be noticeable, and his redirected his eyes back up to her. Where they belonged. And as they stood there and stared at one another breathlessly, a single tear rolled down the side of her face as she blinked repeatedly. She looked tired. More tired than he’d ever felt. It was written all over her face.

“V-Ver… gil…“ Her voice nearly cracked as she dragged the disbelieving syllables out of her mouth and laid them bare before her. She knew that her eyes didn’t lie. Perhaps her mind and heart had conspired to haunt her with his memory from her past, but her eyes were less easily fooled. How could she even conjure a vision so vivid as this from inside her mind's eye? She took a single step forward and extended a shaky hand out to him, resting it on his lower arm. The same arm she had just extended. Her left. And she gripped it; gripped it so gently as though she thought it might break or vanish entirely if she either let go or held him any tighter.

She gasped shakily as she looked at the point where her hand gripped him, her eyes darting up towards him as he watched her eyes well with unshed tears. Truly this wasn’t a dream. No dream she’d ever experienced had ever been so vivid. And as she stared up at him he couldn’t help but feel something in his chest catch at the very notion of her. Of the fact that this was real. That she was real. And although his own eyes didn’t well in the same maner as hers had by pure virtue of how long it had been since he’d managed such a feat, he felt them burn, and much as she had shed a single tear upon the moment she’d seen him, he did the very same, as shocked to experience such as thing as she was to witness it. “... Vergil…”

As his senses slowly began to recover from their state of numbness, the soft melody of something he hadn’t registered before reached his ears. It was subtle. Subdued. A melody so familiar that he felt he’d been born with it pre-programmed into his head even though he knew that wasn’t the case.

Reverie. She still had the record.

(-~-)

It felt SO GOOD to write this chapter! I’ve been waiting for this moment for SO LONG! Gah! I feel like I just received personal closure! Also, I just realized how long you’ve been sitting on the edge of this cliffhanger, and I can only apologize yet again. What an awful amount of suspense to be stuck on. I can only hope that this next series of chapters will help make up for that, because I’ve had quite a while to think out the fine points of how this is going to play out, and I’m excited to share what I have in store with all of you!

I’m also rethinking the details of the upload schedule. I used to upload twice a week and I’m trying to get back to something at least close to that, so I’m running some numbers and I’ll get back to you on that. I’m sure the more languid pace is torture. Let me see what I can do. It was a lot easier during the pandemic due to my health issues being non-existent along with having been laid off from my job. I had so much more stamina back then, but I still have the same amount of passion and my health is now in a much better place. Not to be cringe, but let me cook lol I’m working on something that works better for all of us! I have some ideas.

Thanks again for reading this chapter. Welcome back! And if you are new, welcome in general! I know I’ve heard from quite a few of you in the last few months. Welcome! I’ll see you next Friday on the 30th of August, and then the Wednesday after that on the 4th of September! Take care and I’ll see you in the comments! Thanks for reading!