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monsterfloofs · 2 years ago

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Eldrich Creature x Anonymous Reader Part II (Sfw)

Humans are well known to be highly adaptable creatures. Sometimes being so adaptable that these new formed skills and adaptations are to their own detriment.

Things learned in childhood or in other relationships, skills used to survive toxic environments become coded into their brains and their very bodies.

Such wiring can be hard to unlearn, but humans are able to forge new pathways and rewrite their own brains if they are determined enough. They learn, grow and adapt to new surroundings and new knowledge. Bodies forming resistance to new and alien pathogens. Under the right circumstances, humans can even grow accustomed to dangers that surround them, the first wave of panic and alarm dulling to acceptance and normalcy. Old knowledge being surpassed by new.

The strange sickness that seeped into your very core, had ebbed. The nosebleeds had stopped, the strange dreams and figures that danced beneath your eyelids almost forgotten.

Almost.

There was a voice in your head that cut through the other noise in your mind with astounding clarity.

It sounded less and less fragmented as each day went by.

The thoughts that filtered through your mind with this voice, spoke profoundly, talking about the things you’ve seen and learned. Talking of lessons you needed to hold close to you, until the time was right.

For what that waiting watchfulness meant, you did not know, the only thing you truly did understand was that this voice was not your own.

It was someone else, something else, that saw the world behind your eyes.

As soon as the nausea and nosebleeds slowed down enough that you felt safe to drive, you went to the emergency room. By the time you scheduled an appointment with your doctor the symptoms were all but gone.

Unexplainable, and now unobservable.

Trying to explain these sensations, thoughts and feelings that weren't your own, you had been given medicine that made you sick. Sicker than you had felt without them, and eventually you stopped taking the medicine altogether. Pills left abandoned in their bottles, you felt like you should visit the police station so they can be disposed of properly.

"You're not fighting me anymore,"

Your hand pauses, fingers barely alighted on the handle of your watering can. The voice sounded so close, it made your inner ears tingle.

Eyes shift from the can in the sink, a dim haze, the room darkening slightly, but enough to be noticable.

. . .Who said I stopped fighting?

You hefted the watercan into your arms and turned on your heels, walking past a large shadowy form. Billowing snakey tendrils writhing in the silent breeze.

"You still do not look at me."

You keep your head focused on your work, hands trembling slightly as you tip the nozzle of the can.

"Tending to the flowers again," The voice murmured, "When you feel as though your life is out of control, you turn your attention to others, gifts for friends, your plants–"

You jerk your hands suddenly, and the can bounces off the table laden with plants. The water cascading onto the floor. You can feel your socks soaking up the puddle creeping around your feet.

Breathe in for 4 seconds

Hold for 4 seconds

Exhale for 4 seconds

You feel your chest rise and fall. Crouching down to pick up the can. When you turn you find that the shadow has engulfed the kitchen. Many smoky spidery hands gripping the walls, as if to bar your path. Its fingers spidering along the walls, as more hands begin to twist together from the many writhing tendrils. The strange little twinkling lights rolling upon its skin in waves.

"You're not real." You mutter flatly. "You can't stop me from going into the kitchen, and you have no business telling me things I already know about myself."

"You're insolent," The being hummed, "You are lucky I saved your life, graced you with my presence, even gifted you a small piece of my being."

"Yeah, well. . ." You take another breath counting as you slowly walk forward.

4 In

4 Hold

4 Out

"You're bossy. And this is my life. And if I want to water my damn flowers I have every right–"

A hand snatches your shoulder and you jerk at the sudden contact. Your eyes flutter as more smoking hands rush towards you. You fall on the floor, kicking your legs out and tumbling down, down, down into black rivers of lights.

You find yourself suspended in darkness, your clothes floating up as if you are suspended in water.

A deep noise making you clap your hands over your ears.

"NOW LET'S US TRY THIS AGAIN STUBBORN LITTLE CREATURE–"

"No!!" You shout back into the blinking void of starlight eyes.

"I don't want to!!"

"YOU'RE BEING OBSTINATE."

"You're being a bully!" You scream at the top of your lungs, but your voice is small and frail to the larger being.

"Don't tell me what to do! Leave me alone– I just want to be MYSELF!" Your voice breaks as you scream one final note of anger.

A hand reaches for your wrist but you snatch it away. Hugging yourself protectively.

Breathe. . . breathe and return to normal, it will return to normal and whatever weird vision this is, will go away. You close your eyes and begin to count.

You feel a rumble of bass that ripples vibrations through your body. A frustrated sigh from the voice that echoes all around you.

"YOU ARE LUCKY I AM BENEVOLENT. . ."

You wince at the sound, hands sliding back up to cover your ears as you keep counting, keep taking slow controlled breaths.

You feel weight slowly appear back into your limbs, as you sink back onto the floor of your house. You glare up at the figure that is towering above you.

Winking twilight sparks in swirling waves of black.

"Whatever piece. . . that you gave me," You rasp, "I don't want it. Take it back."

"I cannot. I cannot take back my gifts."

"This is your version of a gift?," Your voice quakes, "I'm going m-mad!"

The figure leans towards you and you scoot backwards to get away from them, finding yourself in the puddle of water on the floor.

"Not real, not real, go away, go away–" You screw up your eyes and rock back and forth, beginning to chat to yourself.

"I am real!" Snapped the voice above you, "You are neither mad nor blind!" A hand grabs your wrist, and you recoil.

"If you believe this situation brings any joy to me, little creature, you are mistaken-" It hisses, "I do not wish to be tethered to you, just as you do not wish to be tethered to me–"

Twinkling orbs flare brightly as their form suddenly wobbles and shifts in an unstable twisting manner as you begin to cry. You clutch at the hand holding yours.

"What are you– do not– cease!"

You cry loud gasping sobs as the figure flickers and disappears, the form shredding apart into wispy pieces that smoke and dissolve. Their fingers the last thing to crumble away to nothingness as you squeeze the phantom's hand tightly.

You sit alone, as your breathing evens out, your temple pounding. You haven't cried like that in a long time. As your mind comes back around you blink blearily. Surveying the room before stumbling to get up and put on dry clothes.

You leave the watering can abandoned on the floor, and let the puddle of water evaporate on its own. Standing in the kitchen and staring blankly at the fire licking the bottom of the tea kettle.

"What. . . was that feeling?"

You tense at the voice and glance around the room, relaxing slightly as you see no strange flickering patches of dark.

". . . Hopelessness." You murmur, your voice thick and tight.

"I. . . see. . ." the voice mumbles back, as you feel its presence drain out of your mind.

You close your eyes, and take a deep slow breath.

The next day, you stay in bed, curtains drawn, covers wrapped tightly around you. You stare at a fixed spot upon the wall. You rouse and fall between sleeping and staring, shifting only every so often in an attempt to become comfortable so you can doze again.

You don't know what time it is, however the next time you awaken you find the creature beside your bed. A cool wash rag held to your temple.

"Are you. . . still hopeless?" The shifting being asks tentatively.

"I don't know," You answer after a moment of watching their form move. "I don't. . . really feel anything."

You pull the covers up higher to your cheeks, looking down to stare at the ripples and creases in the blanket.

"I am. . ." The voice hesitates for a moment. "I regret that you feel so. . . pained at my presence."

You continue to stare blankly, feeling the cloth gently pull away from your skin, the sound of water sloshes around at your side, before the cloth is placed back upon your forehead.

"Humans are adaptable." Mused the entity, "But fragile."

A hand raises to caress your cheek, the tip of a finger wiping away a tear that had begun to form in the corner of your eye.

"I shall try. . . to understand your needs better, small creature."

"I am not that small. . ." You whisper weakly,

"To me you are very small. This is just a piece of me, a fragment."

A finger traces your brow and you blink heavily.

"Sleep." They intone, "Sleep and recover."

–

Mind spaces were easier to navigate when sleeping. Especially with hosts who fought their others at every turn, like this one.

The human had fallen, falling from where they had stood above the canyon's edge. Looking back on watching the small figure plummet towards the ground, it was easy to see that they had been reckless.

Orthcursus had poked into your memories, and had tried to smooth them out into a straight linear manageable current. But your mind fought them at every turn. Jumping back to the scene where you fell over and over and over. The stubborn fighting turned to nose bleeds and panic from stress. It was frustrating, to be a small miniscule atom from their usual amount of power. A problem that would have been so simple to solve had become messy and weeping.

But the goal was not to overpower, the goal was to co-exist. To be a piece of symbiotic relationship. They had to put aside their pride and let things take its course. They had to set aside time to wait, and lie low patiently. First manifesting a voice and a small form. Then having to settle with watching and waiting in intervals. Twitching uncomfortably as lights shined into your eyes and you consumed strange ovate things. Which made uneasy feelings rush through your body and your mind became muddled.

What was this creature flushing through their system?

Then the strange non-food substances stopped and things seemed to quiet down. They attempted to communicate with lackluster results.

Orthcursus watches the memories fly past your mind with many eyes. Fingers wriggling their way deeper into your subconscious

Memories of you feeling sick with a cool wash rag on your forehead, the thing that they had attempted to emulate for your comfort.

They search for more comforts.

Sitting by the stove with your hands wrapped around a mug of tea while you wept.

Hugging stuffed animals close to you as you lay in bed.

Their form spreads thin, a spider of hands and tendrils, searching, poking, prodding. A search that pauses as you mumble something in your sleep.

Starlit eyes swirl as their form regroups to more solid state, setting down amongst the peaceful flow of your sleeping mind.

They must wait again, and attempt to communicate in a milder manner. Letting their frustration get the better of them, was a poor choice to make, stubbornness against stubbornness was only going to agitate the delicate situation.

They couldn't part from this being even if they wanted to. . . the extraction alone would engulf the human into their celestial form. They chastise themselves for such a reckless choice, and slowly it dawns on them that the feelings this creature has is slowly but surely spreading to their fragmented self.

♡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡♡

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar!ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ

#monster x reader #monster x human #exophilia #sfw

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reaperbabegaming · 2 years ago

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BELLE AUTOMATA CHRONICLE 1 - GAME REVIEW

Reviews can contain a few spoilers. Heavy, in-depth spoilers will have a warning.

Dev Team - Jellyfish Parade Romance Routes - 2 (GxB) Rating - Teen Available On - Itch.io and Steam Price - $19.99

Overall Rating 5/5

*This review is solely based on Chronicle 1

SUMMARY (RETRIEVED FROM ITCH.IO)

Aureve is an android, content with a life of weaving silk tapestries alongside her master--but when he dies, his family sells her off due to her being a rogue: a self-aware android.

Thrown into a new home of refuge for rogues, the newly freed Aureve must find her place amongst them and answer the question once and for all: how does one weave a new identity when the strings to the old have been cut?

Inspired by lore from the likes of Cupid and Psyche, The Wizard of Oz, Pinocchio and other beloved tales, Belle Automata is the journey of an android reinventing herself. Join Aureve and the others as they forge their own paths dealing with love, self-acceptance, and grief for a life left behind.

REAPER REVIEW

I remember backing the first Kickstarter for Chronicle 1, knowing then and there that it was going to be a good game…and I was not disappointed!

Fun fact: Belle Automata was the first game I ever backed and it’s all been downhill for my wallet from there.

I was immediately pulled in by the art, not only of the Love Interests (LIs) but also by the Main Character (MC) herself, Aureve, whom you can rename but I loved it so much that I left it (plus if you don’t change it the voice lines will say her name). Then add on the idea of rogue androids and finding your new self when you’ve lost everything you ever knew, this story became personal. I was there to help Aureve find the best her that she could be.

But what’s an otome without the LIs?

CAST

Romances for Chronicle 1

The Nightmare Prince (He/Him) - If scary name then why so adorable? My obligatory protecc character.

Victor (He/Him) - What can I say? I like an android with a hard exterior but soft heart.

Others/Future Romances

Zaffre (He/Him) - The flamboyant best friend (for this run), but is there more behind his smile?

Diego (He/Him) - Sweet, gentle, quiet Diego…he knows all.

Roman (He/Him) - The big bro that everyone lowkey wishes they had.

Klaus (He/Him) - A great doctor…if not a little scatterbrained at times.

One thing I enjoyed about Belle Automata was how it is being broken into Chronicles, so while we are introduced to all of the potential LIs in this chronicle (C1), we can’t romance them until later. I like this approach because it allows me to pick between 2 romances rather than 6 and I can love them in their own stories. This also allows the supporting cast to play different roles based on who you’re romancing.

For example, in my Victor playthrough, I became very close friends with Zaffre and the occasional companionship with the Nightmare Prince and Diego, while Roman and Klaus interacted with me in some pivotal moments. I was able to appreciate every character as they were rather than potential romances, something I think I miss when all romances are available in games. This also made me want to romance Zaffre in Chronicle 2 even though I had no inclination to do so beforehand.

It’s also clear how much effort the dev team put into this game when it comes to sensitive topics that the characters face, as well as making a game with a full POC cast with various skin tones. These things are very important to the team and that shines through in the game.

*Heavy spoilers ahead*

Now, I don’t know how I missed this but there are in fact 6 possible endings, and oh man was I in shambles upon getting the neutral ending. Although looking back it was still quite sweet and could still lead to a sweet ending between the two…BUT I WANTED THE KISS!

There are about 14 decisions after you enter the romance route and I guess I made 1 too many incorrect choices. I’m not sure what the range of correct answers you need to get for each ending but a lovely community member posted a guide on Steam which I will link here (which I followed after getting my fated ending because I love doing the first runs with no help. No matter how much it hurt my soul).

*End of heavy spoilers*

To my fellow otome players who like choice indicators or plus/minus systems after your choices to see how you’re doing…this game might annoy you especially with Victor cuz a lot of his responses could be to either or so it felt to me. But don’t let that discourage you cuz again GUIDE.

OTHER THINGS TO NOTE:

Aureve is the literal best MC I’ve come across and if you don’t love her…I have some questions.

100,000+ words of dialogue.

About 7-10 hours of gameplay.

There’s full voice acting! And I don’t mean pages of Narrator and a few character lines. It is easily 90% character voiced lines.

6 endings possible.

The community comes to the rescue with the Perfect Ending Guides (thank you!!!)

There is currently a Kickstarter going on to fund Chronicle 2 and 3 and you can bet I put my money where my mouth is because I need more of these characters. I mean after romancing Victor or the Nightmare Prince just imagine seeing them as side characters to other romances! You could see multiple different facets of your favorite LI!

Steam and Itch.io game links :)

Who are you looking forward to romancing?

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spacecadetspe · 1 year ago

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Nov. 18, 2023

Thrúd fought with Sun Wukong for two days. Betelgeuse won the bet. As such, she got to choose which guide would be assigned to Thrúd.

She fell to her knees, and I projected myself to her. “I condemned Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, to be imprisoned in a stone for five hundred years, because of the same behaviors you exhibit,” I said. “Congratulations. You have taught him something I could not.”

She looked up at me. “Hope… help me. I can’t stand… too much bleeding.”

I chuckled. “This coming from the girl who called out Death, himself.” I stemmed the bleeding, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“You see now what you should be fighting… Don’t you?”

“The same thing my father fought; his past, his shortcomings…”

I held up a mirror to her. “You don’t gain anything by comparing yourself to others. And by now I think you’ve noticed.”

She looked up into the mirror for a long moment. “Grandfather gave up an eye for wisdom, father gave up his past and legacy...what must I forfeit?”

“Everyone is different. You know Odin nearly killed your father?”

“He told me.”

“You know why?”

She sneered. “Defiance.”

I scoffed. “What a short explanation. Your father loved me enough to know that what Odin was doing was wrong. And Odin couldn’t possibly be wrong, for once.”

She shook her head and squinted up at me. “Isn’t that the point of being powerful? You set the standard for what is just and what is not.”

I shook my head back at her. “You don’t set the standards for others. You set it for yourself. I’d say genocide is objectively wrong, wouldn’t you?”

“Grandfather said the giants were an abomination, an uncivilized blight upon the realms.”

I bobbed my head. “That’s an opinion. And you know what they say about opinions. Having an opinion does not make you correct.” I stepped to one side of her. “The astral realm I introduced you to… it’s full of some of the most amazing guides in existence. Many of them are Jotnar. Like Surtr, who forged my sword. The Reckoning of the Ages. Mother does not discriminate based on race. It’s petty and stupid.”

Thrúd hummed thoughtfully.

I went on. “Odin could not accept that there was any other path than his own. And in that regard, the knowledge he gleaned only served to make him paranoid, manipulative, and violent. And in the end, that is the very trait that led to his demise. He will not reenter the cosmic cycle. Not like others who die.”

The arena where she and Monkey dueled transformed into a section of the Unalome, and Thrúd stood up, bewildered. I challenged her to take a step forward. As soon as she did, BG’s red aura washed over us.

“I just think back to what I heard growing up;” she said, “‘Power doesn't corrupt, it enables’.”

I shrugged. “Sure. And I can do anything. But WHAT does it enable? Your wildest dreams? Your deepest fears? Your darkest desires? You get to choose. And the real strength is in making that choice.”

“Peace isn’t sought; it’s enforced.”

I shook my head. “Peace is a careful balance of pursuit and rest.”

“You can’t perfect something without breaking it.”

“There’s no such thing as perfection.”

She scoffed. “Says the woman who can do anything.”

“And who said you can’t? Not me!” I turned to look at her. “News flash, baby, but I’m not perfect. Never will be. So why the fuck would I be able to create something ‘perfect?’ All I can be is ‘enough.’” I turned and kept walking. “Your grandfather thought the universe would be perfect if he could control all of it." I shook my head. "And as a result, I seriously doubt he was ever happy a day in his long life. There are days when I’m so anxious that I forget I’m not supposed to fix everything. That i shouldn’t care if everyone likes me or follows me, or wants to be with me. And the weight… it’s too heavy.” I stopped to wait for her a bit. “So some days… I’m just a human. Doing my best with what I can. And that keeps me humble. Puts a lot of things into perspective. Do only what you can, and let someone else bother with the rest. When I can carry it, I play dream regent… but I have a lot of help. I have people who really care about me… and not just because I’m powerful.”

I left her in BG’s care, unaware of what would happen next…. That only days later, she would come falling out of the sky, crawling toward my palace.

By the time Vassilios brought her arrival to my attention, she was being escorted by a platoon of guards.

I ran down to meet them, and looked Thrúd over. Her left arm was missing, and in its place was a shimmering iridescent prosthetic.

“What happened?” I asked.

“The red giantess… She took it from me… She said it was hers…”

I started healing her wounds. “Gullveig. That’s who you’re talking about, right? Betelgeuse? The one you fought earlier?”

She nodded. “Yes. She said if I wanted it back, I had to find someone named Elpis.”

I grinned. “And then she threw you at me.”

Thrúd nodded.

I shifted my weight. “Well, first off… BG is Vanir. She wasn’t born a giant. Second, Elpis is my aspect. The Greeks still call me ‘Elpida’. She is also an astral guide, like BG.”

She nodded again. “Father interrupted my battle with ‘BG’, when I called Mjolnir to my hand. Said I had become too brazen. We fought, then BG interrupted and she and I fought for three days.”

“Seems she made her point,” I murmured. “She is the Warrior of the Ages, after all.”

“She said I fought well enough not to annoy her.” Thrúd clicked her tongue. “More insult than compliment...”

“If I were you, I WOULD take it as a compliment. BG does not suffer incompetence.”

BG had told her she fights in much the same way her grandfather did, and that she knew why Thrúd had challenged Death. Instead of revealing the answer, though, she cut off Thrúd’s arm and threw her in my direction. “She said if I wanted to seek what lies beyond battle, find Elpis.”

I chuckled and led the part inside, and invited Thrúd to sit with me in the kitchen. I explained that taking limbs is a thing astral guides do when they notice something holding their students back, and called Elpis to meet with Thrúd.

Neither seemed to be impressed by the other. Elpis is willowy and delicate-looking, with long dark hair, and Thrúd is chiseled, rugged, and a bit unkempt.

“A fairy is supposed to guide me?” Thrúd asked.

I sighed. “Thrúd…. She’s an astral guide. You NEVER underestimate astral guides.”

“I didn’t underestimate BG…”

“But you’re perfectly willing to underestimate everyone else around you?” I asked. “You have a bad habit of attributing muscle to strength.”

I told her very briefly of how Hecate and Hypnos intended to use Elpis as a weapon of mass destruction because of her power, and that was five thousand years before she became an astral guide. It was a nice STFU moment from me to Thrúd.

Elpis was mostly quiet during the introduction, but I got to hear more from them the following day. Elpis was showing her new student around the garden.

“It’s too quiet,” Thrúd said sulkily.

Elpis harrumphed. “Are you so used to chaos that quiet threatens you?” She shook her head. “Literally threatened… by nothing!”

“That’s not it,” Thrúd insisted. “Have you ever been hunting?”

Elpis nodded.

“It gets quiet when there’s a predator around.”

The guide smiled and nodded her head toward the castle. “There is.”

Thrúd looked over her shoulder at the castle. “What’s she like?”

“Kind. Not the sort to show off needlessly.” She looked back up toward the castle. “You met Phobetor?”

“Nightmare god? Yeah.”

“He’s terrified of her.”

Thrúd harrumphed.

“Why do you want to fight her, anyway?” Elpis asked.

“You learn a lot about a person from how they fight.”

Elpis chuckled, then started laughing out loud.

Thrúd wasn’t entirely sure what was funny, but she invited Elpis back to Thrúdheim for a stein of mead. Eventually Thrúd got around to asking about my swords, what Elpis knew, and if she could wield the ROTA. But although Elpis answered her questions, she refused to produce the ROTA just for the spectacle of it. She expressed blasé disinterest in fighting Thrúd at all. But she had something else up her sleeve.

“How about a game?” she asked, and produced two wooden cups and ten dice.

“What are we playing?”

“Devil’s Dice.” She told Thrúd the rules, and then used the first round to teach her opponent how it was played. Then she decided it was time for a wager.

Thrúd offered her three best Einherjar, but Elpis suggested the stakes be raised. “Let’s be vulnerable,” she said. “Wager something of a personal risk.”

Thrúd reluctantly offered her two favorite ravens. “My eyes and ears,” she said.

“Very well. Shall I wager what you want, or what you think you want?”

“What?”

Elpis elaborated. “You want strength; real strength. But what you think you want…” She pulled out Thrúd’s missing arm and laid it on the table.”

Thrúd stood up. “Where did you get that?” she cried.

“We’re astral guides. We talk to each other.” Elpis sat back. “And I’m an aspect of the chick who can do anything.”

And so the game began. Thrúd lost in two turns, and threw her cup across the room.

Elpis graciously only took one of the ravens as a token of their contract, and promised to still teach Thrúd what real strength looks like. “Fighting isn’t just about crossing blades,” she said. “And besides, no battle is ever won. You never win outright. You just trade one battle for a different one. And we all struggle. Who are you to determine whose struggle is more or less valiant?”

“I am a chooser of the slain. And the best warriors never come quietly.”

“They do if they believe in you,” Elpis answered. “It’s why I mentioned Phobetor. He’s terrified of Hope, it’s true. But she believes in him, and truly cares about him. And she demonstrates it. And so, terrified though he is, he loves her.” She set her stein down. “I’m one of the aspects who formed the ROTA. I went willingly. And I still have a freedom I never had before. That’s what Hope gives that you so readily forget.”

#mythology and folklore #dreams #magic #trauma #tw death

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aspoonofsugar · 3 years ago

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Jaune: Zero to Hero

Pyrrha: It's not about why; it's about knowing. Understanding dark and light helps us manifest our Aura. Everyone has some of both.

Knowledge, Creation and Destruction all lead up to Aura. This is just another way to say that they lead up to individuality, which is something Grimms lack:

Pyrrha: They are creatures of Grimm, the manifestation of anonymity.

Individuality is conveyed through Choice. This is why Choice is the most important and final gift. It is symbolic of self-actualization, which is what our characters are pursuing in their coming of age story.

Jaune’s personal arc comments the group’s collective journey and marks each stage very clearly.

In which way does it happen? And what do these stages mean for Jaune’s growth as an individual?

THE IGNORANT WARRIOR

Pyrrha: Jaune, do you... know what Aura is?

Jaune: Psch! Of course I do! Do you know what Aura is?

Jaune is introduced as inexperienced and ignorant. He lacks combat experience and knows nothing about key concepts like Aura, Landing Strategy or Semblances.

His journey starts because Pyrrha shares her knowledge with him:

She awakens his aura, his very soul and later on trains him, so she helps his body get stronger:

In other words, Pyrrha is the one who puts Jaune on the right path to become a true “hero” and a “warrior”.

This is Jaune’s objective since the beginning, but he initially pursues it in the wrong way:

Jaune: I don't want help! I don't want to be the damsel in distress! I want to be the hero!

He is fixated on an idea of hero which is outdated and has its root in toxic masculinity:

Jaune: Cause this is always what I've wanted to be! My father, my grandfather, and his father before him were all warriors! They were all heroes! I wanted to be one, too. I was just never good enough.

This is why symbolically Jaune wants to be like his male ancestors. He wants to grow into “a real man”:

Cardin: Let's see how much of a man you really are...

And this is conveyed also through his Weapon:

Jaune: It's a hand-me-down. My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war.

Jaune did not forge his own Weapon, but he inherited it. Crocea Mors initially represents the legacy he wants to live up to. However, this legacy, instead of driving him, slows him down because he can’t grow until he remains in his ancestors’ shadow. Jaune needs to develop his own individuality instead.

In order to do so, he needs to grow not only as a figther, but as a person too.

As a matter of fact, Jaune’s ignorance is not only limited to the world he has stepped into, but also to the people around him:

Jaune: That's easy for you to say. You've probably got guys clamoring over each other just to ask you out.

Pyrrha: You'd be surprised.

He is so self-focused that he does not notice others’ feelings and hurts them unintentionally.

However, Pyrrha teaches him once again:

Pyrrha:Tell her exactly what you said. No ridiculous schemes, no pick-up lines. Just... be honest.

It is thanks to her that Jaune manages to become a better man:

He is even able to call Neptune out the way Pyrrha did with him:

Jaune: Then just go talk to her. No pickup lines, no suave moves, just be yourself. I've heard that's the way to go.

And as a result, even Jaune’s relationship with Weiss gets better:

Weiss: You said you were embarrassed at first. What made you come talk to me?

Neptune: You're looking at him. You got some good friends looking out for ya.

Because the girl realizes Jaune is not only after her money or her romantic attention:

Weiss: All my life, boys have only cared about the perks of my last name.

But wants to genuinely be a good friend to her.

In short, Jaune starts the story as immature both as a fighter and as a person to the point that he is considered unfit and annoying by other characters:

Glynda: I don't care what his transcripts say. That Jaune fellow is not ready for this level of combat.

However, thanks to Pyrrha, he is given the chance to mature.

Not only that, but while other characters see a weakness and a nuisance in Jaune’s ignorance and inexperience, Pyrrha sees it as a possibility:

Weiss: Jaune, is it? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?

Jaune: Not in the slightest, snow angel.

Weiss: This is Pyrrha.

It is specifically because Jaune is new to Pyrrha’s world that he is free from bias:

Pyrrha: That's what I like about you. When we met, you didn't even know my name. You treated me just like anyone else. And thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime. I guess, you're the kind of guy I wish I was here with. Someone who just saw me for me.

This is why Pyrrha feels she can forge a genuine bond with Jaune. What is more, the girl has faith in his potential:

Pyrrha: It's all right. I used my Aura to unlock yours, but the energy that protects you now is your own. You have a lot of it.

She sees in him what others do not and helps him develop both as a man and as a warrior.

This is well highlighted by the metal motif the two characters share.

As @hamliet explains here Rwby has several characters linked to the seven metals of alchemy.

The goal of alchemy is to create gold thanks to a process of refiniment that purifies the metal and has it go through several transformations.

The seven metals are nothing, but a scale that goes from the heaviest and most raw metal (lead) to the most purified (gold) passing through the others (tin, iron, copper, mercury, silver).

For a story, it simply means that a character goes through a process of change that leads to self-actualization.

In Rwby this idea is conveyed through specific characters embodying a metal (Ironwood, Penny, Mercury) or even thanks to metal motifs commenting a specific part of a character arc.

For example, Yang is associated with gold:

I am the golden one Who burns just like the sun

But Adam takes her arm away and has her regress in the scale of metals to iron. This regression is not simply physical, but psychological as well:

However, Yang re-affirms herself and moves forward. The first step of this process is to symbolically make her new arm “gold” again:

When it comes to Jaune, I think that he may be the character associated with lead aka the “prima materia” that needs to be molded into gold. Even if this is not true, metal is at least definately still a motif in his arc, as it is in Pyrrha’s. This is why both characters wear metal armors, differently from others.

Pyrrha is already close to her self-actualization and she reaches it in the climax of the Vale arc, where she completes her (tragic) arc and dies a Maiden.

This is why her armor is gold, while Jaune’s is white and gray. Pyrrha is at the top of the metal scale and close to the end of her journey, while Jaune is respectively at the very bottom and at the very beginning.

He is the embodyment of the prima materia that has potential for greatness, but only if he is rightly guided and if he himself works hard.

Pyrrha takes over herself the duty to help Jaune mold himself.

This is underlined also by Pyrrha’s semblance:

Pyrrha: Well, Ruby has her speed, you have your glyphs. My Semblance is polarity.

Pyrrha can control and bend metals and she shows her power for the first time when she helps Jaune against the Ursa, so that he can overcome his self-issues.

So, Jaune starts the story as the lead and is going through a path of self-refinement which will lead him to become gold, so more similar to Pyrrha herself.

Pyrrha offers him the basic knowledge to start this journey, but unluckily leaves him too soon and now Jaune has to move forward on his own.

THE CREATIVE AVENGER

Pyrrha: I want you to know that I'm just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune.

Even after Pyrrha’s death, this stays true:

Blacksmith: That was some fine metal you brought me. Accents the white nicely. Where'd you get it from?

Pyrrha has become a part of Jaune.

This is a recurring motif in Rwby:

Penny: I won’t be gone, I’ll be part of you.

It is the idea that grieving is a process that leads to acceptance, but also to integration with a lost one. It is a way to have the deceased keep on living through the survivors.

In Jaune and Pyrrha’s case, this is conveyed through Pyrrha’s metal being used to enrich Jaune’s Weapon.

As stated by Ruby:

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Weapons are symbolic of the self, just like Semblances.

What is more, Weapons and Semblances are also a declination of the dychotomy of body and soul, presented by the series.

Weapons are wielded by bodies, while Semblances are a materialization of the soul.

In other words, Pyrrha’s gold becoming a part of Jaune’s Weapon is symbolic of Jaune’s first step in a painful process that will lead him to overcome his partner’s death and to inherit Pyrrha’s legacy.

Jaune must keep on learning from Pyrrha and become more like her. As noted by @hamliet, this is symbolized also by Jaune’s design aquiring more golden details as he goes on in his journey:

Jaune: Guess I was going to grow out of it eventually.

Ren: A sign of progress.

Jaune: Progress.

That said, grieving is not easy and Jaune must struggle with much pain and negative feelings.

This is why the changes he makes to Crocea Mors are finalized to increase its attack power:

It is because Jaune feels anger over Pyrrha’s death and wants revenge.

In the Battle of Haven he gives in to his fury and tries to kill Cinder. He is trying to superficially imitate Pyrrha’s sacrifice:

Jaune: If I die buying them time, then it's worth it. They're the ones that matter.

However, he is not doing it out of bravery or necessity, but out of recklessness and self-hate. This is why his actions lead to this:

Once again, Jaune risks to lose another loved one:

Jaune: No, no, no, no, not again! Weiss, c'mon, please!!

However, this time he is able to save Weiss thanks to his Semblance:

Jaune: My Semblance?

Nora: How else do you think you're healing her, dummy?

Jaune gives up on using his Weapon to fight and chooses to use his Semblance to cure. He chooses soul over body and Creation over Destruction.

At the same time, Jaune’s activation of his Semblance is meaningful on two levels:

Jaune: No. I don't think I'm healing her. Our Aura heals our bodies. It feels... it feels more like I'm using my Aura to amplify hers!

Nora: Wait, aren't you worried about running out?

Jaune: Pyrrha once told me I've got a lot of it. I still believe her.

First of all, Jaune’s Semblance is rooted in the idea that people heal themselves. His power is not to cure others, but to amplify others’ auras, so that they can become stronger and can heal. It is about bringing out the best in others. It is a power fit for a leader, but also an ability symbolic of Jaune’s own process of healing. He can heal himself through helping others to heal.

Secondly, Jaune’s Semblance is in itself a nod to Pyrrha. Pyrrha used her own aura to awake his and Aura Amp is simply an evolution of this idea. It is not about activating others’ auras, but it is a power that lets Jaune share his. It also makes good use of something Pyrrha noticed immediately aka Jaune’s huge quantity of aura.

In other words, Jaune ends up acting like Pyrrha in the Battle of Haven, but not because he fights Cinder, but because he shares his gift with others, just like Pyrrha did with hers.

Pyrrha is a part of Jaune both in body (Crocea Mors) and soul (Aura Amp), but Jaune must still truly understand what this means.

He makes progress in Lost:

Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.

This is the essence of Pyrrha’s sacrifice. Jaune comes to understand it and chooses to make a similar choice together with his team:

Jaune: I think... I think she knew she wasn't going to win. That she might not come out alive. But... she also knew she was the only one that could try.

Ren: So she did.

Nora: Maybe we should too.

Jaune: Yeah, we should.

In this way, it will be as if Pyrrha were fighting together with them:

Nora: Pyrrha may not be by our side anymore, but we can fight like she is.

Jaune: And in a way... she will be.

Jaune tries to overcome his anger and his sadness for Pyrrha’s death in order to keep fighting like she did.

So, once again he chooses this:

Ruby: I wanted to protect my friends.

Maria: Precisely! It is the desire to preserve life which fuels the light inside you. And to make no mistake, it is light. Preservation is an extension of creation, or, at the very least, an enemy of destruction. The Creatures of Grimm were made by the God of Darkness, but your light comes from his brother.

He chooses to protect life and this is the essence of Creation.

Once he confirms this choice, he is free to explore Creation’s potential and he does so in the land of Creation itself, Atlas.

He strengthens his shield instead of his sword:

And he trains his Semblance:

Oscar: Nice, your recovery is getting faster.

This all leads him to become stronger psychologically:

Ren: Him on the other hand... There's no fear at all. I can see it, he believes we're going to get this done.

That said, Jaune starts meeting limits to his new found strength rooted in Creation:

Jaune: Ah, sorry. No matter how much I boost you, they won’t go away.

Jaune: Did... I stop the virus?

Penny: No. It’s still there.

Jaune’s way to move forward is to heal himself through healing others. Still, what to do when this is not possible?

THE DESTRUCTIVE HEALER

Penny: No… there’s not enough time to heal me…

Penny: But there is something you can do…

What happens in Atlas is an inversion of Haven.

Penny pushes Jaune’s Semblance away and touches Crocea Mors.

Jaune is asked to give up on healing her and to speed up her death instead. He is asked to choose his Weapon (body) over his Semblance (soul) and Destruction over Creation.

This marks the characters entering the Destruction phase:

Leaving Creation (Penny) behind.

For Jaune, this means that his own self image that he has worked so much to build and to make his own:

And that has been enriched in Anima thanks to Pyrrha...is shattered:

At the same time, he is once again put in a similar spot as Pyrrha:

They both become unwilling agents of Penny’s death because of Cinder (and Emerald and Mercury in the first case):

Pyrrha: Ruby, I... I'm so sorry.

Ruby: Me too. But it wasn't your fault.

Jaune: She's right. Whoever was on that microphone... they're the ones that did this. And we have to make sure they don't take anyone else.

So Jaune’s journey to integrate with Pyrrha, to understand her and her struggle continues.

What now?

It is too soon to say because we have yet to properly start our journey through Destruction and what it is about.

That said, there are two things that are worth highlighting. The first is a motif Rwby is following, while the second is a general theme found in many stories.

1) As @hamliet has stated in many metas and as I have written here, Rwby is an alchemical story. Alchemical stories are usually marked by three important deaths. Each death is symbolically linked to a color. They are usually black, white and red. However, sometimes there can be yellow instead of the white or the red. This is the case here, where a resonant death is the yellow death aka Penny’s.

It is a death that happens while the characters are surrounded by yellow:

And it happens through a weapon called “Yellow Death” (Crocea Mors’s meaning). So, it is really not subtle. Penny’s death is meant to mark an important passage for our protagonists, just like Pyrrha’s one (the black death).

2) It is common in stories that deal with healers to explore the concept of death as well.

The basic idea is that a healer is a person meant to cure. That said, they will meet people impossible to cure and that will die on their watch. This is an unescapable truth a true healer must live with.

Let’s highlight this theme is found in works very different for genre and culture.

Let’s have two examples.

Scrubs aka an American comedy about doctors deals with this theme multiple times. In many episodes the characters must simply accept they can’t save a life, but must still not lose hope and keep on living themselves.

Yosano from the manga BSD says so:

Her backstory explores the link bewteen life and death further since it is shown that a power that cures fatal wounds can be used to cheapen life itself:

It is too soon to say if Rwby will explore a similar theme, but the fact that Jaune, (the healer) is the one that has to speed up Penny’s death might be a very powerful and poignant choice. This is true especially because Rwby does not refuse Destruction (and so does not refuse death), but presents it as a principle equal to Creation (so as a part of life).

THE CHOOSING HERO

Jaune’s arc is about living Pyrrha’s death over and over again with different scenarios and outcomes. This happens so that in the end he can finally overcome it.

So far, it has happened three times and each time has been in the climax of an important battle.

The Battle of Beacon has him witness powerlessly to Pyrrha’s death (lack of knowledge and passivity).

The Battle of Haven has him saving Weiss (creation).

The Battle of Atlas has him killing Penny (destruction).

What is more, every time Jaune becomes more proactive and conscious of what he is doing.

In Beacon he has no idea of what is happening. He works with little information and things happen to him without him being able to do anything.

In Haven his actions lead to Weiss being in danger, but he manages to save her. That said, he does not do it consciously. He unlocks his Semblance because of emotional stress. It is an unconscious choice and not a conscious one.

In Atlas he makes a specific conscious choice, but it is a choice that is forced on him because of external circumstances. It is also a choice that is meant to challenge and temporally break him.

In other words, he is slowly and painfully approaching Choice aka self-actualization. Right now, he has to face the consequences of Penny’s death, but this will probably lead him to finally enter the Choice stage and to complete his arc by becoming a “hero” aka gold (probably).

At the same time, this final choice will also be about healing and overcoming grief. It will be the final integration with Pyrrha and him being able to honor her legacy.

After all, we have been told from the beginning what Pyrrha’s fate would have been. We’ve just failed to notice:

Pyrrha: For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.

June and Pyrrha’s bond is eternal and she is meant to be the key character in Jaune’s arc. It is only through confronting and finally overcoming her loss that Jaune can finally self actualize and become the person Pyrrha has always known he could be. Pyrrha will symbolically be with him in this struggle. Her memory will protect and inspire him.

#rwby #rwby meta #jaune arc #arkos #rwby arkos #pyrrha nikos #tw: penny's death #jaune x pyrrha #my meta

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husbandomail-archive · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there. Can you do some parent headcanons for the Pokémon game rivals, please?

I can’t believe I somehow didn’t see this, stuff like this is my JAM

I know Wally was given a Gallade for the remakes but I still associate him with Gardevoir so he gets Both

Blue:

Blue has always had his eye on the future; although his main goal was to become Champion, he figured he’d settle down and have a family one day. He’s actually way more excited for it than you’d ever thought he would be, and while the two of you are waiting [im]patiently for your first child, he puts himself to work building the nursery from the ground up.

You know Blue well enough to see the undercurrents of anxiety running through him the first time he holds each of your children; his shoulders may be tensed, and his jaw is set, but his eyes are gleaming with the kind of light you’ve never seen before. The births of your children are the only times you’ll see Blue openly cry.

Blue is well aware of the fact that he has trouble expressing himself and his more vulnerable emotions; because of that, he’s very pointed about setting aside quality time with the children whenever possible. Helping with homework, traveling to find a specific Pokémon they want, listening when they write stories or songs— he wants there to be no doubt in their minds that he loves them more than anything, even if he has trouble saying it.

Silver:

Definitely never thought he’d be a father. He’s clearly had a rough childhood and can’t stand his own father, and then his journey got off to a morally-questionable start; he just assumed he’d be alone forever, and although it didn’t quite sit right with him, he accepted it. So when you bring up the idea of kids, he’s terrified, but eventually willing to give it a try. That being said— he’s spent so long hiding behind his attitude, once the two of you do have children, he’s able to read them like open books. He’s seen all those tricks before.

In the back of his mind, Silver is always comparing himself to his own father. You’re constantly telling him not to dwell on that anymore, but he’s using it as motivation, honestly. He doesn’t remember his father even holding him, so Silver makes a point to carry the kids when he can; Giovanni was always enigmatic and vague, so Silver is direct in communicating whenever the kids speak with him; the night Giovanni disappeared tore Silver to shreds, and he’s utterly determined that his children will never experience the same.

One thing he thinks about a lot— he had to steal his starter Pokémon in order to go on his journey. Whether his kids want to travel or not, they are getting their starters legally. He’d never admit it to you, but he’d honestly be thrilled if the kids took one of his own Pokémon as a gift— that way they’ve each got partners who are already loyal and strong enough to protect.

Brendan:

Brendan is very shy to admit it, but he’s wanted kids of his own for awhile. It’s just something that’s been at the back of his mind for a large part of his life— he wants to be able to take care of them and utterly drown them in all the love he can muster.

A total take-the-kids-to-work type, because his own father did the same thing with him; you’ll just hear a shout of “we’re leaving!” from somewhere in the distance, and then the front door slams and your husband’s taken off with the kids on his Tropius’ back, and you’re having to shout after him that he forgot the lunches you’d packed for them all.

He’s going to be one of the more supportive parents; it took him a few years and an entire journey to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, so he understands perfectly as the kids go through each phase. Whether they follow in his footsteps and become professors, or follow in your footsteps and take the gym challenge, or if they decide to forge their own paths entirely, he’ll be happy as long as they’re happy too.

May:

May gets along well with children; although having her own was never the biggest priority, when it happens, she’s perfectly happy with it. She’s a sweetheart through and through, so the kids immediately take high priority in her life— she has no intention of setting her own dreams aside, but thankfully she’s got you around to help with fieldwork.

Given that she gets along so well with Pokémon, and hers tend to be incredibly mellow anyways, May involves them in raising the kids too. It certainly helps that, as a professor now, she can get her hands on Pokémon from all over the world; if your kids are so rowdy that you need a hoard of Blissey, she’ll do it. On the contrary, if the kids are so quiet that they can disappear with ease, she’s got some psychic Pokémon ready to hunt them down each time they vanish.

May is a bit less likely to involve the kids in her work; even though she’s not as rambunctious as her father was, she still runs into trouble while out researching, and she doesn’t want to risk the kids’ safety at all. They’re not allowed to help her with fieldwork until they’ve each become trainers themselves, and that’s a milestone they wait impatiently for.

Wally:

Wally was always nervous at the idea of having kids eventually— his weak health has always loomed in the back of his mind, and he worries that he’ll pass it along to any children he ends up having. Still, family is something he values; he’d rather start slow, one kid at a time with a few years in-between them, just to make sure it’s something you can handle.

Gardevoir and Gallade end up acting like a second pair of parents. They’ve looked after Wally since he was a frail child, and they’re both so compassionate by nature that it was only a matter of time before they considered his children their own as well. Gallade spends a lot of time playing with them so he can keep an eye on their safety; Gardevoir and his stronger psychic abilities ends up in more of a caretaker role, keeping track of if they’re wearing their raincoats when the weather changes, or picking safe-to-eat berries when they’re all off adventuring.

Family of all kinds is something really important to Wally, so he’s going to want to let his parents or Wanda watch the kids every once in a while, just to foster the beginnings of good relationships between them all. That also gives the two of you some consistent quality time together— he married you for a reason, and he wants to keep showing you how much he loves you at every possible chance.

Barry:

Barry never really thought about being a dad, not because he doesn’t want it, but just because his mind is always all over the place. He’s set such a breakneck pace through his life that it hits him all at once— you’re adults and you’re married and there’s a kid on the way.

When the children are infants, Barry is always shaky and nervous— he’s terrified of accidentally hurting them somehow, because he’s well aware of the fact that he’s not the most careful man. His Pokémon really come in handy, though; they’re all a lot more calm than he is, and Snorlax in particular is a valuable asset when you’ve got babies around. The two of you can set the kids on Snorlax’s stomach and they’ll just doze off right there; Snorlax loves the kids too, so he’s super careful about keeping them from rolling away.

He’s very much a fun father; you’re constantly coming home to find him in the middle of hide-and-seek with the kids, and then he admits that, uh. He’s lost one of ‘em. Maybe two. Please join the game and help him find them. Related— Barry has very strong dad reflexes. He was constantly tumbling around and getting hurt as a child, so he’s got a sixth sense for when the kids need him to catch them before they scrape themselves up too.

Cheren:

Cheren’s a nervous parent. Even now he’s the kind of person who prefers to rationalize his way through everything— that’s not something you can do with young children, so he’s initially at a loss. You’ve gotta guide him through the youngest years.

He reads a lot of parenting books and tries to follow their advice to the letter; Cheren has never been much of an adaptable person, so when that advice inevitably doesn’t work for his own kids, he’s at a loss. It isn’t until the kids are old enough to communicate that he finally hits his stride— he does work at the Trainer’s School, after all, so he’s used to working with children in that age range. The contrast in his fumbling behavior almost shocks you.

Cheren makes a strong point about being as fair as possible and letting the children have room to grow into their own people. He is a bit of a firm person, so if he’s not careful, he can come off as strict— but he’s aware of that, and counts on you to keep him from being overbearing. If the kids want to travel, he’ll let them; if they want to stay home and start some other career, he’ll support that too.

Bianca:

Bianca’s a pretty hopeless romantic, and starting a family has always been on her very long list of dreams. She’s inevitably going to spoil the children practically rotten— and she wants as many of them as you both can afford, so I hope you’re ready.

You’ve got a 50/50 split between the children; some of them take after Bianca, and are flighty and energetic but still oh-so-genuine. Others are calmer and a bit on the snarkier side, reining their siblings— and occasionally their mother— in as best as possible. It’s a fun dynamic on the best of days, and it’s also nice to have help, because you’re not sure you could wrangle everyone on your own at this point.

Bianca's an endlessly supportive mother— she was stifled by her father in her teenage years, and that led to her taking a few extra years to figure out what she’d like to do with her life. She doesn’t want her kids struggling in the same way that she did, so if they show the slightest interest in anything, she insists they get the chance to try it once. It’s important to have as many experiences as possible in order to grow!

To the surprise of nobody, N never thought about starting his own family; it takes him a very long time to heal from his young years, but once he’s had time to think it over, and you’ve proven that you’ll love him no matter what, he’d be willing to have a child. At first he only wanted the one— but even he in his twisted childhood had siblings, and he feels like an only child would get incredibly lonely.

Of all the men, N is probably the most involved when his children each get their first Pokémon; he doesn’t want to interfere with the kids building those bonds on their own, but given his innate ability to communicate with Pokémon, he feels like it’s his responsibility to help somehow. If his children were to inherit that same power, though, he’d be overwhelmed— it’s something that played a part in his being so isolated, so his kids being the same makes him feel less alone.

N’s instinct is going to be to shelter the children. His experiences with the world had been terrifying at first, and he wants to protect the kids as long as possible— but at the same time, he’s permanently aware of the effects that his childhood isolation had on him, and he’s determined to never do that to anyone else, much less these tiny precious lives. When he gets trapped in his own head, N leans very heavily on you to talk him through his fears and worries.

Hugh:

For the longest time, a family of his own was nowhere in Hugh’s mind— he’s a one-track kinda guy, and he devoted his younger years to his sister and his friends. It isn’t until the two of you begin dating more seriously that he realizes he absolutely wants children. Also definitely more than one kid— the more the better, but he wants at least two.

Hugh is a surprisingly adorable dad; he’s very attentive to both you and the kids, and it surprises you how easily he’s able to understand them or calm them down when they’re upset. It makes sense, though, given how close he was to his sister growing up. His Pokémon aren’t the best for babysitting; he ended up with a team of powerhouses, and you’re always a bit nervous when he forgets to put caps on Bouffalant’s horns before letting it play with the kids. Flygon is really the only one you let watch the kids, because it’s the most calm of his team— it’s probably better to use your own Pokémon, in all honesty.

It’s very important to Hugh that the children get along well. Whenever he thinks of his sister’s tragedy, it chills him to think that he was the only person who did anything— on the off chance that anything happens to his kids, he wants them to be able to lean on each other. Because of that, whenever there’s an argument— no matter how small or trivial— he sits everyone down to talk everything through. Moments like that are when it really hits you how much he’s matured too.

Calem:

Calem makes a point of being a very fair father. He was an only child, and his journey across Kalos when he was younger— and okay, his constant losses to you— taught him that he’s got some jealousy issues. He wants to avoid any of that between his own kids, and while he knows he doesn’t have total control over it, he really wants them to be good friends with each other as they grow.

He’s also the type to rely on his Pokémon for help with the kids; Meowstic and Altaria in particular are very good at babysitting and keeping them preoccupied, while Absol’s danger senses are just fine-tuned enough that he can head off any small tumbles or broken objects. Occasionally you’ll launch into a panic because you haven’t seen the kids in an hour or two, only for Altaria to lift its fluffy wings and show you that the kids have dozed off in its feathers.

Calem can, on occasion, be a bit overbearing— he doesn’t intend to be stern, but he’s always been on the more serious side, so it’s just natural. During the turbulent teenage years you’ll have to do a lot more middlemanning than usual, because the kids are hardheaded and he’s used to only doing things his own way— but after every argument, he’s determined to sit down and talk things through, so there’s no bad blood in the end.

Serena:

Serena’s very career-focused, so she’s another one who didn’t really think about having children; it’s not that she never wanted them, it just never really crossed her mind. But then again, she’d never pictured herself married one day either, and here you both stand with matching rings, so. . .

She’s always been on the calm side, so when the children are young and rambunctious, she can get overwhelmed pretty easily; that being said, she has no problem with being firm or strict when necessary. It always makes her feel a bit bad, because she doesn’t want the children to dislike her for it as they grow, but c’mon. . . you can’t just let them climb on a wild Rhyhorn, no matter how tame it seems.

Despite being the child of prominent Kalosian trainers herself, Serena’s pretty sure that she wants to keep the children out of the regional spotlight, unless that’s the path they choose for themselves; growing up, she was under a lot of pressure from people who expected her to be like her parents, and that’s why she took her constant losses to you so hard. She wants to avoid that kind of struggle for her own children, and wants them to know they’re always good enough, no matter if they win or lose.

Shauna:

Shauna is sweet and excitable and takes things as they come; she hadn’t really planned for children, but when they inevitably happen, she’s still excited to the ends of the earth. She’ll talk your ear off forever about what to name each child, how to decorate the nursery this time around, oh man what kind of Pokémon do you think they’ll all befriend—

She’s going to be a pretty relaxed parent; her journey with you and the others as teens was probably the most vital experience of her life, and she wants her children to be able to do the same, or find something equivalent if traveling doesn’t speak to them. Occasionally she’s almost too relaxed, and you’ve gotta be the one to tell the kids that Arceus above we do not grab Honedge by the hilt—

Shauna is huge on photos and preserving memories. Even if it’s not your speed, she’s insistent on taking tons of pictures at every major event, and snatching up a few trinkets here and there; as the kids grow, she assembles photo albums and scrapbooks for each of them, and they become the family treasures. She loves looking back to remember how each child has grown, and one day when they each move out, she’s going to gift them their books before they leave.

Tierno:

Tierno is another relaxed and fun parent; his original goals in life were pretty out there in comparison to the standard goals that trainers share, so he’s happy and supportive with whatever the kids want to do. He does drag them into dancing with him, though— he loves the way the kids laugh and shriek happily when he picks them up and twirls to the beat of his Crawdaunt’s clacking pincers.

Honestly, Tierno’s a pretty open book, and that’s something you’ve grown to appreciate when most of the friend group is shy and keeps problems secret. He’s an openly affectionate man who isn’t afraid to tell you that he loves you, and the kids never have to wonder if he approves of their dreams and desires, because he’s there supporting them wholeheartedly no matter what.

That being said— he’s also an embarrassing dad. The kind who can always be heard shouting from the stands during sports games, or who follows all the kids on social media profiles to jokingly post boomer comments on their photos. He has a lot of fun with it, because he’s determined to get a laugh out of everyone in the family.

Trevor:

Trevor’s own parents were absent for more than a few years of his life; his older sister effectively raised him, and while he does love his parents, he wishes they’d been there for the family more often. Even as an adult he’s still a bit timid, but he’s adamant that he’ll always be around for his own family, and that’s a promise he keeps all the way.

While he’s not super energetic in his own right, Trevor spent a lot of his childhood wrangling the excitable Tierno— a lot of that experience resurfances when dealing with his own children now, and it amazes you how Trevor is able to immediately connect with the kids and calms them down and decipher their meanings through their babbling. He’s never been a very intimidating person, and that’s finally useful, because the kids are never afraid to approach him with their problems as they grow.

Trevor’s honestly really cute with kids— he loves holding them while they’re tiny squishy babies, explaining quietly to each of them that it’s a miracle they’re alive and he’s going to take care of them forever. You’re constantly finding him asleep at his desk, having passed out in the middle of research, but with a secure grip on whichever child had climbed into his lap and fallen asleep against his chest.

Hau:

Hau is energetic and happy and loves his family more than anything— of course that extends to his own children too. It��s not difficult for him to connect with the kids, given that he’s still pretty childlike well into his adulthood; there’s more than one occasion when you tell everyone it’s bedtime, only to find your husband begging with the kids for just five more minutes.

While he does his best to be supportive, Hau does get nervous if the kids want to travel; yeah okay sure, the island challenge is a massive part of Alolan culture, and he helped save the world when he was a kid. . . but these are his children, and he wants them to be safe. He’s not used to being separated from family, because even on his own travels, Hala was a constant presence— in the end, he’ll let the kids go, but you’re gonna have to listen to his worries every night that they’re gone.

Alola is big on tradition, and Hau is no different, wanting to establish small traditions for your growing family. Unsurprisingly he focuses on food— he develops various recipes to make on celebratory nights, and it makes him really happy that the kids fall all over themselves for his cooking. Everyone’s favorite is the malasadas that he brings out when each kid starts and finishes a journey.

Gladion:

On one hand, Gladion watched his family fall to pieces, and he doesn’t want to risk the same happening if he started a family of his own. But on the other hand, despite everything, he still loves that very family, and treasures every moment they had together— eventually, after talking it over with you for a very long time, he decides that familial love outweighs everything else he experienced. He does want children of his own, and he’s determined to be better than his mother.

That’s a long journey, though; when the kids won’t stop crying, or when they can talk but still not communicate, you can see him getting frustrated. Still, he’s learned to hand the situation over to you when needed— and in turn, if you’re having trouble with the children, he wants you to do the same. The two of you are a team. His Silvally is a surprisingly valuable asset; yeah it’s got a few sharp edges, but it’s incredibly gentle, and since its trainer loves the kids then it does too.

Okay, Gladion never quite grew out of his edgy behaviors— he’s still a bit gruff, and constantly striking his weird poses out of habit. The children are both going to mimic this and mock him relentlessly for it. You’re going to come home and they’re all standing around brooding in the exact same way he used to before bursting into laughter.

Hop:

Hop is naturally good with children, which doesn’t come as a surprise, given that he’s still pretty childlike himself; he’s another one who definitely wants more than one kid, because the bigger the family, the happier everyone will be. He’s also very insistent that you both take equal roles as parents— neither one of you is going to be doing all the work.

Even if the kids never intend to travel, Hop wants them to get Pokémon at a young age; he grew up with Leon’s Charizard watching over them both, and he’d just be reassured if his own children had something similar. There’s a lot of Pokémon around Postwick that are good for beginners, but he’s also tempted to use his position as professor to get them each something really cool and unique, or something from out of Galar entirely.

Unsurprisingly, Hop wants his entire family to be involved in his children’s lives; Leon loves babysitting, and it’s incredibly fun watching both brothers interact with your children. If you’re lucky, your kids inherited your husband’s sense of direction— they love grabbing Leon by the cape and leading him around when he gets lost in the yard again.

Bede:

Bede doesn’t exactly have a good association with the idea of family. He privately grieves his birth family, who cut all ties; he still mourns what could have been with Rose, who clearly never loved him. The idea of having his own children scares him because he doesn’t want them to end up like he did. No matter how much you assure him that the same thing won’t ever happen, he just can’t really believe it until he’s holding his first child for the very first time— and then it hits him that he’ll do absolutely anything for this tiny little human.

As the children grow, Bede does his best to rein his temper in— the idea that these kids rely wholly on you and him is a driving force in his desire to be a better person. Given that he’s had to piece his family together from the ground up, he had trouble releasing his older Pokémon when he became a Gym Leader; this ends up being perfect, because his now-fully-evolved Gothitelle and Reuniclus are both powerful and protective in their own right. The kids will be perfectly safe.

Bede has very few mementos of his birth family, and while he’d never admit it, that does sting. Because of that, he’s another rival who’s big on collecting things for the kids— no matter what kind of things he can find, he’s determined that they’ll each have tons of things they can hold in their hands, tangible evidence that he loves them now and always will.

Marnie:

Marnie styles a lot of her parenting after how her brother raised her; she thinks Piers did a pretty good job, and she hopes her kids turn out happy with themselves no matter who they are. She knows she’s not the most emotionally expressive, so that’s really her biggest worry— she wants there to be no doubts that she loves her children.

She doesn’t have her brother’s exact passion for music, but she does have a little talent; she’s constantly humming to keep the kids entertained, or making up little songs to help teach them things like colors or the names of foods. And then Piers, the unstoppable uncle he is, goes on and makes CDs out of those tunes, and this is kinda getting out of hand—

Listen. If you think Team Yell isn’t going to be involved, you’re wrong. They might be hooligans, but they’re sweethearts too— they insist that you and Marnie go have a date night, they’ll watch the kids, and by the time you’re home they’ve gotten the kids in tiny lil leather jackets and matching accessories and you are absolutely not leaving them unsupervised again.

Bonus Keith:

Keith is a bit flustered— in his school years he’d made a huge fuss about hating anything romantic, and that nobody could ever be as important in his life as he is. And then he’d grown up and fallen in love with you, but still gets embarrassed about how he used to act. Don’t tease him too much.

He’s not the best with babies, purely because he doesn’t have much experience with them; the fact that they can’t communicate makes everything way too difficult, and some nights when he can’t get them to quit crying, it gets really overwhelming. As soon as the kids can talk, though, things become much easier— children do have their struggles while learning to interact and communicate, but he’s able to be much more patient when they’re able to make an effort.

Listen. Keith is a proud man, and he’s gonna be a proud dad. Almia has been pretty slow since the Dim Sun incident— meaning it’s perfectly safe for him to strap his kids into the baby carriers and bring them to work with him! And as they get older, he’ll borrow some training Capture Stylers for them to play with too, in case they decide they wanna follow in dear dad’s footsteps— listen, he’s totally being careful okay, don’t worry—

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sativaasiren · 4 years ago

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Kid

Relationship: Hawks x Reader

Genre: one shot, hurt/angst

Summary: A companion piece to “Tolerate It” from an alternate point of view. Hawks keeps secrets and lies from Reader while she slowly unravels their relationship. Based on the song “Kid” by the Pretenders (slowed version)

Notes: I wanted to flesh out the scenario I set in Tolerate it with a different point of view. Fic is best enjoyed while listening to “Kid” by the Pretenders (slow live version)

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*Kid, What changed your mood? You got all sad. So I feel sad too*

Takami Keigo was many things, but being unobservant wasn’t one of them. He could pinpoint the exact moment he felt (Y/N) pulling away from him. It was about a year into their relationship, he had been gone on a scouting mission with a few other heroes and was gone for almost 3 weeks. The mission required him to maintain a cover in public spaces, blending into his surroundings.

Hawks looked down at his phone absentmindedly. He had told (Y/N) not to worry but she did anyway. She was always so apt to forge her own path and make her own choices regardless of what he suggested, he loved that about her but they had fought the morning he left.

She had asked him when she could expect him home and what he might want for dinner when he got back but he was up to his ears and snapped at her, the probing questions hitting his patience just right. “How should I know what I would want weeks from now? I’m busy”

Keigo looked up from the paperwork to see her pained expression, and he had to hide how it crushed him inside.

“I understand. I’ll give you some space. I love you, Keigo, please stay safe”

(Y/N) backed away from the kitchen table and headed towards the bedroom.

“Love you too, kid. I’ll see ya later”. He got half of the sentence out before he heard her gently close the door. Keigo had pretended their entire relationship to not be as sharp with his hearing as he was his eyesight. He wanted to protect her and make her feel safe to do things behind closed doors without him listening in.

But he heard everything. He could hear the choked sob that came from deep inside her chest once she felt she was tucked away safely in their room, away from prying minds. Keigo looked back down at the papers scattered around and shoved them off the table.

Hawks was mad at himself. He could feel himself hurting you but was not fully able to stop himself. He wanted to be your protector but it was easier to cut himself off from someone like her, who loved him. Keigo never felt deserving of your love and was quick to show you, prove he was right.

Shaking his head, he returned to the present moment. His phone had been silent since he left, the fight between them laying thick in the air. Keigo found solace being stuck on a mission in a bar right now, and while he was techinically off the clock, he could drown his sorrows as much as he desired. Keigo flagged down the bartender and ordered another glass of Jack, settling into his bar stool.

Hawks had since lost count of the drinks he had. Somewhere between 2 and not enough to get him cut off, but the room seemed hazy and the edges of his vision were softer.

A woman had sat down in the seat next to him and he was completely oblivious to her presence until she tapped on his shoulder. “You’re far too gorgeous to be drinking here alone but that doesn’t seem to have stopped you. Can I buy your next round?”

She was pulling on his jacket collar gently and staring up at him from under her lashes, eyes green and piercing.

Hawks wanted to grab her hand and move it off of him, put an end to her flirtation, but he wasn’t feeling strong enough to resist. He was still pissed at himself, and it had migrated to being pissed at (Y/N). Keigo looked down at his phone and internally announced “If she doesn’t text me in the next 10 minutes, she probably wants me gone anyway.”

Keigo looked back at the woman. “Yeah, another jack and coke. Thanks”

She beamed back at him, hoping that his acceptance of a drink was the next step in this seamless dance they were doing together. Her goal was to go home with the handsome stranger, and she was determined to get her way.

The bartender made Keigo’s order and swapped out his empty glass for the new one. Hawks took the drink and smirked at the lady. “Thank you for the drink...”

“Mami”

“Mami. Mami. Pretty name, I think it suits you” Hawks punctuated his comment with a long sip of his drink, enjoying the way it scorched his insides on the way down.

“Thank you....”

“Kosuke. Name’s Kosuke”

“What are your plans for tonight, Kosuke?” Mami leaned back towards him and resumed fiddling with his collar and fur around the jacket.

Keigo looked down at his cell one last time. Her 10 minutes was up, and he was decided.

“Whatever you want them to be, gorgeous” Keigo sealed his fate and (Y/N) an unknowing participant in his game, was too late to change his mind.

When Hawks finally returned home 4 days later, he had changed. He had begun to dread walking through the front door where (Y/N) was probably waiting, eager to greet him and shower him with affection. It would take more than a small spat for her to break her pattern of love.

His stomach knotted itself while he slowly turned the handle. How long could he keep it a secret?

(Y/N) was standing 3 feet from the door, holding her hands together to calm her nerves. She was always afraid he would come home too broken for time to mend.

Keigo slowly walked through the door and he wished he was anywhere other than home.

“Keigo! I’m glad you came home safely!” She outreached her hands in excitement, reaching for him to come close.

Hawks looked at her for only a moment, making a poor attempt at eye contact. Something was wrong, he may be tired when he came home but this was the first time he was despondent.

“Sorry Kid, it was a long mission and I’d like to get some sleep. We’ll talk later”. Keigo shuffled past (Y/N) with his head hung low, refusing to allow her a look at his face. He shut the bedroom door behind him and Y/N was still standing in place, arms outstretched, processing what had even happened.

*I think I know. Some things you never outgrow. You think it's wrong. I can tell you do.*

Hawks had been home for a few days and had been no more forthcoming than he was when he got home. (Y/N) waited for him to open up about his time away but it never came. She would return home from work to the same empty shell of her boyfriend.

(Y/N) would clean to calm her anxiety, it helped her process her feelings while keeping her focused on a mundane task. Keigo was in the shower and she toiled away on the dishes when a chime sounded from the kitchen. (Y/N) turned the water off and headed towards the sound, assuming it was her phone but she was wrong. On the screen, the notification read:

“1 NEW TEXT MESSAGE: FROM MAMI”

(Y/N) fought the urge to snoop through his phone, but she felt her stomach sink and knew there were very few explanations for why another girl would be texting Keigo. (Y/N) locked the phone to dim the screen and resumed the dishes, stuck on an internal panic that she couldn’t stop. Who was Mami?

Keigo returned to the living room in only a towel, choosing to not acknowledge (Y/N) and heading directly for his phone. (Y/N) was standing over the sink, gripping the basis and trying to steel herself for what she was about to do.

“Who’s Mami?”

Hawks froze in his tracks, staring through your back. What did she say? “There’s no way she figured me out in 4 days. Not possible” he mulled to himself.

After an extended pause used to prep his trail of lies, he started to answer “Mami was another person I worked with on my mission. She was the eyes on the inside. Nothing to worry about”

(Y/N) turned around to face him, eyes growing reflective and watery. She refused to cry to him, reveal her jealousy and her insecurity but it was impossible to hold back everything she was feeling at the same time, one emotion had to leak through the cracks in her wall.

“Is that all?”

*How can I explain. When you don't want me to.*

Keigo nodded slowly. “I love you Kid. You don’t need to worry about me. It’s only ever been you”

(Y/N) grimaced and turned back towards the sink, choosing to believe Keigo over risking losing the one she loved. She kept quiet, softly scrubbing the plates in front of her.

The guilt sank deeper into his bones. He was too far in now, he could never go back. Was this the right choice? He loved her but Hawks knew that what they had came with a fast expiration date, it didn’t matter what they did, it would end.

*Kid, My only kid. You look so small. You've gone so quiet.*

The days felt longer when they didn’t speak to fill the silence. (Y/N) only spoke a fraction of the time she used to. Mostly her repetitive questions about dinner, when he was leaving, would they spend time together before he left. It was what wasn’t being said that sat in the air. If neither of them touched the subject, they could pretend it didn’t exist and they would have to shatter the illusion they were intent on living.

*I know you know what I'm about. I won't deny it.*

Months went on following the new norm. Hawks went away for weeks at a time, distance himself while he was gone, and returned home drunk when he finally decided to go home. (Y/N) was just as doting and loving as she always had been, she refused to give into the dark cloud that hovered in her head. It took all of her inner strength to not ask him where he was and who with upon his arrival. Why ask him if he was going to lie anyway? What good would it do?

Keigo had been playing charades his entire life, this was no different, but (Y/N) could throw a curveball into his web and tear a hole in it with a single question. The more he lied, the more she pieced together why. Some nights, it was too hard to lie to her. To give her the comfort she was so craving. After about 4 drinks, his softness rotted away and all that remained was his sandpaper exterior.

Hawks had come home late one night, a bit weak on his feet but still mobile. He was drunk, and only the door frame was holding him upright.

He stumbled his way to the kitchen table and dropped into the chair, groaning and nursing a headache.

(Y/N) stood in the hallway, watching him from afar. He caused quite a ruckus trying to come inside and it had interrupted her reading. She was worried, and she wanted to bring him a glass of water and some medicine. (Y/N) didn’t hesitate this time, she loved taking care of him, and it would take a lot more than deception to break her love for him.

She walked past him to the cabinet and took out a small glass. Filling it up at the sink, she set it down in front of him and went to the medicine cabinet to grab him something for his pain. (Y/N) returned and gently set the pills next to the glass.

Hawks reached over and grabbed them from the table, grazing his hand against hers. Something inside him snapped, she was warm and he had forgotten, and soon she will be gone. His eyes went dark and he smirked at the glass of water, reaching for it and popping the pills into his mouth.

“Thanks Kid.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Keigo shut his eyes and stopped breathing for a moment. He knew he was going to be backed in a corner but he couldn’t take any more time to process without making the situation worse.

“Yeah, what?”

“Do you even miss me when you’re gone doing God knows what?”. (Y/N)’s voice was cold and seeping with anger. She had surprised herself, not expecting for that choice of words and tones to leave the confines of her mind.

Keigo opened his mouth like he was laughing but no sound came out. He was pissed at and for no valid reasons. She was asking him something she earned the right to ask but he was mad she was doubting him. The hypocrisy of his thoughts didn’t go unnoticed but he started to speak before he was finished. Time’s up.

“Only sometimes”

(Y/N) flinched like she had been hit. She reached her fingers out towards him and crumpled them into her palms. She would not touch him this time.

She slowly retreated for the safety of the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She barely finished the task before gripping onto the counter and crumpling to the floor, sobbing into her elbow in a poor attempt to hide the sound. Her world was crumbling in around her, and she still loved him.

*But you forget. You don't understand. You've turned your head. You've dropped my hand.*

(Y/N) stopped asking questions about Keigo’s alter life outside of their shared apartment. The answers were killing her but she couldn’t let him go just yet. She would need time to brace herself, steel against the pain in her chest, and leave.

Hawks could tell he was going to lose (Y/N). She spent their time home together in silence, wanting. When he returned home, she only held his hand for a moment and then retreated to the kitchen, finishing dinner.

Keigo stopped sleeping. Who knew that this choice in the vats of many would be the one to kill him and keep him awake. (Y/N) was asleep soundly beside him, curled into a ball, and he watched her breathe. Hawks reached out a finger and gently brushed her arm, stroking in straight lines from shoulder to elbow. “If this was a different life, and I was a different man, we could have been perfect. But I can’t be who you need.” He whispered to himself, barely audible.

*All my sorrows. All my blues. All my sorrows.

Hawks kept drinking and every time he got drunk, he would black out and go home with someone. He had lost count of how many women or men it had been so far. Anything to numb how he felt inside. Keigo never thought he would be deserving of love and he was out to prove it.

(Y/N) had been packing in small amounts. Drawers that he never used, boxes from under their bed, things tucked in the back of the closet. She slowly packed pieces of her life away and traveled them to her new apartment. It wasn’t far from where you were and made it easy to smuggle out her belongings. (Y/N) wanted to leave but she needed time to do it.

Hawks noticed things going missing when the books on the shelves seemed fewer. Then he started pacing around the house while (Y/N) worked, searching for what was gone. After discovering that more of her things were gone than remained, it dawned on him where this was headed. She’s going to leave soon. I made her leave.

*Full of grace, you cover your face.*

Keigo returned home drunk once again but this time (Y/N) didn’t seem as cold as she had been. She was red in the face, flushed, and trembling slightly.

“Keigo, I made dinner if you’re hungry?”

Keigo looked over at her on the way to the couch, but it overwhelmed him. He needed to get the hell out of there fast.

“I’m only home for a few minutes before i’m going back out. I have plans”.

“Oh okay, I was hoping to spend time with you today. Maybe later then?” (Y/N)’s voice cracked when she got to later then, it was a piss poor attempt at courage but it was all she was capable of.

Keigo didn’t reply, just exhaled loudly. He was tired of playing games and lying to you but it had to be done. Hawks sat up when his phone started to buzz on the coffee table. He snagged it up and looked at the message lightning fast and made his way back to the front door.

You shakily reached out towards his back and retracted your hand before he saw. “I love you, Keigo. Please be safe”

Keigo slowly smiled at you and replied with his usual comment. “Love you too, kid. I’ll see ya later”

Keigo rushed out the door and into the alley near their house, hoping for privacy. Once he was midway through and in the darkest part of the alley, he punched the wall and threw his phone into the cement. I love her and I made her leave me. Hawks started to break down, holding his face in his hands and crying. “I wanted to love you but I was kidding myself. I don’t know how to be the man you need me to be.”. Keigo shook his head violently and jumped off for a flight to somewhere, anywhere but this neighborhood. It all reminded him of you.

*Kid. Precious kid. Your eyes are blue but you won't cry I know. Angry tears are too dear. You won't let them go.*

Keigo came home late that night, sneaking into his house quietly. He made his way to your bedroom and saw your sleeping form in bed. Hawks couldn’t bear sleeping next to you tonight when he was still raw from earlier. He slipped off his jacket and boots and curled up on the small loveseat you had by the window. It smelled like (Y/N) and lulled him to sleep.

Keigo woke up when he heard movement. He opened one eye to see the bed empty and the house dark. He closed his eye again and squeezed them shut. It’s today.

Time moved slow while he waited to hear the door open and shut, shutting you out of his life forever. His eyes closed, he pictured your face on your first flight with him, full of joy and excitement. Keigo saw that light drain out of you, and he was to blame. This would sit heavy on his soul for the rest of days.

He heard a soft squeak at the doorway and knew you were standing there.

“I love you, Keigo. Please be safe”. (Y/N) whispered.

Keigo listened for her receding footsteps and heard the click of the front door lock. He stared up at the ceiling, cursing himself.

“Love you too, Kid. I’ll see ya later”. Keigo whispered to the empty room, wide awake. She was gone, and he was alone.

#reader insert fanfiction #fanfiction #hawks hurt #hawks fanfic #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #hawks x reader

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headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne · 4 years ago

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Bloodborne Chain Game

The first chain has been completed! The original prompt has been the following:

Eileen or Djura's thoughts and feelings after they have decided to leave the Hunter's Dream. Please look at the completed art and fics under the cut and be sure to check the writers/artists out:

@thefatladysang The moon rises, silvery light dancing upon the field blanketed in white flowers below. Its surface is cracked and pierced by the bare branches of the great tree as it reaches futilely towards the night sky. A soft breeze whispers through the field, sighing between the hundreds of graves that line the hazy edges of the pasture. From elsewhere in the dream, a gate creaks open and a woman in a feathered coat and beaked mask strides through, boots clicking on the cobblestones. She halts at the base of the great tree and looks upwards at the man in the chair. He wheels around, faces her, and a warm smile splits his aged face.

“Welcome, Eileen.” If the woman smiles beneath her mask, she doesn’t show it. Her voice is hard and clear as she answers.

“The little doll told me you were waiting for me, Gehrman.” Her voice, normally clear and tuneful, is turned harsh by some kind of agitation. The man in the chair nods and doesn’t drop his grin.

“You’ve been dreaming for quite a while my dear. Your strength and skills have become quite sharp and I’ve yet to see another Hunter of your caliber.” He replies as serenely as though the two were discussing the weather. Eileen moves closer to him, remains stoic and silent beneath her mask. Gehrman pauses and tilts his head. The smile drops from his face, but there is no admonishment in his gaze, no judgement, only curiosity. “Yet you seem almost reluctant to hunt the beasts themselves…” Eileen stops her stride, now level with Gehrman’s chair. She towers over him and briefly, she wonders why she feels so unnerved by little more than an elderly man confined to a wheelchair. She shrugs, tries to make it look nonchalant and uncaring.

“What does it matter? You’ve others who can pick them off.”

“But what drew you to hunt the others down in the first place, Eileen?” Even though Gehrman’s voice is still as gentle as a parent scolding a child, Eileen finds her jaw clenching slightly. It’s not due to shame or embarrassment of any form. She does not regret the actions she took back then. She’s positive she made the right choice.

“Beasts are beasts.” She replies in a clipped tone. “Once the plague gets to them, they’re little more than animals acting on nothing other than instinct. The Hunters though...” For a moment, Eileen remembers finding corpses of men, women and even children. Always they’d been torn apart yet Eileen could tell which ones fell to claws and teeth and which ones fell to blades. She remembers the baying and howling echoing through the streets of Yharnam, mixing with the high, mad laughter until the sounds blended into a single cacophony. She remembers a time when the feeling of teeth and claws tearing into her with animalistic fury was distinct from the feeling of a saw or axe ripping her apart and she remembers when that dissimilarity grew smaller and smaller until she could no longer tell them apart. Oh yes. Eileen remembers it all and she has to clasp her arms to keep her hands from shaking. She’s seen the beasts that threaten to overrun Yharnam. She’s also seen the slower, quieter beasts; the ones that hid and gnawed the hearts of men: waiting, watching, biding their time until the tiniest spark, the slightest provocation, set them loose to ravage the world and all those with the misfortune to cross their path. She’s seen it, bore witness to it, and the question still eats away at her, even when she squares her shoulders and answers Gehrman’s quizzical stare.

“When the Hunters go mad, whose responsibility is it to see them dealt with?” She expects admonishment, or perhaps a cold, displeased silence. Instead, the smile returns to Gehrman’s face, somehow wider and more brilliant than it had been before as though she’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. He shifts the blanket slightly and draws a short blade from beneath the folds. In all honesty, Eileen’s not certain what she should make of this new weapon. For one, the blade of the sword is thin, twisting, and it almost looks as though it had been forged as two separate pieces of metal that had then been stuck together. For another, it’s small, practically tiny next to the other weapons she’s seen at the workshop so far. There’s no trace of serration on the blades, or anything that would suggest a lengthening mechanism in sight. Such a thing would be ineffective against the beasts; no way it could tear through the hides or muscles of the creatures. Against the soft flesh of a human being however…

“I suppose such a burden would fall to you.” And with that, Gerhman extends his arm, offering the small, lethal looking blade. “This dream is meant for those who hunt the beasts, not other Hunters. For you, the night is nearing its end. And now, I will show you mercy.” Eileen pauses at this, fingers extended, about to take the blade from Gerhman’s hands.

“Mercy?” He brings his hands and the weapon back into his lap as his smile takes on a melancholic, almost rueful color.

“You will awake beneath the morning sun, freed from this terrible Hunter’s Dream.” He answers. “Free to flee Yharnam and seek out a peaceful existence elsewhere, if you so desire. Or, perhaps, you would prefer to pursue beasts truly befitting the Hunter of Hunters.” He tilts his head yet again, keeps his hands in his lap and awaits her answer. “Do you accept?” The blade in Gehrman’s lap glints in the bright light of the moon as though echoing his question. She wants to accept. She can’t see why she *shouldn’t* accept such an offer. *freed from this terrible dream,* he’d said. Freed from the dream.

If she was free from the dream, then…

If she could no longer dream, then…

“If I no longer dream, I won’t be able to return here should I perish, will I.” It’s only for a moment, but Gehrman falters slightly, as though he hadn’t expected her to catch on to that. When he opens his mouth, close to a minute later, Eileen nearly expects a lie or a half truth. Instead, he replies with frank honesty. “No. You will not return.” He leans forward, eyes piercing her. “But you will forget. The horror remains, burned into your memory, but even that fades. Should you flee Yharnam, you will come to regard the events of the night as little more than a bad dream after a time.” Little more than a bad dream. That almost sounded like the worst outcome to Eileen. If she forgot, if she could no longer dream, what would become of her mission? Her ideals? If she was to hunt the other Hunters, why would she want to leave the city?

“And should I remain in Yharnam?” Her own words give her pause; if she remained in Yharnam, not in the Dream, but in the city itself. Across from her, Gehrman answers. “Then the dream and the horror will forever haunt your memories until the end of your days.” He leans back slightly and the moonlight catches on the blades once again, throwing silver sharply into Eileen's eyes. “The decision is yours alone, I will not begrudge you either way.” For a moment, his words tumble over her ears and she almost asks what would become of her if she refuses, if she desires to remain in the dream. However, something stays her tongue. Perhaps it's little more than disinterest in the answer. Perhaps it's because she's come to know Gehrman in the long night of the Hunt and she knows that this is his request disguised as a choice. For a moment, the two of them seem almost the same to Eileen; both offerers and dispatchers of a swift, merciful death. And with a small chill trickling down her spine, Eileen realizes what Gehrman intends to do to her if she refuses his mercy.

It matters not. She's already made her decision.

Eileen steps forward and reaches out to grasp the handle of the short blade in her hand. Gehrman makes no move to stop her. She turns and kneels, but does not bow her head. She is not ashamed, grief or regret does not weigh on her heart. From somewhere behind her, Eileen hears the sound of creaking wood, footsteps over the hard ground, and the metallic ringing of another, longer blade being drawn. Her gaze remains ahead, even as the scythe looms in the corner of her vision, even when Gehrman draws it back slowly, carefully, she grips the handle of her weapon and remains steady.

“Good luck, my keen Hunter.”

The scythe descends and the last thing Eileen sees of the dream is the immense moon hung high in the east above the field of white flowers.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Light flickers across Eileen's closed eyelids as a strange warmth envelops her limbs. She sits up, blinks the fog away from her eyes, and has to pause for a moment before realizing what she sees. It hadn't been moonlight earlier, it had been the sun. She can't quite recall the last time she'd seen it. Slowly, as though moving to greet an old friend, Eileen stands and is startled when a metallic clang sounds from the ground beside her. She looks down, sees the glare of sunlight glinting off the small sword that had fallen out of her lap when she stood. In the distance, the bells of Yharnam peal as the sun climbs higher in the sky after what felt like a long night and Eileen bends and clasps the grip of the little sword.

"What curious dreams…" @dragonbasket

@palepious As the sun descended on the sky, disappearing behind the tall towers of churches and snow covered tops of mountains as if wanting to averd it’s gaze from the slaughter to come and hiding away until it was over. The city was painted in bloody reds, as if it was already covered in blood and flames, really made one want to hide away, cover one's eyes and ears and pray for the nightmare to end. If Eileen had been someone else, she probably would have done the same, but alas nights like these were the time when she really came to life, her gruesome duty becoming ever so important. Who would her prey be tonight? Which one of her former comrades and friends would she have to cut down today for public good? Whatever that meant at this point, after all Yharnam was as decrepit as a city could ever become. To be honest she wouldn’t be surprised at this point if her former rival and then partner would appear out of the blue to say hello and possibly bury a few bullets in her. Yet creeping through the narrow and dirty streets was as natural to Eileen as breathing at this point, having spent so long chasing after prey in the dark, one learns the city’s layout pretty fast. The few Yharnamites that crossed her way were smart enough to scurry away after seeing her, prolonging their pitiful life for a little. Those poor sods could hardly be called humans at this point, with arms as hairy as a dogs and limbs that looked like crooked sticks that a child had glued the fallen hairs of the family dog to it… and that beautiful image paired with the smell of unwashed armpits and vomit. Just lovely. Eileen decided to walk her usual round for nights like these, stalking the streets of central Yharnam and slowly but surely closing in on the secret pathway into Cathedral ward. She could just use the great bridge, but it was too much open space and was probably inhabited by some large beast, which if possible she would very much like to avoid. Like death incarnate she swept through the alleys, vigilant and on the look for her prey - though it seemed like tonight might be calmer than she had anticipated aside from diseased and crazed Yharnamites she encountered barely anything that was worth her notice. Of course, she cut the unfortunate beasts down that decided that the raven clad woman would be it’s dinner. But she couldn’t help but think that it was too quiet for a night of the hunt. Of course the villagers screamed their curses at the church and burned some mutt like creature that hadn’t scurried away fast enough. But the telltale sounds of the hunt that she was used to were missing. Where were the heavy footsteps? The eardrum ripping sound of guns being fired at a rapid pace, blades ripping away at flesh and the pained screams of beasts. Were there no other hunters aside from her tonight? Nonsense, it must have been because the sun hadn’t even set yet. Yes, that must be why. Soon enough she would hear Gascoignes roaring and the squelching of a poor beast that made acquaintance with the business end of his axe or gun. She hummed along to the faint melody of a melody box that played faintly from a distance while making her way to the spot she usually stayed at until the night unfolded completely and her prey came undone truly for her to reap. The dogs threw themself against the rusty bars of their cages, barking and yapping at her to no avail. One day these mangy and sick mutts might break out and maul an unfortunate soul, Eileen thought to herself while skipping over some barrels disguising the entrance to the overlook of the main hall of the sewer hall. Almost completely turned Yharnamites growled up at her, but made no attempt to get to her. Which in the end was better for both parties, they could live until another hunter showed up and she didn’t have to bother. The smell of incense filled her nostrils after lighting the small lantern she had stored on the balcony like space between looming the houses, overlooking the canal that led to Cathedral Ward. The sun painted the sky such a beautiful red, she mused to herself, too bad not a sane unsoiled soul could admire the artwork that the sky had become at this hour. Well Eileen could but that was beside the point. A screech, that was in no way human, came from the great bridge and Eileen once again was glad she used this route. Yet some poor soul would have to take care of that beast, but alas once the moon would rise the hunters shouldn’t be far. Steps closing in on her tipped the huntress out of her musings, with the weight of the sound she expected to see Henryk, but alas it was a hunter she had never seen before. The clothes were terribly inappropriate for a night like this and clearly looked like those of an outsider. Which matched the confused look of horror on the hunters face, oh yes this poor soul had no idea what was going on and probably had questions running out of their ears. But they had come this far so they were a hunter, maybe even one sent by the moon… the thought made Eileen smile in pity under her mask. “Oh, a hunter, are ya? And an outsider?…” @maskofconfusion

@lordmarble Ever since the Good Hunter awoke to the nightmare here in Yharnam, they’ve had chills crawling up their spine, like writhing centipedes, injecting their terrorizing venom through goosebumps and making their blood run ice cold. It’s not the hunt. They’ve been handed a weapon, a firearm, and a cheat for death itself. No reason to be afraid of a beast, not with the bloodletting teeth of their Saw Cleaver, and especially not with the dream they’re tethered to. But something is wrong. Something is watching them, and every time they look over their shoulder, nothing but shadows. A few beasts have snuck up on them before, but this… this is different. Sinister, even. Everything the Good Hunter has encountered so far had murderous intent, so why is this so…? Pulling their foreign garb’s hood further over their face, masking the overwhelming stench of blood radiating around them, the Good Hunter makes their way towards the aqueduct, as Gilbert said to reach the Cathedral Ward. But an out of place window catches their eye, hidden behind boxes and barrels, and their curiosity lures them to rotting rafters that they have to tread lightly on. Below them, they can see beasts and giant rats lurking about, and so the Good Hunter chooses to only look ahead of themselves. The wood creaks with every step, groaning with age. They let out a huge sigh of relief when they reach a deck jutting out of the stone walls. They spot an entryway off to the side and hastily make their way there. A balcony is now within sight, and there stands a person; dressed entirely in a black Crowfeather garb that reaches to the ground. A white, beaked mask rests on their face, devoid of expression. The Good Hunter hesitates, reaching for their Saw Cleaver and waiting for this person to react. Neither of them make a move. The masked hunter turns their head towards the Good Hunter. They freeze up, that sinister crawling feeling from before comes back full swing, striking through their body in cold waves. Their heart pounds in their chest as they find themselves choked by their own adrenaline. They hold their hand over their chest, steadying their breath. The masked hunter speaks, her voice smooth, leveled, and foreign in accent, “Oh? A hunter, are you? And an outsider?” The Good Hunter jolts. They nod swiftly as they ease up a bit. For the most part, it seems that this feather-clad person means no harm… But why hasn’t that dreadful feeling lifted from the Good Hunter’s consciousness? The feather-clad hunter shakes her head, her arms crossed curtly. “What a mess you’ve been caught up in…” The Good Hunter catches a glint beneath the hunter’s garb. A shine of metal like no other. The Good Hunter stiffens, and then… “And tonight, of all nights.” They whip their head around, eyes wide with shock. All they see is a flash of black and white, and just barely they fall beneath the swing of a blood-soaked blade. Another flash of black rushes before them, and the clang of metal rings throughout the air, like a foreboding bell chimed by Death itself. The Crowfeather hunter has locked blades with this new hunter. A helmet covers his entire face and a silver ponytail flows out from behind. Like the Crowfeather hunter, he too wears the same garb, its softness contrasted by the sharp, angled armor covering his legs and arms. As quickly as the monochrome hunters reacted to each other, they stepped back and rushed at each other in the blink of an eye. The Good Hunter scrambles for the barrels strewn about and hides behind one of them. They peek out from behind the flimsy barrels, and not a peep escapes their throat. “How many times do I have to tell you, Bloody Crow,” The Crowfeather hunter says with a level voice, “you were only to hunt those who have gone mad!” She jumps aside, narrowly avoiding a gunshot from the new hunter. The hunter apparently named Bloody Crow laughs aloud, laced with malice. It sends more shivers down the Good Hunter’s spine. They’re so shaken in their boots that they overlook the ridiculous implication that his mother really named him Bloody Crow. The Bloody Crow slashes his blade and nicks his opponent’s mask, “Ha! Can you blame me for going after such easy prey, Eileen?!” The Good Hunter’s stomach twists in shame. They want to scream and say otherwise, but each strike makes them flinch. Eileen dashes around the Bloody Crow and stabs him in the back, but not before he retaliates by firing his pistol as he turns around. The bullet pierces her thigh and she stumbles backwards towards the entryway. She has no choice but to back up further to the rotting rafters as the Bloody Crow rushes her with a swift chop, feathers go flying as they’re cut free from Eileen’s garb. They float down to the sewers below and become indistinguishable from the muck. The Bloody Crow pulls the trigger and fires at Eileen’s feet. It blasts splinters into the air and causes the wood to snap beneath her weight. Just before the rafters collapse into the sewers below, Eileen leaps for one of the many chained corpses randomly hanging from the ceiling, and uses her momentum to swing onto a platform sticking out of the wall. The Bloody Crow is quick to react and fires away steps ahead of Eileen. This time, the bullet goes straight through her shin… and she falls. Eileen stabs her Blade of Mercy into the wood and hangs on for dear life. She struggles to climb back up, and the moment she gets her hand back on the platform, she hisses in pain as the Bloody Crow crushes her fingers with his heel. “Why are you doing this?” Eileen growls between her teeth, “I practically raised you. I taught you everything you know! All I ask is one thing from you and you can’t even do that!” The Bloody Crow kneels down. “Raised me? Everything I know? Wrong, and wrong again. Stop putting yourself on your foolish, imaginary pedestal of self importance!” Grinding his boot into her hand, he grumbles, “You only found me on the streets after I escaped the Executioners, as an adult, mind you. And you didn’t teach me how to use my blood arts either.” “You would have died out there if I didn’t take you in. And who taught you how to tread without a sound when you couldn’t sneak up on a beast!? Who taught you how to throw a goddamn knife with your trembling hands!?” Then Eileen’s gets low, venomous. “There’s a reason why your sorry arse ran away from your people who needed you most. You. Were. Weak.” Angered at her words, the Bloody Crow stands up and crushes his foot down with the force of a raging bull. He listens to the sound of her phalanges snapping and her scream ripping through her throat with glee. He stays silent to take in the noise for a moment, and then speaks low, almost dangerously calm. “I may have been weak before, but look at me now, thanks to you. And I am grateful for that, Eileen. Truly. But I don’t owe you shit.” “You don’t owe me shit?!” Eileen shouts and kicks her leg in an attempt to swing back up. “You would be dead if it weren’t for me, and now you betray me because you can’t hold back your damned bloodlust?! How dare you claim that you’re not weak anymore, when you only go after the weak yourself!” The Bloody Crow scoffs. “It’s fun to see the fear bubbling over in my prey. Besides. I never wanted to follow your path as some mindless slave, bound to only killing ‘mad’ hunters. You should have stuck to that foolish oath and killed me the moment you laid eyes on me. And look at what you’ve done because you felt sorry for a monster like me, now you’re dangling above some filthy sewers where you belong, like the pathetic piece of shit you are—!!!” A Saw Cleaver comes striking down at him from behind, bringing him crumbling to his knees. The Bloody Crow’s foot slid off Eileen’s hand, slick from the blood seeping from her gauntlet. The Good Hunter, through that killer instinct that was once locked away in their blood, thrusts their fist into the Bloody Crow’s back in one smooth motion. He gasps, “W-What…!?” A spray of crimson goes flying along with the Bloody Crow as the Good Hunter yanks their arm out of his chest. He’s thrown into the sewers many meters below by the sheer force of that visceral attack. A massive splash follows, and the malformed beasts below turn their heads in curiosity. Breathing heavily, shakily, the Good Hunter looks down at Eileen, offering her a hand. She gratefully accepts and is hoisted up with uneasy arms. “...That wasn’t necessary of you, but you have my thanks,” She says between heavy exhales, “We barely made it with our lives. You’re not bad at all…” The Good Hunter looks down at where the Bloody Crow fell. He’s gone, a trail of bloody footprints climbing up the sides of the aqueduct. She looks down as well and shakes her head. “I genuinely don’t think you’ll be able to take him on as you are right now, so forget about it. He’s more vicious than any beast you’ll ever fight. I would know.” The Good Hunter’s shoulders slump in defeat. They then point to Eileen’s hand and leg. She sighs, “Oh, these? Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse than a broken hand and a bullet in me.” Concern flashes in the Good Hunter’s eyes, then confusion as Eileen chuckles. “I’ll just take some blood for now, but I appreciate your compassion. That is not something I see in Yharnam anymore. But be careful, kind acts don’t always end well…” After hearing that heated argument between her and the Bloody Crow, they certainly believe that statement. The Good Hunter merely shrugs in response, though. They turn to drop down safely to the aqueduct, but Eileen speaks again. “Before you go, I must warn you not to go near the tomb below Oedon Chapel. Father Gascoigne, an old hunter, has gone mad with the beastly scourge. And he’s. My. Mark.” Something glints in the Good Hunter’s eyes. Brimming with a newfound confidence, they hop on down and make their way to Oedon tomb. Eileen reflexively reaches up to pinch the ridge of her brow in annoyance, but she forgets that she’s wearing a mask. She also forgets that her left hand has been shattered like porcelain. “Argh…” She clutches it tenderly before reaching into her pockets for a blood vial. Eileen limps back to the dock where she was loitering about earlier. She couldn’t let her pride crumble in front of that new hunter, even if they kindly offered her help. She slumps against the barrels, sighs, and tends to her stinging wounds. Taking off her mask for a breath of fresh air, she clears her mind and muses to herself. That hunter, although they were trembling in their boots, saved her and went on to where her next target is. And, they went alone, knowing that the monster she nurtured isn’t too far away. She worries for their safety, but that confidence the hunter walked away with puts her mind at ease. Perhaps they will survive this terrible nightmare, or perhaps they won’t. Either way, Eileen has a feeling this is not the last time they will see the new hunter.

#bloodborne #soulsborne chain game #bloodborne chain

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blouisparadise · 5 years ago

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We recently received a request for enemies and lovers recs. We already have an enemies to lovers fic rec list here, but after looking at that list, we realized we had much more to add to it and therefore decided to make a part two.

Happy reading!

1) I Couldn’t Get Away From You | Mature | 5185 words

Suddenly in the heat of the moment, Harry’s eyes turned darker as he pushed Louis’ back more and more towards the wall. “Fine.” He plants his lips on Louis’ and begins to roughly kiss him, soon enough turning it into a make-out session.

“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis moans and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, hands trailing up to the taller’s hair and gripping that as well.

“We’ll see about that.”

2) There's More Than One Place To Call Home | Explicit | 8416 words

Harry never asked for much from his neighbors - he didn't care about barking animals during the day or loud talking during the night.

The only thing he needed was silence when he was writing. And that was the only thing his new neighbor wouldn't give him.

Deciding to confront the loud guy who lived next door, Harry found himself ringing his doorbell one night. And that decision just may be the best thing that's ever happened to Harry.

3) Make A Run, Cause Some Rebellion | Explicit | 8824 words

As a general rule, kitten hybrids are small and disinterested in what other people want them to do, slightly evil and at least a little manipulative. Louis prides himself on being all of those things to varying degrees, but especially on being uninterested in what other people tell him to do. He’s still human goddammit, despite his pointy ears and penchant for curling up in the sun and taking naps.

He’s going about his daily business, knocking things over where he sees fit and leaving a trail of mess in his wake. As exasperated as it makes Liam he’s used to it by now, having shared a flat with Louis for almost three years now, and if Louis whines enough he’ll even clean up after him. It’s a great life, really.

With the exception of Liam’s stupid, broad shouldered, entirely too big mate, the one who always comes over to watch sports with him. Louis hates that guy. His hair is always greasy and he brings weird hipster beer with him when he comes that tastes like shit. And he won’t even let Louis have any of it, either. The only reason Louis even knows what it tastes like is because one time he stole a bottle from the fridge and fled to his room before Harry could catch him.

4) Something To Prove | Explicit | 9425 words

Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

5) Where Do We Go Now | Explicit | 10617 words

Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack. The odds aren't in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha. Louis hates alphas.

6) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

7) I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) | Explicit | 20681 words

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

6) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23516 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

10) When It’s Late At Night | Mature | 25597 words

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

11) Supposed To Be | Explicit | 26100 words

The Geek Charming AU where Harry's a film geek, Louis' a popular jock, and they both need each other to get what they want.

12) Magical Soup | Explicit | 28850 words

Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown. Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea. As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?

13) Building Me Up (But Buttercup, You Lied) | Explicit | 31007 words

Harry’s mouth felt dry just saying those words. What he had with Louis was so much more than a simple ‘fuck buddies’ situation. It was slow kisses in the morning between soft sheets and shy smiles, it was holding hands in the afternoon while walking and eating ice cream. It was breakfast for dinner, laughing and licking honey from each other’s lips as they shared goals and even some secrets, it was happiness, it was glow.

To Harry, what he had with Louis meant everything. Until Louis decided it meant nothing.

14) You’ve Set On Me | Explicit | 31100 words

Louis' in an obscure band. Harry's an international popstar. Their paths aren't meant to cross, not like this, but when Louis' band signs on as Harry's opening act, both Harry and Louis are forced to confront the open wounds of their shared past.

15) Nicotine | Explicit | 32245 words | Sequel

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

16) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

17) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

18) Make This Feel Like Home | Explicit | 42032 words

The house on West 28th Street in London is twice the size of Louis', more expensive than the price of all of his house and car payments combined, and is falling apart at the seams.

19) Strangers in Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Why Can’t It Be Like That | Explicit | 63567 words

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

21) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

22) For Reasons Wretched and Divine | Explicit | 94655 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

23) You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) | Explicit | 102306 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

24) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Mature | 126056 words

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #enemies to lovers #hate to love #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs

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hilo--keahi · 4 years ago

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Tuesday 05 January 2021; 03:00. Your dream stops. The beings and the scenery come to a standstill before gently fading into a comfortable office space that seems vaguely familiar. You are seated in a plush chair across from a being you do not recognize. He is more attractive than anyone you’ve ever laid eyes on, but when you wake you will never be able to describe him. When you move your eyes from his, you notice your bracers are gone, and you think you can feel your legs in this dreamscape.

Hilo couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming before, lost in the immediate forgetfulness of waking that ushered the details of dreams quickly away, leaving only the static afterburn of images and wisps of feeling in their wake. He thought that previous dream was pleasant. This one wasn’t... not pleasant, but it was strange. There was a weight to it that felt uncomfortably real in comparison, but the more he tried to focus on the man in front of him, the more his senses failed him -- like trying to look sidelong at the sun, squinting and using the shadow of your hand to dull the edges.

Wait.

He could feel the press of the chair against the back of his legs -- a stupid, thoroughly mundane thing for anyone else to notice, but for Hilo, it was something he hadn’t felt for half a century. Hilo’s breath stuttered in his throat, startled and confused. He hadn’t dreamt of walking for a long time, longer than a decade or two. Even his subconscious had given up on deluding itself. Fingers splayed wide, Hilo brought his hands to careful rest just above his knees. No metal barred their path, no leather straps. Hilo’s chest tightened, but the man -- clearly more than a simple man, and clearly more than Hilo’s bland imagination could come up with -- spoke.

“You have fallen far, Son of Kona. The curse that plagues your legs was not one I designed to be used in such a way: in the search for power. When I gave your realm my art, I assumed they would use it to punish wrong-doers as my kind do.” There is a long pause, the atmosphere so heavy it feels inappropriate to speak.

A God-designed curse. More than one Emitter had told him as much, when they’d failed to be able to do anything for him. At the time, Hilo had thought they were saying so simply to spare his anger, or their pride. Who had cared enough about his ascent to resort to a God-designed curse? It was a statement previously asked with scoffed dismissiveness, but now it was asked again with all due severity -- only within the jumbled swirl of his own sleeping thoughts. This was not a question for the God in front of him, because a God was what he so obviously was.

Even as the pause stretched between them, Hilo focused on the man in front of him with an attentiveness unfit for the clouded realm of dreams.

“I was wrong. Those of this world…. fight for the wrong things. I have watched you and your Iron Master work on an artifact to bring you closer to normalcy. This was clever.” Another pause as he studies you. “The curse has plagued you too long for me to remove it without side effects, nor do I trust what you would do with returned power, but if your heart continues to impress me, I may help you.”

Only now did Hilo try to open his mouth to form words, but none came -- whether they were actively prevented or he simply couldn’t find them, though, Hilo wasn’t sure. His heart hammered against his ribs even as his fingers dug into the meat of his thighs, and he nearly startled himself with the foreign feeling of the pressure. Fighting for the wrong things, fighting for power -- Hilo knew this, had known this, deep down, for years, but only recently had it started to come into the sharpest of contrast. He wasn’t sure if this man was alluding to the same things, or if Hilo was simply making the connection that was most convenient for him. He had so many questions, so many things he wanted to say, but every thought bumped up against three others before any could escape his throat.

He was losing this thread of the dream, he could tell, but not like before. Even as the man in front of him dissolved into obscurity, Hilo didn’t forget his words. He couldn’t forget his words, even if he wanted to.

The dream begins to fade back into what it was before. The man’s final parting words were this: “I am Fuku, deity of curses and hidden knowledge. Do not call my name in vain, Son of Kona.”

Hilo awoke to find his heart still hammering roughly at the inside of his ribs, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Pushing into the bed with his hands until he could rest his back against the cool wall, he let his shoulders sag as he tried to steady his breathing, staring down where the sheets pooled in his lap. He didn’t have to settle his hands on his thighs to know he wouldn’t feel the same pressure he had moments before.

As with so many things, it was easier without hope.

For decades it’d been easier for Hilo to adjust to the use of his bracers and how they gave him his mobility back without the hope he might, someday, be able to move without them again. It was easier to accept this as his new normal, gaze wandering to where the leather and new, fine metal glinted in the dying light of the hearth’s embers, turquoise mana swirling pensively within the crystals.

Hilo glanced away again, burying his face in his hands to rub furiously. Just because it was easier without hope didn’t mean it would be easy for him to forget what he’d been told. There was no ignoring this message; he already knew it would occupy far too many of his waking moments, even if it never came back to him in his sleep.

Sleep didn’t come back to Hilo, either, not in those early hours of the morning. He simply sat and let his mind whirl with what he’d been told, committing what he could to memory as if it wasn’t already burned into the back of his mind.

It didn’t take him long to decide what he wanted -- needed -- to do next.

The hour was barely five when he left a note with one of the Dwarves at the end of their shifts in the Forge to say he wouldn’t be in today. It was a simple, cryptic, ‘something’s come up’ -- with what he’d been put through lately, Hilo imagined there were few (if any) who would challenge it. He’d been lucky enough that most of his coworkers were also his friends, and the worst he’s had to suffer from them are lingering glances of something akin to pity. Hilo was early enough today to avoid that, a fact for which he was absently glad.

Even though the first daylight was only barely bleeding up from the horizon as Hilo rode towards the outskirts of the city, he knew his cousin would be awake. Alamea had always been an early riser, and now, in her advanced years, Hilo was aware that the aches and struggles of her body had a tendency to keep her from proper sleep. Even in light of this she didn’t greet him with any less sharpness and intelligence in her eyes when she opened the door, though her surprise quickly softened to concern. Hilo was welcomed in without question.

It hadn’t been long since they’d last seen each other for Yeon Nen, so the chatter was idle as Hilo prepared a battered tin kettle and two cheaply made mugs. Ultimately, there was no casual easing into the conversation he wanted to have; the question was eventually asked point-blank, Hilo’s attention focused on pouring the boiling water over dried leaves and herbs. “Alamea… there are still parts of our family that worship the Old Gods, aren’t there?”

“Mm.” Alamea gestured to what they could see of Hilo’s tattoos as he set the mugs on the table between them, sleeves pushed back to his elbows to display rows of neatly inked triangles. The white pointed inward, drawing positive energy towards his heart. The black bled negativity away. “You wouldn’t have those if the elders didn’t still believe.” She paused, then let out a short laugh that seemed altogether stronger than her narrow chest should’ve been able to produce. “I say, like I’m not one of the elders now myself.”

It was hard for Hilo to view her as such, even as Alamea and the rest of his family aged around him while he stood more static in time. She was only older than him by a handful of years, but by looks, it was more like a handful of decades.

Alamea held the roughly-made, misshapen ceramic with equally distorted fingers, joints swollen with arthritis and skin spotted with age. She was piled in blankets despite the roaring hearth he’d stoked. Hilo almost felt silly sitting across from her, barely fitting on the chair.

“We’ve never really believed in the old ways, you and I,” Alamea pointed out, and Hilo simply nodded. “But I know there are pockets of our family that still do. I wouldn’t be so exhausted from Yeon Nen if we didn’t,” she added with a glint in her milky eyes, and Hilo chuckled before nodding again. “Why do you ask?”

Hilo wondered if he should feel silly, asking what he was going to. As Alamea said, their generation of Keahis had always approached religion with a softer lens; the traditions were fun, and good excuses to gather family, but the proper meaning felt long lost to the depths of time. He knew one dream oughtn’t change his mind so thoroughly, and maybe something in his resolve would soften with the clarity of daylight, but that didn’t change what he felt in his bones now as the dream lingered within his periphery.

“I’m hoping there’s someone in our family who can tell me more about a deity named Fuku.”

#solo: of gods and consequences #the sOUND I MADE reading this drop

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dreamingofscully · 4 years ago

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6x06. “How the Ghosts Stole Christmas” - X-Files Rewatch

I wrote a lot about this episode, I hope you enjoy! Really thought this one gave us a ton of insight into M&S.

Mulder’s excuse to invite Scully out with him - a haunted house. He just wants to spend time with her. He’s feeling lonely. For some reason he’s not spending Christmas with anyone - not his mom, not the Gunmen. Even if he was, she’s the person he most wants to spend it with.

Mulder does his very best to entertain Scully with a ghost story. He’s being very seductive, but I don’t think he’s too serious about it - just wants her to spend time with him desperately.

When Mulder describes Maurice (“brooding but heroic”) and Lyda (“a sublime beauty with a light that seemed to follow her wherever she went”) - I mean, c’mon, he’s describing THEM.

“Driven by a tragic fear of separation they forged a lovers' pact so that they might spend eternity together and not spend one precious Christmas apart.”

HELLO?!

Even though Scully has somewhere to be, Mulder’s pull on her is irresistible. She has a family, a gift-opening, many traditions that she loves to take part in, SOMEWHERE ELSE TO BE, but she comes to see Mulder anyway. She protests, tries to leave, but only because she thinks Mulder also has plans, has people to spend the holidays with. Scully loves a good story, and this one hits close to home - scary, romantic and tragic.

Scully’s long monologue about why fearing ghosts is irrational, what it represents. She’s thought about it a LOT. She enjoys the thrill she gets from fear but also enjoys being able to explain it, put it in a box, conquer it.

It appears on the outside that Mulder is being selfish on inviting her here, occupying her time on a date where she has places to be, that he’s being insensitive. But the opposite is actually true. How difficult is Christmas going to be for Scully this year? To be around her family and remember her loss. To spend time with her nephew and having to hide her sorrow at the child she barely knew that was taken from her. To be expected to be full of Christmas cheer when all she wants to do is hide from the world, to yell and cry with anger and sadness. Mulder knows this, but doesn’t acknowledge it. He distracts her with ghosts, and it is the most wonderful thing he could do.

I love the contrast between Mulder and Scully meeting the ghosts, on experiencing the scary haunted house. Mulder is fascinated, while Scully is terrified. An incredible parallel to their experiences with the paranormal - Mulder just wants to know more but Scully rationalizes it to try to dispel her fears.

“Alright, I’m afraid. But it’s an irrational fear.” - Scully (Her first of three admissions this episode.)

This is a wonderful season to explore Scully’s fears. She is terrified of the unknown, of what she can’t explain rationally, which drives her stubbornness all throughout the next few seasons. It’s frustrating for Mulder, he doesn’t understand why she’s so resistant to believe even if she’s seen things she can’t deny, but it all stems from this fear. She doesn’t fully overcome it until much, much later (“all things”, I believe).

Mulder’s “I got your back” when Scully’s about to check out something strange/scary. Hilarious, and a simple attempt at humour. An attempt to show that Scully is the braver one. He might be less scared, but he pushes her, wants her to explore, and while Scully is afraid SHE is the one to open the door because HE pushes her to do so, because she needs to explain things to conquer her fear. She likes that about him, about their relationship. He gives her strength and courage to overcome her fears.

Scully gets into the next room, is comforted by evidence of the mundane. The wound clock, the fire that just went out. This place isn’t haunted, it’s just occupied.

Mulder is such a goofball. Enjoying pranking/scaring Scully, teasing her. He touches her shoulder. He calls her on her fears - that “Rationally, you've been in much more dangerous situations”. In a horror movie, Mulder would be the one doing all the things that YOU SHOULD NOT DO. Scully realizes this, haha.

Scully’s hand on his arm when they realize that the corpses are themselves. It’s meant to scare them, to make them believe something will happen to them. So the things that come later will be more believable and they’ll be more susceptible to Maurice and Lyda’s manipulations.

The psychoanalysis of Mulder and Scully.

A lot of these insights are accurate, but some of them reflect only what they FEAR is the truth.

Maurice → Mulder

I’m just going to comment here that Mulder is wearing my favourite outfit. Leather jacket, t-shirt and jeans. Hnnnnnnnnng.

“Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you?”

The one person he wants to believe him the most is extremely resistant to it. She says she believes him, but she can’t quite admit it to herself. This hurts him.

“Narcissistic, overzealous, self-righteous egomaniac.”

Overzealous, yes, and perhaps self-righteous but I don’t agree with the others. Mulder would be WORRIED about the other things though. That he is too self-centered, that his personal quest has taken so much from Scully. He views himself as selfish, and undeserving of love and companionship because of it.

“You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone to obsessive compulsiveness workaholism, antisocialism... Fertile fields for the descent into total wacko breakdown.”

Single-minded: YES

Obsessive: YES; compulsive to the extent that he is impulsive and spontaneous when it comes to his quest, but not OCD

Workaholism: YES - Mulder doesn’t ever NOT work, as long as it’s associated with his obsession. He’s always at the bureau, or working at home, or dragging Scully to investigate mysterious things on the weekend.

Antisocialism: YES - He doesn’t care what other people think, doesn’t have much of a social life outside of his carefully chosen friends

Total wacko breakdown: he jokes about his mental stability, that he belongs in a mental institution, that they’d lock him up if he went there, that Scully could see him tied down on a bed. But in reality he is very stable emotionally - with all of the trauma he encounters he is very resilient, bounces back, pursues his quest

“You probably consider yourself passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?”

YES. He doesn’t mind that people don’t get him, because he knows he’s on the right path. His joking and humour only covers up his vulnerability, otherwise he is very serious about most things.

“Most people would rather stick their fingers in a wall socket than spend a minute with you.”

OOF. This hurts him, hits home, gets right down to the core of his greatest fear, of being alone.

He brings up Scully, that he’s not actually alone. He didn’t take her car keys, but the ONLY REASON SHE’S IN THE HOUSE IS BECAUSE THEY WERE TAKEN.

And where is she? “BEHIND A BRICK WALL.” One of their own construction - mainly Mulder’s.

“You know why you do it-- listen endlessly to her droning rationalizations. 'Cause you're afraid. Afraid of the loneliness. Am I right?”

This is why Mulder, after his frustration in “The Beginning”, is more accepting of her disbelief. He makes very good points about why she can’t believe in that episode, but he doesn’t really push her on it afterwards - because the alternative is loneliness. (He DOES know that the debate is necessary for their process, but also that her denials are unreasonable at this point, after what they saw.)

If he pushes her too much, will she leave?

Lyda → Scully

Her hand shaking when holding her gun is just perfection. I love how she calms, her hand steadies, but then starts trembling again when Lyda starts making strange insights, knows things she shouldn’t.

“You must have an awful small life. Spending your Christmas Eve with him... Running around chasing things you don't even believe in.”

Again, Scully wants more out of life. She wants to “get out of the car”, wants to experience family, intimacy, have a partner to share her life with. That Mulder seems incompatible with those things, that he could never settle down and stop chasing things in the dark.

“I can see it in your face... The fear... The conflicted yearnings... A subconscious desire to find fulfillment through another. Intimacy through co-dependency.”

Feeling that she can’t obtain intimacy with Mulder, she finds satisfaction just being with him, working with him, being NEEDED.

“Maybe you repress the truth about why you're really here pretending it's out of duty or loyalty-- unable to admit your dirty little secret. Your only joy in life is proving him wrong.”

This isn’t true, she loves working with Mulder, and believes her rationalizations only serve to build him up (they do). Recent tension between them would make her fear that Mulder thinks this way - that she has no purpose in their quest. Her unwillingness to believe, that it’s only about wanting to be right, will only serve to drive him away.

I love that Scully faints from fear at seeing the holes in Lyda’s stomach and Maurice’s head. When confronted with something SO UNBELIEVABLE, something that cannot be denied or rationalized or put in a box she just shuts down.

Lyda → Mulder

“I was young and beautiful once, just like your partner.” Any acknowledgement of Scully’s beauty just makes me 😍

“Maybe you two should have discussed your real feelings before you came out here.”

Heck, yeah! But Mulder can’t let himself. Even if he knew Scully felt the same about him, he doesn’t deserve to be loved by her.

Comparing Mulder’s reaction to seeing the hole in Lyda’s stomach to Scully’s. He’s disgusted because he accepts it as reality as a matter of course, while Scully is (literally) scared out of her mind.

When Lyda suggests Scully would shoot herself, Mulder’s “I wouldn’t let her”. 😍

“We're not lovers.” - Mulder, said with a sigh “And this isn't a pure science. But you're both so attractive and there'll be a lot of time to work that out.” - Lyda

Ummmmmmmmmm… can we have ghost-Mulder and Scully AU fanfic please?

Maurice → Scully

Mulder as “dark and lonely” - suggesting that he took the car keys to keep her with him. The little nuggets of truth that Maurice and Lyda offer to Mulder and Scully make it easier to accept the other things - the fears that they have about each other.

He’s got no one this Christmas, and she had no idea. 😥

Maurice and Lyda trick Mulder and Scully

When she sees “Mulder”, she’s so relieved and happy.

When “Mulder” rants about loneliness. Scully doesn’t believe in it. She thinks they can change, that they can choose to not be lonely. (This comes up again in “Milagro”. A VERY SIGNIFICANT EPISODE. Hnnng.)

“You’re scaring me.” - Scully (2)

Scully’s face when he’s about to shoot himself. 😥

Mulder finding “Scully” 😥

Crawling along the floor in their blood.

“Are you afraid, Mulder? I am.” - Scully (3)

They can’t shoot each other, even when thinking that the other did it to them.

Of course Mulder figures it out first. He’s more open to believing that this is an illusion, a trick. Something unreal and paranormal rather than the reality of them having shot each other. He reaches for her and helps her up, showing her the evidence in front of her face that this isn’t real. Touches her uninjured stomach, covered in blood.

Lily Tomlin as Lyda and Ed Asner as Maurice were amazing. I loved their playfulness. That this was a horror-comedy instead of just a tragic, scary story.

Back at Mulder’s apartment

“I don’t deserve to be so happy.” - on the television in Mulder’s apartment at the end. How sad. But it describes him so perfectly this season. He doesn’t believe he deserves happiness. That he got to spend some time with Scully was wonderful, but now he’s back in his lonely apartment wishing she was still there, but not thinking it should ever happen. He knows what makes him happy, sharing and spending time with Scully, but she has her own “normal” life that he can never be a part of, that he doesn’t DESERVE to be a part of no matter how desperately he craves it.

When she shows up, he’s delighted. That she wants to be there with him, enjoys spending time doing WHATEVER, even if she’s scared, or refuses to believe. She enjoys their connection just as much as him. She views him as an important person in her life, just as much as her family. He agrees with Scully that it didn’t happen, doesn’t push her on her stubbornness to not believe, because he’s just happy she’s here. He chooses the opposite of loneliness.

Their acknowledgement of the fears that they have. Mulder’s on being selfish, and Scully’s on her reasons for working with him. I love that they mention these things rather than the ones that are actually true.

They do some heavy gazing at each other when talking about their vulnerabilities. 😍

I love how bashful they are when giving each other presents. It’s so cute!

Scully loves presents. I just love that tidbit about her. I don’t think she’s materialistic, the present could be anything. She just loves that someone cares enough about her to get her something meaningful, she loves the anticipation of unwrapping and seeing what it is.

After they opened their gifts, I think Scully invited Mulder to her mom’s house. Knowing he has nowhere to be, no one to spend it with. I just can’t see her choosing to leave him alone, and she WANTS to be with him. WANTS to live a life where they are together for holidays and significant events, not just because of work.

#xfiles #x-files #x-files rewatch #x files rewatch #msr #msrheadcanon #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #season 6 #top 10 episodes

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houseki-no-suffering · 5 years ago

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on ch 82 and what the hell is the deal with phos

super long wall of words ahead, you've been warned. also, im not qualified to discuss the emotional effects of trauma, so please correct me where im wrong and don’t hesitate to add on this post

contains an analysis of phos’ character arc, explanation on why and how they snapped and what might happen to our child next:

1. genki phos 2. post winter phos 3. laphos 4. on trauma 5. on snapping 6. speculations about the future

so, first things first, I could not help but notice the sheer number of parallels between this chapter and other significant points of the story. it seems to me that parallels are becoming more and more frequent as the moon arc goes on, and that’s not just because there are simply more chapters to draw parallels from as the story grows in size.

I believe that we’re at a turning point in the story, or even that the turning point has been reached, (aechmea telling barbata to fix phos for the umpteenth time is most likely going to give phos the last treasure, but ill get to it).

so, to try and understand what in the seven hells is going on with our baby at this point (the fandom collectively adopted phos since chapter 2, sign the papers if you haven’t already and donate to the fund to send phos to therapy) let’s retrace phos’ character journey.

1: genki phos

the phos who is too good for this world, too pure, the cinnamon roll who has no idea what the hell is gonna happen to them. oh joy.

hnk sets off as a coming of age story. phos is the youngest, they’re seemingly useless in a society that values usefulness above anything else so genki phos is initially driven by lack of purpose.

i’ve speculated already on the characteristics of the lustrous society, a society that emphasizes sameness over difference and that has no place for outcasts like phos and cinnabar. your value, in lustrous society, is dictated by how much and in which way you can contribute to the survival of the species, with elite fighters (the diamonds) being at the apex of the social pyramid and everyone else coming after.

additionally, while gems live in a highly interdependent and close-knitted society, such interdependence never takes into account emotions, loss, imagination, introspection and free-thinking. the society is extremely practical, apathetic, immobile, and everyone is expected to conform to that.

think about antarc: they’re the poster child of lustrous society: a 3 mohs hardness gem who managed to become an elite fighter out of sheer willpower, who’s blindly loyal to sensei, who sacrifices themselves for the greater good (the group’s interests > the individual’s interests), that does little if any introspection and that is happy about all of this and wants to leave it this way.

phos isn’t like this at all.

since the very beginning of the series we learn that phos is an anomaly. and that’s okay, other gems have been anomalies, like padparadscha, cinnabar, even antarcticite, but while those gems found a way to tip toe to the margins of lustrous society to remain unobtrusive exceptions, or forge themselves into proper, useful members of the group, phos cannot do that. which is ironic, because we know that one of phos’ core characteristics is that they’re able to change and to bring about change in a world that is as immobile and still and stiff as… well.. rock.

like @ruddy-rutile pointed out in a past analysis, phos’ problem wasn’t so much that they didn’t fit in, but that they didn’t fit in the appropriate way: they’re emotional, they’re loud, they’re unreliable, they’re not apathetic. they’re kind. compassionate. imaginative. and imagination is something the other gems lack.

this fuels a deep sense of self-hatred that even at this early stages of the story is lying just beneath the surface and oozes out quite easily, like when phos wants to help ventricosus and mumbles that it’s no problem if they die in the attempt, they’re a good for nothing after all, what difference would it make if they dont come back. at least they were able to help someone, contrary to how they were unable to help cinnabar.

this is the leitmotif of the series: phos is a kind, selfless gem who cultivates a deep sense of self-hatred. the internalized pressure and need to feel useful turns into a necessity for change. they need to save cinnabar, they need to save ventricosus, they need to become a fighter, they need to help sensei.

contrary to most of the other gems, phos loves and loves openly and unconditionally, they’re self-less by nature and that selflessness is a barrier that hides the real reason theyre so ready to put their life on the line for other people: the fact that phos thinks that their own life isnt wort a scrap.

as someone who believes to be worthless, guided by shame and guilt just for being alive and fueled by a deep desire to feel loved and accepted (just like a child), phos is unable to cope with grief and emotion if not by guilt tripping themselves even further.

the fact that the amethysts were almost taken is their fault, the fact that cinnabar is suicidal is their fault, the fact that antarc was taken is their fault, same with ghost’s abduction. the only way phos knows to cope with this guilt is by doing what every other gem does: bury these feelings deep inside their head and throw themselves into work. be useful, like alexandrite, rutile or red beryl.

2. post winter phos

what was a story about purpose, about phos’ coming of age, reaches an end at this very point, with antarc’s death. phos has become stronger at this point of the story, they have agathe legs and gold arms and they have grief to cope with, trauma.

just like alex’s job is studying the enemy and red’s job is making clothes, phos’ job is the one they originally desired for themselves: to fight. because there is nothing as valued as a good fighter in gem society and probably young phos unconsciously hoped to overcome self-hatred by taking on the most useful job there is.

post winter antarc is a skilled soldier, so skilled that bort wants to pair up with them. phos has reached their old goal: through loss and maturity, now they have a place within their society, they’re accepted and appreciated, valued but not loved. because these gems are so, so bad at emotions.

and this is where ms ichikawa begins to fool us all. she had us think that this story would be simple, but now hnk starts its steep and unrelenting detour toward existentialism and phos begins their dance toward madness and bottomless grief.

post winter phos is a soldier, they can fight off lunarians, but theyre still blaming themselves for antarc’s death.

we already said that phos is a very emotional gem and they possess a fervid imagination (probably just like lapis). so what do they do? they start thinking. “maybe i can retrieve antarc if we collect enough pieces. if i can communicate with the lunarians. if i can understand why we’re fighting.”

thinking quickly turns into questioning: why are we fighting? why are we so weak? why am i different? what changed me? is it the new additions, is it just life experiences? can we change? how can we change? antarc told me i shouldnt shy away from life, so im gonna push myself further and further.

that’s when shiro’s arc happens and sensei seems to know something about it, something he won’t tell the gems. phos’ questions suddenly turn to him.

phos is pretty much paranoid at this point of the narrative: they have experienced loss for the first time. consumed by guilt and grief for antarc’s recent abduction (even if phos still doesnt know what death means, we’ll get to that in a while), phos cannot think straight. they can’t be questioning the one authority every gem recognizes, the person phos and everyone else wants to protect, their leader, father, teacher.

phos feels like scum just for even thinking about it, as loyal and young as they are. and yet once you start questioning one minuscule thing about the way you have always lived your life, more and more will follow. it’s a cascade effect and it becomes faster the higher the number of questions, until you’re left with nothing but doubts and you must take into your hands the responsibility to find out for yourself.

this is more or less what happens to phos. they feel awful for doubting sensei the first time, in chapter 27, so they spill their guts to cinnabar, confessing their sins. but what cinnabar says does anything but put phos at ease: of course phos is doubting sensei: he’s shady, everyone knows.

however, while cinnabar is a quiet outcast, extremely prudent (and cowardly if you want) in the way they decide to face life, phos is the total opposite. they just needed a little nudge, they were already on the edge of a cliff of doubts and existential fears. cinnabar’s words are the second, big step that sets phos off on their path to the moon.

chapter 28 is when we see phos self-destructing because of this inner conflict for the first time, a pattern that will be repeated again and again the more phos loses sight of the truth, of a reliable something, a goal to cling onto and find direction.

it is ironic, because phos becomes a direction, a goal, the gems and the moon people’s hope (ch 59 and 72), but in doing so they have no hope left for themselves. let’s not forget that phos is very young by gems’ standards, not to mention in comparison to the moon people. how fair is to expect from a traumatized child to save the world and find answers to questions that run thousands of years deep and give phos nothing in return?

the pressure is enough to break phos and it does, quite literally, over and over and over again.

3. Laphos

lapis’ head comes at a time when phos was literally no longer able to manage this pressure.

it brings a waft of fresh air, it brings what emotional, kind phos needed to detach themselves from grief: coldness, rationality. and yet, it takes something away from phos as well: laphos is the phos that can no longer talk with cinnabar, the phos that brings cairn to reject the gems altogether and launch themselves into their kin’s killer’s arms. laphos is the gems and lunarians’ hope for a brief time, then it becomes the enemy.

i find it interesting how phos feels responsible for goshe and morga’s abduction too, even if phos was unconscious when it happened. phos has no clear boundaries between themselves and the rest of the world. they feel responsible for everything and guilty for everything. whatever they do will never be enough neither to make up for their past mistakes nor to find everyone a clear sense of purpose, safety, truth.

ichikawa plays with truth a lot. truth is that the lunarians are bad people and the gems must defend themselves, truth is that sensei is shady, truth is that the moon people are actually good, truth is that death is real, truth is that sensei is evil, truth is that cinnabar hates phos, truth is that the gems are evil, truth is that sensei is the only one that loves phos. who knows what the next truth will be, but can you call it truth, at this point?

if there is one point, i believe, that ichikawa is trying to make clear is that truth is subjective and that it changes, just like phos’ goal, the more knowledge you acquire and the more mistakes you make. truth is subjective but it must be sought after: you gotta keep fighting, you gotta move on even if you keep making mistakes, even if you cant undo your actions.

and another thing i think she’s trying to say is that you cannot make it alone. the moment phos tried to take it all on their shoulders, they moment they acquired lapis’ head, is the moment everything came crumbling down ten times faster than before.

and the most ironic part is that phos is still kind, even underneath that mantle of aloofness: they tried to do everything by themselves because they didn’t want to put anyone in danger, but in doing so they manipulated the gems just like aechmea. and aechmea knows and he’s been using phos for this.

4. Even more trauma

running after truth and after newer and more nuanced goals, phos has completely lost sight of themselves.

where do their alliances lie? what about their history? phos wakes up in ch 72 after the night raid and immediately breaks into pieces because they’re reminded of how cinnabar attacked them, the one gem they thought was their friend. one of the few truths phos had been clinging to.

phos wakes up after the night raid and asks the enemy “to the lunarians i look like a gem and to the gems i look like a lunarian. what am i?”

they break into pieces because they still believe they’re useless. they couldn't save cinnabar, they couldn't save antarc, they couldn't communicate with the earth gems, they couldn't even see adamant.

this is reminiscent of the very beginning of the manga: phos needs to feel useful, they need a goal, they need to be good at something. and just like they were ready to get lost at sea forever to help ventricosus they’re ready to die for someone else’s cause (not even phos’ own because they have no idea what to believe in at this point) just to be of use. after all, to phos, phos is nothing more than a scrap.

euc disagrees. ch 71 “we need you in our future” is a sentence that phos has probably ached to hear for centuries. “we need you. you are loved, you mean something, you are enough. you belong. we cannot build a future where you aren’t part of the equation. you matter”

and look at the way phos looks at euc. they can barely believe them and in fact they don’t. phos expresses some concern about dying (”after all, those less than 5 includes me”) but they still throw themselves into danger, they still take no care of themselves.

Phos’ self hatred and self-destructive tendencies run deeper than euc’s words could ever cut. those words meant well, but they were too little too late. phos thinks they don’t deserve this kind of hope, they cannot understand it, cannot fathom a world in which they are true and so they will go on believing that they are alone and worthless. next time they go on earth, they’ll go alone and unharmed

it is ironic. they did so much, they went to the moon and back multiple times, put their life on the line multiple times, made more progress toward unveiling the truth about the lunarians and finding a way for them to be free of samsara than anyone else did in hundreds (presumably) of thousands of years. they did it by themselves. in barely three hundred years. that’s impressive. and yet it’s not enough for phos. in their mind, they just keep failing.

so what’s the big deal? they can sacrifice themselves, it’s the least they can do and no one will miss them after all. unfortunately, this is true, at least to some extent.

im appalled by how little even the moon gems care about phos. they’re so self-centered it’s almost funny.

even alex, who has gone through loss and grief if not as much at least in a way similar to phos cannot find enough compassion in themselves to be concerned about phos’ wellbeing after a few months on the moon.

ive heard people mention how this could be a result of the moon people injecting who knows what into the gems or manipulating them someway or another, but i believe that there was no need to. phos is an anomaly after all, their kindness is an anomaly. the lustrous are little more than self-centered children: they are able of little if no introspection and they cannot process complex emotions like grief if not by shutting off those emotions altogether.

the moon gems are still vaguely concerned about phos. in ch 76, when phos departs for earth for the last time, they do tell them to be careful and come back if things get bad, but they do little more than that. it’s little comfort and too little emotional closeness and by no means close to the huge amount of support and (emotional) assistance that phos needs at this point.

phos tries to make do with what they have: a will to end this war and the superficial words of what should be their family, but it’s not even remotely enough. and yet phos, just like any other lustrous, is very bad at introspection: they don’t notice or if they notice they repress it. what’s one more thing down the subconscious after all? it’s fine. phos can take it, until they can no more and they snap without having any idea that they will snap.

phos’ journey, which has made them increasingly more emotional, fragile and human (the last one quite literally) has also made phos even more alone than they were at the beginning of the story. more alone, with the same sense of worthlessness, the same urgency to be good for something or self-destroy, and so much more grief, trauma, guilt and repressed emotions.

5. snapping

“I mustn’t think of anything” phos reminds themselves in ch 76. because thinking never brought anything good and because euc would see right through it.

once again, phos is repressing emotions. here they go, trying to be a cold blooded killer, ready to betray sensei again, the one person who has been good to them and that phos tried to hate with all their heart but just couldnt.

as ive written in a previous analysis, one of aechmea’s lowest blows was to tell the gems he was exploiting and manipulating to reach a salvation he doesnt deserve that if the gems want to acquire freedom they must do so by themselves. talk about coherence.

but that isnt all, he sinks even lower than this: he makes phos and the others question sensei’s affection for them. he says that sensei’s love is fake, it’s synthetic, the gems should totally make him pray or destroy him, no remorse, no strings attached. it’s such a dirty move.

no wonder it confuses phos even more. phos believes it, or tries to, they say they want to break sensei into pieces, but after the night raid they realize that it cant be that simple. sensei never attacked them. he has always been good to phos. and phos feels even more worthless, more of a traitor for daring believe in love, in sensei’s affection, when here they are, on the lunarians’ side, ready to betray him again.

how dare phos hope for anything? they dont deserve love, they dont deserve hope, they dont deserve happiness. they can try to give it to other people, they’ll kill themselves in order to do so, but they have no more hope and no love left for themselves, and they had so little to begin with.

as ive said, phos has little self-awareness and little introspection. i do believe that they had no idea they were going to snap until they did. even in ch 77, when sensei tells them he cannot pray, phos spends their last seconds of consciousness (before being attacked by all of the gems) to kindly ask him to pray. they dont care about themselves, but they dont reflect long enough to consider that reaching out to sensei like that could be interpreted as hostile by the paranoid earth gems. i think this is the first sign that phos is about to snap: they’re quite literally desperate.

tired beyond measure and forced to spend 220 more years in isolation, broken into pieces scattered all over the island, when phos comes to their senses again once kongo reassembles them they’re beyond despair. this war is taking the last toll on them and phos has no more energy to go on.

“please,” they say “pray. do it for no one else but me. grant me mercy,” from one bodhisattva to the other. they’re still somewhat normal, but when sensei fails to pray again phos can’t take it anymore. desperation and rage, fueled by hopelessness, worthlessness, grief and exhaustion make phos launch themselves against sensei, which, ironically, it’s exactly what the story needs.

apparently, phos is human enough to activate sensei but not human enough to make him pray. however, when the two of them join hands, sensei can actually pray. maybe it’s because both phos and sensei are intended to be bodhisattva? maybe because human voice commands are not as strong as contact? i have no idea.

phos has snapped by the way, and it’s weird how they go from “If only you weren’t here” to “sensei actually loves me” in a couple of chapters. in a certain way, we’re seeing phos going back to their roots: they love sensei and trust in sensei’s love, they’re once again openly emotional and impulsive, they’re once again ostracized by the gems (of course, much more violently this time).

i have written about how, after ‘fusing’ with sensei for a brief second, phos doesnt speak for the entirety of ch 81. they look and act like a literal monster, a scared animal, which is ironic since we know that they’re now human. i hypothesized that they might be reborn and that’s why they don’t speak, they’re a literal infant, but in light of ch 82, i think they’re simply hurt beyond measure.

they reversed to their old emotional persona, vomiting out all the emotions and pain and rage and hate they repressed during these 300 years. and yet they still don’t hurt anyone, not as much and as deliberately as they could at least.

they’re conscious enough to recognize the notebook and be reminded of their lost friends, realize how little the earth gems care for phos and for what they’re doing. and, i believe, when phos is rescued and comes back to the moon, they are, for the first time in the whole manga, enraged by the earth gems’ stupidity and sheer ungratefulness.

phos has been fighting for the wellbeing of everyone for centuries, putting their life on the line, never asking for anything in return and always believing that they were doing the right thing. and yet it’s not enough.

aechmea is a clever politician, and like every good politician he’s good at picking up changes and turning them in his favor.

he notices that there’s something wrong with phos and with the way they feel about the gems. maybe he doesnt yet realize that phos is angry at them for being ungrateful, but he senses something so he provokes phos: “you said to leave you on earth last time. did you change your mind?” that is “i’m not your enemy. see? im doing what you want me to do. not quite like those people down there on earth. oh, wait, were those your friends? aw, such a pity. to think they attacked you after everything you’ve done for them. but they’re your family, right? i’ll send you back to them if this is what you want. see? i’ll listen to your wishes. i am grateful.”

look how intently he looks at phos as phos incoherently and obsessively repeats the same thing over and over: “he would have prayed. he would have prayed for me. he loves me. he would have prayed.” if you want, this is also a syìubtle way for phos to apologize: they still feel responsible for their failure, but aechmea must understand: phos did everything they could, it would have worked, it was the gems’ fault.

adamant put phos back together, showing phos that he still cares. he is the only one that loves phos, while the gems (all gems, phos doesnt care much for differences at this point) keep hurting phos even if phos is only trying to help. so they must be killed. to hell with them all. and, notice, phos doesnt include themselves in the ‘gem’ category: they’re no longer a lustrous. they’re a monster, a liminal creature.

with nothing left to believe in if not sensei’s love and a promise to make him pray and then die in peace, phos wants to destroy the only thing that they believe stands between them and finally being useful, but also between them and freedom (freedom from suffering, from guilt, from existing, from their pain, from being): the gems.

this isn’t the first time that phos wants to kill something: in ch 68 they spoke about crushing sensei to pieces. it’s heartbreaking how phos went from “if only the moon people weren’t here” to “if only sensei weren’t here” to “if only the gems weren’t here.” will it turn into: “if only i weren’t here?” who are phos’ allies? who does phos feel kinship with? who is phos? they no longer know, and they’ve not known for a long time.

aechmea has noticed and he’s quick to turn the situation to his advantage. he shakes phos’ hand, he’ll grant them freedom just like phos will grant the lunarians’ freedom. he’ll forgive phos for failing, for their sins, for the bottomless despair and guilt that phos has been living with for centuries. salvation, hope, that is all phos needs.

as @rinboz pointed out, phos’ gold in ch 82 takes the shape of a lotus seed pod, a direct reference to when antarc was abducted and the gold had turned into a lotus flower.

through pain, phos had blossomed into a new character that day, marking the beginning of their long journey toward truth and toward discovering that there is no truth. the day the story changed from a coming of age manga to something much, much more intricate.

phos’ pod is empty, they have nothing left to lose, it’s a dead flower. this is the end of the journey that started with antarc’s abduction. when phos wakes up again, it will probably be with new memories and a new addition to their body, possibly red diamond.

phos’ self destruction has reached its apex because it finally became so intense to extend outwards, to other people that, in their immense grief, phos wants to bring down with them. this might be a minuscule form of progress: anger is better than repressing emotions at least, but phos’ problems are far from being solved.

6. on the future

what will be of phos then? it really depends.

the fact that they’re finally showing all that sufferance and those emotions they tried so hard to repress is good, but aechmea is still there to take advantage of it.

phos will never be free as long as they dont associate themselves with someone that truly loves them and as long as they cant find someone that can help them deal with their emotions. aechmea is just using them and only ichikawa knows what he meant when he told barbata to be careful with those 200 years emotions.

theoretically, phos was unconscious during the timelapse, but if there are emotions to treat carefully maybe they weren’t? maybe the change we’ve seen in phos this chapter depends on what they had to endure during that time. or maybe aechmea simply wants to make sure that his pet is easy to use.

i do believe we’re close to the end. i dont know if it will be the end of the series or just the end of phos as we know them. i could hope for something good to finally happen to them and for them to heal, but it would take a therapist or someone that loves phos.

maybe euclase could side up with sensei, they seemed the most concerned about phos’ status and the most prone to believe them. maybe goshe and cicada could do something again, maybe rutile will fix padpa once more and padpa will talk with the earth gems (not very likely, but im throwing theories left and right at this point), or maybe barbata will refuse to follow aechmea’s instructions, at least in part, and try to help phos.

as always, im afraid we’ll have to wait. in the meantime, please hug phos. if you read up to this point hug phos. hug them now and shower them with love, because no one else will

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #phosphophyllite #meta #best

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wallofweird · 4 years ago

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It's making me nervous that JH keeps making comments about not focing love with Madison.

Right. Well, the first thing I have to say about all this is: I’m not worried at all, if anything, I’m optimistic. I'm stating this first and explaining why because this might become a long answer, so I’m letting you know in case you don’t have the time/disposition/patience to read all of it or at least now at the moment.

The first thing we need to remember about headlines is that people usually make it dramatic, they carefully pick the most ambiguous or potentially concerning words, usually out of context and use it as a title to get clicks. They could’ve gone with something like “it’s an amazing story”, but that’s not engaging. On the other hand, “You can’t really force love”, certainly is. It’s all clickbait.

So, Justin teases: “I’ve said this before: You can’t really force love. It doesn’t work.”

And that is actually him making a reference to this old answer:

“Love is a strange thing. If you let it [love] happen, it could be wonderful. If you try to force it, then you’re always going to be searching for something that maybe never was there in the first place. And not only that, but maybe you didn’t even really want. You’re shutting yourself out to things, because you had this idea about what your life was supposed to be. And there it was right in front of you.”

For me, that was a great analogy between Kevin’s relationships with Sophie and Madison, with Kevin letting love happen to him with Madison instead of trying to force a fantasy he had on his mind like he’s done before.

And these are more important parts of interview:

Coming into Episode 5, is there any lingering doubt in Kevin’s mind about the path he’s forged with Madison? Or is he full steam ahead on “This is a good thing, and it’s all going to work out?”

I think the doubt is showcased in Kevin in fear. The fear that it might not work out. Gosh, I mean what if they can’t coexist together and be this cohesive unit that comes together and raises these kids, and he [only] sees them on the weekends? There’s all of that stuff. Probably, those are the things that keep Kevin awake at night. He said as much in the last episode. He sits there and stares at the ceiling and worries. All that worry comes from fear, the fear that it absolutely will not work out and that he’s trying to force something.

I’ve said this before: You can’t really force love. It doesn’t work. He’s also in a little bit of a predicament. It’s not like he’s dating a woman that he doesn’t want to be dating. He’s in a situation where she’s having his babies. And he has, his whole life, been bound by this idea that he wants to be what his father knew he could be. Because that was cut so short, Kevin doesn’t give himself the breaks that maybe he should. He doesn’t cut himself any slack… and then he finds himself in a bigger predicament. It’s not him messing up for the sake of messing up or being selfish, as we saw him do several years ago. It’s that he puts a lot of stress and pressure on himself, and that sometimes can lead to the balloon popping, so to speak.

It seems like the movie he’s currently filming is not going to help, with a hard-to-please director who has gone out of his way to let Kevin know he’s not going to pat him on the head. Tell me if you think I’m wrong, but it feels like Kevin has some impostor syndrome going on here.

I don’t think that’s overstated. I would say he’s going through yet another existential crisis. [Laughs] If I were his therapist, I would say you’ve got to prioritize the things in your life that are important to you and not live your life for other people. If you look at what he’s actually been able to accomplish, he’s dedicated to being an amazing dad and raising these kids together. Whatever that thing ends up being with Madison, he’s going to give it his all. His career is on track. This won’t be the last movie in the history of the world. Maybe you say no to the movie, or maybe you can do both. Maybe you don’t have to be there every waking moment of the babies’ lives. There are other things that you have to do. You have to leave and go put food on the table. There are other things. Live your life for yourself a little bit. But I don’t know if Kevin does that. I think he’s so focused, and he’s on a mission. With a good heart, but just sometimes a little bit misguided.

How clearly is Kevin seeing Rebecca’s level of mental decline right now? It can be a hard thing to accept.

I think that’s part of the stress. That’s why he’s eager to have these babies, and he wants his mom to meet the babies. Look, he’s aware that this decline is degenerative. It’s not going to get better. You have moments where it might be like, “She’s better today than she was yesterday. She’s better this week than she was last week.” But it’s a degenerative disease. There’s a fall-off. I think he wants to make sure that he has these babies and his mom meets them and spends as much time with them as she possibly can have. And also maybe that might actually…sometimes when you spend time around animals or babies or whatever it slows down the demise of your disease. So he’s definitely aware of all of that. [In the pandemic], how are you…gosh, that’s a stressful thing, too. If you have these twins and I want them to meet Mom, but I can’t right now. It’s not safe. It’s like every single second you hear the clock ticking. Kevin’s got a biological clock, let me put it that way. [Laughs] Kevin is the only man alive that has a biological clock that’s ticking.

The way I see it, there are two ways to interpret this quote about not forcing love:

1) He is not in love with Madison and is trying to force a relationship.

2) At some point, Kevin will have some sort of nervous breakdown and question everything, his relationship with Madison, fatherhood, his actions as a son, brother, actor, person... Including maybe how Madison feels about him, their compatibility and the functionality of their relationship. Does she feel the same way he feels about her? Is she all in with him, his career, the fact sometimes he has to stay away and maybe even travel to a whole different country to shoot a movie? They might love each other, but love isn’t enough. Take Kevin and Zoe as an example, they were in love, but they wanted totally different things. And their love wasn’t enough, because Kevin’s biggest dream was to have a marriage and kids, but Zoe didn’t want children. So, if it doesn’t work out, it can get messy. They will have to share custody, not Kevin nor Madison will be with the babies every single day, there are a lot of different outcomes their relationship can bring.

I personally go with the latter, specially considering everything Justin has said so far and how we was referring to his own answer about Kevin letting love “happen to him”.

Also, because Madison has never forced Kevin to anything. They had known each other for 2 years, they weren’t close friends, but there was a sense of familiarity and camaraderie there and they even got to hang out with each other a few times.

With Kate included, yes, but the three of them were comfortable and used to it, as you can see here, with Madison silently asking for Kevin’s support, Kevin backing her up, smiling and appreciating her little quirks etc.

And both and Justin expressed how they saw Madison as part of the family, even before the pregnancy:

Moving forward, Madison reveals the pregnancy to Kevin on March 5h, since then the show has implied they had talked and hung out before breaking the news to Kate and Toby and Kevin moving in with her, which happened in May.

The show hasn’t really specified when they got together and if it happened immediately after their second time or if they danced around it a little bit before starting a romantic relationship, but since the time they slept together again, they have shown that they do talk,

notice when the other is bothered or worried about something,

think of little things to please one another,

that they share a bedroom now,

and have a routine at home, having meals together, etc.

I mean, the very fact he was already about to put his shirt on before Madison told him to indicates that they they know each well, that they can predict what the other is thinking, that they have a little system of their own.

It’s also stated that Madison knows about Kevin’s ‘broken parts’

and she trusts and believes in him.

Plus, not only that, but she doesn’t think they’re flaws at all.

The fact she thought she had lost her babies and she just wanted KEVIN’S company shows their relationship was already considerably serious back THEN:

And THIS IS KEVIN after their second time:

He is embracing her and has his fingers wrapped around her arm, sort of locking her in, he is fondling her hair, when Madison slightly moves her head he goes down to her shoulder because while he doesn’t want to wake her up, he still just can’t bring himself to stop touching her, he is savoring the moment, he is savoring Madison. There are many ways they could’ve implied they had slept together and introduce the beginning of their relationship, but they specifically chose THIS WAY because they were making a POINT.

And when when Kevin proposes, you can see a little hesitation, like it’s not a in-the-spur-of-the-moment-kind-of thing,

that he’s actually been considering it for a while, his head is telling him to wait a little longer, but his heart is telling him to just act on his feelings and he ultimately goes with the latter.

You can see there is a bit of nervousness and vulnerability when he pulls down her mask because he didn’t initially understand her response:

and and THIS is his reaction when she accepts:

This is simple and pure fulfillment.

Yet, Madison understands how Kevin can get ahead of himself, which is why she gives him an out, but Kevin chooses not to take it back.

And he says that very with confidence and determintion.

Plus, he goes around referring to Madison as his fiancée to strangers.

Madison wasn’t forcing Kevin to do anything and he wasn’t forcing himself to do anything either, he was being genuine and acting on feelings he had both shown and mentioned multiple times, not only to her but other people as well.

Emphasis for him getting emotional just by TALKING about her here.

If ANYTHING, I’d classify his actions as impulsive, but not exactly rushed. He might have let his heart take the lead, yes, but he’s known Madison for 2 years before they hooked up, they had been talking and hanging out together and alone for about THREE months, they had been QUARANTINING together for around MORE THREE OTHER MONTHS. I think their peculiar situation actually justifies getting engaged so fast, they have spent a lot of time getting to know each other better and developing feelings for one another, not to mention the knowledge and familiarity they already had with each other since 2018.

And Justin himself has mentioned that Kevin is more thoughtful about his actions now and that he considers Madison and their children as well:

So I doubt he would’ve proposed and stuck to that proposal if his heart wasn’t settled on it, specially with the way he looks and talks about her. I believe that he is starting to get nervous now that there are a lot of things going on or about to happen.

Before, Kevin and Madison were in their little bubble, living together, getting to know each other, falling in love, dating, in a certain way, we could compare it to a honeymoon.

Now he is back at work, Rebecca still has a degenerative disease, her memory will deteriorate, she will lose her autonomy at some point, he is away of her, he is still at odds with Randall, he is away from Randall and his nieces, he is away of his uncle and second father figure, the babies could be born at any moment, he is afraid of not being a good father, of passing his problems on to his children, about his age, physical appearance, sobriety, he wants to do this movie so he can get a big award and bring Rebecca along with him to see it, he worries about doing things right with his relationship with Madison... And that’s all happening in the middle of a pandemic. it’s A LOT OF STRESS.

Now, add Kevin’s overall self-consciousness. Kevin is naturally insecure. He’s said and shown that multiple times for all these years. He doubts his talent, intelligence, wisdom, maturity, it took him a while to see himself as someone that could be a father and responsible for another human being. When things get though, his nature is to doubt himself, to think he’s not good enough, not capable enough, he’s gone as far as thinking that his issues weren’t worth of attention and care, that his parents didn’t love him as much as his siblings, he almost gave up starring on his old TV show because he didn’t think he was funny enough, there is a scene from season 1 when he’s reading the script of the play and he starts questions if if he even UNDERSTANDS the play.

And as Justin emphasized, he just keeps adding things to his plate, he got a part on a movie when he is about to become a father of two and has a lot of things happening in his family, not to mention his own physical and mental health.

So, I can see a moment when Kevin is overwhelmed and he has a nervous breakdown and questions everything he does, including as a fiancée and/or he overreacts and thinks Madison doesn’t reciprocate his feelings and his mind just goes to the worst case scenario, like maybe things don’t work out and he loses her while also not getting to be as involved in their children’s as he expected because they’re not together anymore. Which makes sense considering this is his most mature relationship to date and he is dealing with problems he’s never dealt with. He’s gonna freak out at some point. Plus, it also matches what Justin said on this very own interview:

Also, on this one:

And despite the dramatic and exaggerated headline, he added this as well:

And said this quite recently too:

So, he will probably panic at some point, which is normal, but like Justin pointed it out, it’s out of a place of FEAR, not second thoughts. If things don’t work out, it affects him, Madison, the children, Kate, Jack and Toby to the very LEAST, because they’re all close... However, it will work out and Madison will help him ease and navigate this situation better as well. They’ll be partners and work as a real couple should and does.

STILL, Justin always likes to remind us Kevin is all in. He did it now:

and for the past NINE months:

So, my guess is that he is overwhelmed with all things considered and maybe getting a part on this movie isn’t helping and he might even get to the point of having to prioritize things, but whether he has to choose between his family and the movie or manages to balance both out, HE IS PUTTING HIS FAMILY FIRST.

Plus, if you watch the promo, Madison reminds Kevin he promised he was “all in” and he replies "I know what I said”, with calmness, certainty and determination.

And they also have these clothes on:

Then, you have them in different clothes,

on what appears to be the next day.

And you can see they tried really hard to capture the most enigmatic expressions,

but on the last picture you can see a smile forming on her face.

And since the article affirms there will be a direct answer to that on the next episode...

Madison having a smiling on her face gives me enough reason to do the same myself.

#this is us #kevin pearson #madison simons #kevison #kadison #justin hartley #fae talks #anon #answers

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years ago

Text

The Once & Future Queen Pt.33

Impenetrable Forest. Recent Past. (Attempting to find their own way out of the Impenetrable Forest, Merlin and Merida walk side by side along the forest path.) Merida: "They're holding Anastasia in the tower and there's no way they haven't used magical protections." Merlin: "I understand, you were right to come find me." Merida: (Glancing backwards:) "What about Guinevere and the others?" Merlin: "If I can speak with Morgana without risking their lives, then that's better for everyone." Merida: "Guinevere believes Morgana can change, doesn't she? (Merlin nods:) Then she's a fool. Morgana is too far gone." Merlin: "I used to think like you. I thought that the only way to destroy the Darkness was to kill the Dark One. Emma and Regina showed me there was another way. As old as I am, I have yet to find a more powerful force in this world than love. No one is a lost cause, Merida, but it will always depend on whether a person is willing to accept the chance to be saved." Merida: "Well, in Morgana's case, I'll believe it when I see it." Merlin: (Chuckles:) "Hopefully you won't have to wait too long." (They continue walking until they arrive at a clearing to find a man waiting for them. When he turns, Merlin is shocked to see the man from his vision standing before him.) Mordred: "Good evening, Merlin."

Storybrooke. Flynn's Barcade. Present. (It's couples night at the arcade and a plethora of Storybrooke's most loved-up pairings have taken advantage of the two for one drinks on offer. While the Stiltskins and Joneses play a friendly game of pool, everyone gathers around the table to watch.) Hook: (Watching Belle sink yet another ball into the corner pocket:) "Hey, I thought Lacey was the one who knew how to shoot pool?" Belle: "She was, but pool's not that hard. (Lines up another shot:) It's just basic geometry. For example, if I hit this ball against the cushion at an angle, then it will bounce off at that angle as well but, if I give the ball a bit of spin... (Belle strikes the ball with spin causing it to bounce off the cushion and pot another ball in the corner pocket:) then that happens." Hook: "Well if you're going to use math to play pool you're gonna take all the fun out of the game." Belle: "Oh I don't think so. (Lines up another shot and looks directly at him:) I mean, I'll always enjoy counting the money I win from you, Killian." (Belle strikes the ball, pots the eight ball and wins the game. Much to Regina's drunken delight.) Regina: (Laughing, to Maleficent:) “Your man just got taken to school.” Maleficent: “Just as long as I don’t have to pick up a cue, I’m fine. (Looking around:) Lord knows when this place was last given a thorough cleaning.” Regina: (Chuckles:) “It can’t be any dirtier than the Dragon’s Lair back when it was a sex dungeon.” Maleficent: “It wasn’t a ‘sex dungeon’. It was safe haven for those who wanted to play out their inner most fantasies and-” Regina: “Perversions.” Maleficent: “Well, you would know about that, dear.” Regina: (Nods vigorously:) “Yes I would!”

(Watching from across the bar, Emma smiles as Regina almost topples from her bar stool before being steadied by Rumplestiltskin.) Alice: (Taking a seat next to her:) "So, how did your travels across the realms go? Did you find the answers you wanted?" Emma: "Sort of. We listened to a lot of different opinions, heard about their experiences and I guess we're just gonna take things as they come." Alice: "Maria is so lucky to have you and Regina as parents. I know if mine were still around they'd have trouble understanding about all this magic business. Of course, I didn't realise I even had magic until much later in life and by then it was too late to worry about what other people might think about it. I mean, we're all different, aren't we?" Emma: (Smiles:) "We certainly are." Alice: "Just promise me one thing, no matter how it turns out with Maria, don't lock her in a tower somewhere?" Emma: "Oh, I promise." (At that moment, the door to the arcade swings open and Merida rushes through it, causing people to scatter in her wake as she makes her way towards the bar.) Merida: "So here's where the retirement party is huh? Playing games and getting blind drunk at happy hour while Morgana's still out there hatching her evil schemes!" Emma: "Merida, what-" Merida: "She's taken Anastasia! She's locked her up in some bloody tower and unless you lot get up off your arses and help me, that's where she'll spend the rest of her days!" Alice: (Stands:) "A tower, you mean my tower?" Merida: "Ach, no. Some other tower out on the desolate plains surrounded by the Impenetrable Forest." Rumplestiltskin: "The Dark Tower." Alice: (Mutters to herself:) "Well mine wasn't exactly cheery most of the time." Regina: (To Rumplestiltskin:) "You've heard of such a place?" Rumplestiltskin: (Nods:) "It's where the High Priestesses would take their initiates." Merida: "Aye and that's why there's no time to lose." Regina: "Well wait a minute, why did we go to the trouble of freeing Merlin if-" Merida: "Merlin's dead." (The mood in the room sobers immediately. Regina looks over to Emma while Rumplestiltskin bows his head.) Impenetrable Forest. Recent Past. (Merlin and Merida stand watching Mordred who waits patiently.) Merlin: "Wait here. (Merida does not move as Merlin makes his way down into the valley to stand before Mordred:) I had a vision we'd be meeting soon. I must say it concerned me at the time but now I see there are no flames that surround us and you have no sword in your hand with which to run me through." Mordred: "Perhaps it is not I you should be worried about."

(Catching Mordred's quick glance back up the hill, Merlin spins around to see Merida release an arrow from her bow. Using his magical abilities, Merlin is able to catch the arrow but not without it first slicing his palm.) Merida: (Dropping her bow:) "I'm sorry, Merlin! Mordred told me that if I didn't do what he said, that he'd kill Anastasia." Merlin: "It's all right, Merida. I understand. (He tosses the arrow away:) No harm done." Morgana: (Approaching from the other side of the valley:) "I wouldn't be so sure. (Merlin turns toward her:) If it's just a scratch, heal thyself, Merlin. (Keeping his eyes trained on Morgana, Merlin raises his uninjured hand and attempts to heal the cut on his opposite palm. To his dismay, he finds that he cannot:) That was no ordinary arrow. It was laced with the blood of the Gean Canach. (Merlin's eyes widen:) Your magic is gone, Merlin." Merida: "No. Merlin, I swear I didn't know!" (Morgana knocks Merida flying backwards with a careless flick of her wrist and stands before Merlin.) Morgana: "What a joy it is to see you, Merlin. Look at you, not so tall and mighty now." (She conjures a sword into her hand.) Merlin: "Magic or not, I am still immortal. No mortal blade can kill me." Morgana: "This is no mortal blade. Like Lancelot's, it was forged in a Dragon’s breath." Merlin: (Realisation dawns:) "Morgana, wait. It does not have to end this way." Morgana: "You're wrong. The prophesy gives me no choice." Merlin: "Morgana-" (Morgana stabs him and Merlin starts to feel the effect of the blade. Mordred looks on while Morgana holds Merlin as he dies. Mordred steps forward to help her lower Merlin to the ground and Morgana withdraws the sword.) Morgana: (Whispered, almost reverently:) "Goodbye, Merlin."

The Dark Tower. Present. (The spirit of Uther Pendragon continues to listen while his daughter recounts her victory.) Uther: "You killed Merlin?" Morgana: "I vanquished the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever known. Now there is no one who can stand in my way." Uther: (Stands:) "Then you truly are the mistress of your own destiny. If you are finished torturing me, you must let me go, for I can no longer bear to see the creature you've become. (Morgana smirks and then nods:) Despite everything, I will always love you, Morgana." (Morgana says nothing as Uther fades from sight. However, Morgana is barely able to take a breath before the door to the room bursts open and she is attacked by the knights of Camelot. When Bedivere charges, Morgana uses her powers to throw him aside. Gwaine and Leon meet the same fate before Lancelot enters, holding the dragon’s breath sword in his hand.) Morgana: "And to think I was told that sword wasn't meant for me." Guinevere: (Enters, stands in front of Lancelot:) "It isn't. Please, Morgana, you must listen to me." Morgana: "So you can fill my head with more of your empty promises?" Guinevere: "I give you my word. Come peacefully and no harm will come to you." (Morgana looks around the room to see the knights getting back to their feet and Lancelot's grip on the sword tighten.) Morgana: "You expect me to believe that while your boyfriend wields that sword?" Guinevere: (Turns to him:) "Lower your weapon, Lancelot." Lancelot: "You know I can't do that, Guin."

Morgana: "Then you give me no choice." (Upon raising her hands to strike, Morgana is blown backwards by a blast of magic that hits her square in the chest. Crashing against the wall, Morgana falls to the floor, unconscious. Lowering their hands, Emma and Regina move further into the room, much to the astonishment of everyone else.) Guinevere: "Emma. Regina. How did you-" Emma: "We heard you could use a hand." Guinevere: (Looks over at Morgana:) "Is she..." Regina: "She'll be fine. We need her restrained before she wakes. Here. (Regina kneels next to Morgana and places a cuff on her wrist:) That should block her magic, at least for the time being." Emma: “Great, now where the hell is Anastasia?”

Elsewhere in the Dark Tower. (Anastasia continues to rock Elyan's body in her arms when she hears footsteps behind her.) Mordred: "The plan was a success. (Anastasia looks up at him:) Merlin lies dead in the Impenetrable Forest. His body left to rot until the wolves gorge on his carcass and bathe in his blood." Anastasia: (Stands, backing away from him:) "Then I'm of no further value to you." Mordred: "True. But circumstances are changing rapidly within this tower and you may still prove useful as a bargaining chip." (Mordred lunges at Anastasia, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her forward. At that moment, a loud cracking sound can be heard all around them as the roof of the tower is torn off. Releasing Anastasia momentarily, Mordred turns and looks up into the face of Alice's Troll as he stares down at them. Mordred draws his sword but it is shot out of his hand by an arrow. Scrambling out of the way while more arrows are fired towards him, Mordred watches the Troll lower Merida into the room. Grabbing Anastasia once more, Mordred pulls a dagger from his boot and holds it against the blonde's neck.) Merida: (Still standing in the Troll's large hand:) "Let her go!" Mordred: "She's useless to me now. She's served her purpose. I have no reason to keep her alive. (Knowingly:) But I think perhaps you do. Now you’re going to let me walk out of here, or she dies. Simple enough?” Anastasia: “Don't do it, Merida!” Merida: “He'll kill you.” Anastasia: “He'll kill me anyway. You can’t let him escape.” Mordred: “Let me pass or watch her die!” (While the standoff continues, Anastasia’s gaze is caught by a vision of her mother standing in the corner of the room, seemingly only visible to her eyes. Rapunzel smiles and covers her heart with her hand, nodding. Instinctively, Anastasia realises what she must do.)

(Returning her attention to Merida, Anastasia locks eyes with her and gives the redhead a nod of her own.) Mordred: “I mean it, I’ll cut her throat, I swear to-” (Merida hesitates until she sees Anastasia mouth the words ‘Trust me’, her chin raised defiantly. With tears in her eyes, Merida releases the arrow, watching as if in slow motion as it travels through the air, piercing Anastasia through the heart and coming to a halt embedded in Mordred’s shoulder. The man drops the dagger and stumbles backwards against the wall while Anastasia crumples to the floor. Mordred takes the chance to vanish from the tower while Merida jumps out of the Troll’s hand and sinks to her knees beside Anastasia.) Anastasia: (Weakly:) “Merida...” Merida: “I’m so sorry, Ana... I don’t know what I was thinking.” Anastasia: “It’s all right, there wasn’t anything else you could do.” Merida: (Pressing her hand to Anastasia’s wound in an attempt to staunch the blood:) “It’s my fault. I never should’ve gotten you involved in all this.” Anastasia: (Shakes her head:) “Getting involved in magic to begin with, that was the start of all my troubles.” Merida: “Isn’t there anything we can do... A spell or... (Merida looks down at her hand to see the blood slowly retreating back inside Anastasia’s chest:) What the hell?” Anastasia: (Looks down:) “Well, would you look at that?” Merida: “Are you doing that?” Anastasia: (Shakes her head:) “No, I... (Thinks:) I think it’s my mother.” Merida: “What?” Anastasia: “My mother’s heart. She must’ve protected it somehow before she gave her life for mine. I think it’s repairing itself.” Merida: “Well you could’ve told me sooner!” Anastasia: (Laughs:) “I didn’t know... I still don’t. I’m only guessing here.” Merida: “Then how do we know for sure?” Anastasia: “Kiss me.” Merida: “Ana, what-” Anastasia: “Just shut up and kiss me, will you?” (Anastasia pulls Merida in for a kiss and a rainbow of colour illuminates the room.) Merida: (When they part:) “Was that...?” Anastasia: (Smiles:) “True Love’s Kiss? Yeah, I think it was. So how do you feel about that?” Merida: “If it’s true well then... I think my life just got made.” Anastasia: (Beams:) “Mine too.” (Falling into each other’s arms, they kiss once more while the Troll stares down at them, wiping a tear from his eye.)

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years ago

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Fic: Forged Through Fire (8/13)

Summary: Amestris. Once democratic, now a military dictatorship. Prohibition is strict; personal freedoms curtailed. All alchemists must be state-licensed or face imprisonment. Foreigners are met with suspicion. It’s a grim place and a grim time, but there are some people able to bring a little light to the world. Behind an innocent-looking bookshop, speakeasy proprietor Chris Mustang has formed an unlikely alliance with unlicensed alchemist Van Hohenheim to provide alcohol to those who want it and medical care to those who need it. When Riza’s newly complete tattoo becomes infected, Roy brings her into this underworld, little knowing the way it will change their lives in the future – uncovering the secrets of the mythical Philosopher’s Stone and the schemes of a Fuhrer hell-bent on achieving immortality, all whilst navigating what they mean to each other.

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Rated: T

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [AO3]

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Forged Through Fire

Eight

Trisha could tell something wasn’t right just a split second before Van’s hold on her hand tightened. She glanced across at him; he was still looking straight ahead but his shoulders were set and tense.

“Secret police?” she hissed.

“Yes.”

Van had something of a sixth sense when it came to spotting the secret police. He’d been avoiding the authorities ever since he’d first come to Amestris and that avoidance had only increased in scope after the current regime had come to power.

“How many?”

“Two behind, one dead ahead.”

Trisha looked at the man all in white coming towards them. As dapper as he looked, he was walking just a little too quickly to be casual, and he wasn’t going to waver from his course. Definitely secret police. Why did Amestris even need a secret police force? There were military police on practically every street corner.

“Trisha, take the next corner and double back to the bar, I’ll meet you there.”

“Van…”

“It’s me they want, and I’ve got a better chance of holding them off.”

She could feel the alchemy beginning to spark on his fingertips, and she squeezed his hand tightly.

“Be careful.”

They’d had to avoid both the regular and the secret police many times over the last few years, but this was their closest call yet. It was a game of cat and mouse, whether they would reach the alley that was Trisha’s exit point before the man in white did. Trisha’s heart was beating painfully in her mouth. It was down to the wire.

Van shoved her down the alley as they got to it, and Trisha forced herself not to run or to look back as she heard footsteps stop and the man in white begin to speak.

“Mr Hohenheim, I believe. That was quite the performance in the park the other day. I know several people who would love to hear about it.”

She didn’t hear Van’s response, but she heard the snap of his alchemy and the creak of the ground reshaping itself beneath her feet.

Then there was a massive bang: explosive alchemy at its finest. It threw her off her balance and she couldn’t help but look behind her. The man in white was brushing dust off his coat, rubble settling all around. Van was on his knees, winded; one of the others who had been following them had taken advantage of the confusion to punch him in the stomach.

“I thought you were a healer, not a fighter, Mr Hohenheim.”

The ground was creaking again, red sparks flying off Van’s fingers even as the other secret police held his arms behind his back to cuff him. The man in white looked startled, and instead of a witty comeback, he just nodded to his associates.

“Bag him.”

The ground started to shake and rumble again, but it was too late. A car had screeched to a stop beside them, and two more secret police had got out, wrestling a black bag over Van’s head. Trisha could smell the chloroform.

“Van!” She pressed her hands over her mouth, but the damage was done and the man in white was coming towards her as Van was bundled into the back of the car.

Trisha ran. She knew all the back alleys of Central City like the back of her hand, and she hoped she’d be able to lose her pursuer in the murky, dark streets. She and Van always had an escape route, no matter where they were. She stumbled, one shoe flying off into the shadows. She left it, yanking the other one off and continuing to run. She could hear the man in white’s pounding footsteps behind her, but it didn’t sound like he was gaining. Hopefully, she had the advantage of familiar territory.

She knew that she was coming up on the Narrows, a series of tight turns and doglegs, the slum buildings packed in so tightly that not even the strong full moonlight could force its way down. If she was going to lose him, here would be best.

Trisha turned at the entrance to the alley labyrinth and lobbed her shoe at the man in white, scoring a direct hit in his face. He swore and staggered back, but she was already off again, weaving in and out until the only sound she could hear was her own panting. It was a long route to double back to the bar safely, but as much as she wanted to get there and get help as soon as possible, she forced herself to stick to the path.

At last she came to the back door, marked with a faint symbol showing it as a safe haven for drinkers and alchemists alike, and she started pounding. Even if everyone else had gone home, surely Riza would still be there.

“Please!” She felt her skin split and bleed, but she kept on hammering. “Please let me in!”

She stumbled forward as the door opened, falling into Chris’s arms.

“Trisha? What’s going on?”

“They’ve got Hohenheim!”

She heard Roy swear and saw Hughes pull him back from rushing straight out of the door, which Chris closed and bolted behind her. It seemed like the entirety of Roy’s group was crowded into the corridor, but they dutifully hurried back into the bar as Riza helped Trisha stumble along. Her legs were on the verge of turning into jelly and her lungs felt like they were on fire. Riza settled her in a chair, and then there was a large glass of brandy in her hands.

“Ok, Trisha, tell it from the top,” Chris said. “And where are your shoes?”

“We got jumped by the secret police. Van probably could have held his own if one of them wasn’t an explosives alchemist. They black-bagged him. The alchemist – at least I think it was the alchemist – tried to follow me but I decked him with a shoe and lost him in the Narrows.”

“We’ve got to get him out.” Roy was pacing up and down with such ferocious purpose Trisha thought he’d wear a hole in the floor. “Secret police headquarters are in the basement under Central Command, not that they like us to know that.”

“Roy, you are not launching a one-man assault on Central Command!” Chris snapped.

“It’s not one-man!” The chorus of all the rest of the group was heartening, but Trisha shook her head.

“No, he’s got no Amestrian papers, remember? They won’t take him for due process at headquarters with unlicensed array-less alchemy and no paperwork.”

Falman winced. “Yeah, he’s heading straight for the void.”

Hughes smacked him upside the head. “Very helpful, Falman.”

“Which makes it even more imperative that we get him out right now.” Roy was heading towards the door again, and Trisha yelled out.

“I’m not worried about him ending up in the void!”

Silence fell, and everyone looked at her. The void was the secret police firing squad yard. No one knew exactly where it was, and it was generally accepted as the worst possible fate you could find in Amestris.

“I’m not worried about him potentially being shot! I’m more worried about what happens when they shoot him and he doesn’t die!”

“I’m going to ask you again. Where are you from?”

The man in white did not look anywhere near as threatening with a broken nose and blood splattered over his once-pristine suit, and Hohenheim recognised Trisha’s handiwork. She’d always had a good throwing arm.

The interrogation room that he’d come round in seemed to be pretty standard, not that he’d made a habit of frequenting them in the past. He looked down at his hands, cuffed into standard alchemist wooden stocks which were chained to the table.

Ordinarily that wouldn’t be enough to stop him, but the chloroform was still making him woozy, and he knew he wouldn’t have enough control not to bring whatever building he was in down on top of him. There was also the fact that whilst the man in white did not look as threatening now, he was still an alchemist and an explosive one to boot, which made the playing field far different to if he’d just been dealing with standard secret police officers.

Also, whilst he did not look as threatening with a bloody nose, being hit in the face with a shoe hadn’t done anything for his temper.

“I told you,” Hohenheim said levelly. “I’m not from anywhere.”

The man in white leaned in close to his face.

“You’ll make things a lot easier for yourself if you co-operate, Mr Hohenheim.”

Hohenheim raised an eyebrow.

“I fail to see how that can possibly be true. You’re going to execute me whether I co-operate or not, so I’ll continue being unco-operative until that happens.”

He was expecting the slap, but it still stung, and he sighed, feeling the crackle of innate alchemy healing the bruise before it bloomed.

“You can keep doing that as much as you like but it’s really not going to make any difference, I assure you.”

The man in white sneered. “You’ve got a mouth on you for someone who’s wanted for three offences that carry the death penalty. But don’t worry, your little lady friend will be joining you in the yard once we track her down. Aiding and abetting a fugitive and all that.”

Hohenheim felt the sparks crackle over his fingertips, and he willed himself to keep his composure. The longer he could keep the man in white talking, then the more time passed before he went after Trisha.

The man in white scoffed. “Not so smart now, are you?”

“Thank you, Major Kimblee. I’ll take it from here.”

The man in white looked up as the new voice entered the room, and he nodded deferentially, leaving without another word.

Hohenheim recognised the voice. Everyone in Amestris would have recognised the voice, they heard it making patriotic speeches over the radio often enough. He wasn’t even all that surprised that Fuhrer Bradley had come to question him in person, although he knew that was hardly an honour afforded to any normal rogue alchemist. Hohenheim had long since accepted that he was nothing close to normal at all.

The Fuhrer sat down at the other side of the table, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. In any other circumstances, it would have seemed more like he was about to have a friendly chat than conduct an interrogation.

“Please do excuse the major, Mr Hohenheim. Since you managed to foil his carefully crafted mission to eliminate Lieutenant Hughes, he’s been rather out of sorts.”

Hohenheim said nothing, steadfastly staring him down. He seemed so genuinely affable, and Hohenheim knew that it was all a front. He wasn’t even trying to lull him into a false sense of security, or play good cop, bad cop with Kimblee. This was just the way Bradley was and always had been, all throughout his meteoric rise to power that Hohenheim had witnessed every step of.

��Still, I’m very glad to have this opportunity to speak to you, Mr Hohenheim. As I’m sure you know, I take a very keen interest in all forms of alchemy that are practised within Amestris. I like to know the talents that I have at my disposal should I ever need them. Naturally, when I heard of your remarkable, and dare I say it, unique talents, I had to see for myself. Our library contains a vast assortment of registered circles and arrays for all kinds of alchemy, but I have never yet come across a form of alchemy that does not need an array at all.”

Bradley smiled, and there was no longer anything affable in it. That smile was the stuff of nightmares.

"In fact, according to Major Kimblee, not only were you able to perform alchemy without an array, you performed it without even moving. It makes me wonder why we’ve kept you in those cuffs if that’s the case, but better safe than sorry, eh?” He steepled his fingers. “We also need to take into consideration the fact that the major’s associates gave you quite the roughing up whilst taking you into custody, and yet you don’t seem to have a mark to show for it. Not even a scratch.”

Bradley stood then, as suddenly as if he’d been shot out of a cannon, and Hohenheim heard the snikt of his sword being drawn as he walked around behind Hohenheim’s chair.

The blade smarted against his cheek, drawing blood, and Bradley gave a soft hum of satisfaction as the alchemy crackled and healed him automatically. He walked back around to his seat, wiping the blood off his blade with a handkerchief and settling himself comfortably again.

“Really, a most remarkable individual. You know, Mr Hohenheim, I believe you’re correct when you say you come from nowhere.”

He snapped his fingers, and Hohenheim felt the bag being yanked back over his head.

He heard Bradley’s voice fading out as he gave into the sweet stink of chloroform again.

“Take him to the Fifth.”

For a good five minutes after Trisha’s bombshell dropped, a screaming silence reigned supreme in the bar. Roy had given up attempting to leave and find Hohenheim by any means necessary and he sank back into his chair, attempting to digest what Trisha had just said.

“Trisha…” Riza was the first to speak, her voice harsh and strangled with shock. “What do you mean?”

Trisha didn’t reply for a few moments, and Roy was surprised when she addressed herself to him.

“Roy, you’ve known Hohenheim for a long time. You’ve known him since you were a teenager. Chris, you too, you’ve known him a good ten years. Has he aged in that time? Has he got any grey hairs, any new laughter lines? Has he got any scars? Has he changed at all in physical appearance?”

Roy’s stomach started to churn as he shook his head. Hohenheim had never looked any different to how he had looked when Roy had last seen him just a couple of hours ago.

“Well, fuck,” Chris said softly. “Bradley’s just found himself an actual immortal.”

Roy pressed his hands down flat on the table to try and mask how much they had started to shake with the revelation. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Trisha, I just… How? How old is he, for a start?”

“We don’t know exactly, but at least four hundred and fifty years.” Trisha sighed, staring down at the last drops of brandy in her glass. Roy got the feeling that they’d all need a measure after everything was explained. “I don’t know how much of this he would want you to know, but if you’re going to help him, you need to know it. He’s never told his story to anyone else before, and he’s lived so long alone because of it. It’s the reason he has no paperwork. It’s not that he’s from another country and he’s here illegally. The country he comes from doesn’t exist anymore. Van is the last Xerxian.”

“Nowhere,” Riza said softly. Roy glanced over at her. “The first time I met him, when he fixed up my back. I asked him where he was from, since he said he wasn’t from Xing. He said nowhere. And I guess that’s true, now.”

“Wait. The last Xerxian. He’s from Xerxes, as in, the place that was wiped out overnight in an event that created the Philosopher’s Stone which is supposed to grant immortality.” Hughes began leafing through all his paperwork again. “Are you telling me that the Philosopher’s Stone never went to Xing and that Hohenheim has it?”

Trisha shook her head. “No. Hohenheim doesn’t have the Philosopher’s Stone. He is the Philosopher’s Stone. After the event, the Philosopher’s Stone did indeed make its way to Xing with some merchants, but they didn’t carry it out of there, it walked on its own two feet. It’s ruby red, but it’s not a rock. The elixir of life runs in his veins.”

Suddenly, everything about the night that Hughes was shot started to make sense. The Philosopher’s Stone was the most powerful alchemic tool that existed. Naturally, if Hohenheim was the Philosopher’s Stone he’d be able to perform the most powerful forms of alchemy there were, without a circle, without any motion, plunging his hands through Hughes’s skin and into his flesh to heal him. And the slashes he’d made into his own palms, his own blood dripping and helping to heal what should have been a mortal wound with the elixir of life.

“How did it even happen?” Hughes asked. “I assume it has to do with the event; but how do you even become a Philosopher’s Stone?”

“I don’t know the full details.” Trisha gave a long sigh. “Van doesn’t like to talk about it. You wouldn’t either, if you’d been through what he’s been through. Every single person in his entire country died in the space of a minute thanks to the actions of one greedy king who wanted the impossible. Every single person except Van, because every single person dying was what made him immortal. And he has had to live with that for over four centuries, knowing that there was nothing he could have done to stop it.”

“Atticus.” Hughes grabbed the paper he’d been looking at earlier. “According to this, Atticus made the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Yes.” Trisha’s voice was soft and sorrowful, and when she looked up, Roy could see that she had started to cry. “Van was born into slavery in Xerxes. Atticus was his master. He’s never told me exactly what happened, but Atticus used him in experiments to create the elixir of life. One experiment went horribly, horribly wrong.”

Roy shivered. He’d bet good money that he knew exactly what that experiment was. The human transmutation circle from the book that Breda and Fuery had shown him floated back to the forefront of his mind. Human transmutation was forbidden to perform, the ultimate taboo among alchemists.

Maybe the desolation of Xerxes was the reason why.

He started to look at it from a different angle, a far more horrible angle. Human transmutation was forbidden for alchemists to perform, and if Atticus had performed it, then he had indeed paid the ultimate price. But what of the human who was being transmuted – likely against their will? What kind of horror would Hohenheim have gone through if that was what had happened to him?

One thing was for sure – there was no way that he was letting Bradley get his hands on Hohenheim.

He looked over at Trisha, sobbing silently in Rebecca’s arms as the rest of the group looked at each other with desperate eyes. Roy knew that they were all thinking the same thing. They needed a plan, and fast. The urgency of the situation, and the stomach-churning sight of Trisha, and the chill threat of Hohenheim’s unknown fate all galvanised him into action. When push came to shove, he was a military man and he had civilians to protect and subordinates looking to him for leadership.

“Right. Here’s what we’ll do. Falman, you’re the paperwork master, you’ve got access to all the records. This probably isn’t on any records, but the secret police still have to submit timecards like everyone else and their car mileage and fuel expenditure is on record somewhere; see if you can find out where they’ve taken Hohenheim from that. Fuery, can you patch into their channels and see if you can pick up any kind of chatter? They usually use code when they’re on the phone or on radio – Breda, that’s your area.”

“I can’t get into the radio rooms at this time of night, I’m not cleared for that level of access,” Fuery pointed out.

“Not a problem.” Chris held up a bunch of keys. “I was beginning to think I was being overly paranoid when I invested in that kit, Roy. I’m glad it has a use now. You can set up in the office, Fuery.”

Fuery and Breda followed her out to the back rooms, and Roy continued.

“Havoc, take Trisha home and keep her safe; if she was with him when they bagged him then they might come looking for her as a loose end. Armstrong, you’re with me. Hughes, you’re supposed to be dead,” he added when Hughes opened his mouth to protest at not being given a task. “All right team, let’s move out and get Hohenheim back.”

No one argued the matter, all of them jumping into action without a word or a second thought. Hohenheim had been an institution at the bar for as long as any of them had known the place existed, and like Roy, none of them could bear the thought of anything happening to him.

Especially not now, knowing what he had already been through in his long life.

#FMA Brotherhood #FMA Fanfiction #Riza Hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Trisha Elric #Van Hohenheim #Fic: Forged Through Fire

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