#and it’s why I was afraid of counseling for so long. that someone would be like ‘what can we unearth in Maria’s psyche’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pimosworld · 1 year ago

Text

Unrequited

Pairing-Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Francisco was always afraid of settling down. He left Santiago to pick up the pieces after Colombia and now someone else is taking his place. Now he must cope with repairing the past without disrupting his future.

CW-18+,MDNI,Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, Frankie has a lot of apologies to hand out, lots of food references, fun game of poker and a revelation, more apologies and a proposition.

WC-5.9k

A/N- Happy Frankie Friday, our boy is still going through it a bit but that’s to be expected when you ghost your friends for three years. At least he has Benny for some comedic relief.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter II Pining

verb

gerund or present participle: pining

suffer a mental and physical decline, especially because of a broken heart.

You stretch your sore muscles as best you can with the human weight that is Santiago pressed against you, his arm holding you close even in sleep. You knew he was getting better and that he was starting to get over it but Frankie’s sudden appearance is causing a relapse in his behavior.

The mornings you got out of bed before him or took too long to tell him you were running late from work would be met with his frantic state of mind. Always afraid of being abandoned again, left without a word or goodbye. You assured him as much as you could that you would never do something like that. Months of convincing him to go to counseling was met with short words and utterings of I don’t have a problem. It wasn’t until he’d awoken to you crying and scared one night that he was yelling in his sleep that you were going to leave him that he finally caved and went.

Therapy helped tremendously but you can’t blame him after the harsh words that were spoken last night that he thinks you couldn’t hear. Venomous words spoken between ex lovers, hurt people hurt people.

So you lay here a little longer, waiting for him to stir awake so he doesn’t think you left him. You rub your legs together easing the sore ache from the previous night, trying to ignore your full bladder.

You can feel his lips on the back of your neck, slowly making their way down leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Good morning baby, how’d you sleep?” He doesn’t answer with words, just hums as he grinds his hips into you. Avoiding the question that you already know the answer to. His hand slides over your stomach, dipping lower before you gently grab his wrist pulling it to your lips as you turn to face him. “As much as I would love to do that again, I really need to pee.”

“Why didn’t you get up?” His sleepy voice cracks a little as he dips his head to kiss your neck. Your nails scratch at his scalp as you card through his salt and pepper curls. You tug on them eliciting a groan from him as he meets your eyes. You trace your thumb along the stubble of his jaw, memorizing every line and scar that you may have missed the last time you looked at him. He’s so distractingly handsome that you almost forgot he asked you a question. One that he already knows the answer to.

“I wanted to wait until you were awake.” You give him a wary smile almost ashamed to admit it, not wanting him to feel bad.

His face drops and he wraps his arms around you, rolling you on top of him until you’re almost falling out of the bed, forced to plant your feet on the cold hardwood floor. He whistles low as you pad to the bathroom, trying not to feel flustered knowing he’s checking you out. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, he always makes you feel giddy.

When you exit the bathroom he’s propped up on one elbow holding the blanket up so you can join him in the warm confines of your bed. He shudders as your cold hands roam up his toned chest and wrap around his neck.

“You can’t be getting a uti because you’re afraid to wake me up cariño.” He half mumbles into your hair.

You sigh deeply. “I know…I just didn’t want you to wake up and not find me there.”

He kisses your forehead lingering briefly before speaking. “I know you’re worried about me with Frankie being here but I promise I’m okay.” He even thinks he sounds unsure of himself as he says it.

“I know you’re not okay and that’s fine, you just have to remember you’re not doing this alone.”

You’re an enigma, he thinks. How you manage to find the good in all situations. You’re the glass half full to his half empty. He was surviving before he met you and that was fine but he can’t go back to just surviving now that he knows what it’s like to be thriving.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He slides his hands up your back massaging and kneading the stress out of you.

“Mmmm…you’ve had your fair share of things you did to deserve being taken care of.” His stomach grumbles and you both chuckle. “Speaking of that…do you want me to make breakfast?”

“If I ever say no to your food I want you to shoot me.”

****

Frankie didn’t want to get out of bed, the exhaustion had fully settled in and he quickly realized how long it’s been since he actually rested. Constantly trying to stay busy to keep from actually feeling something. The conversation with Santiago had gone in the complete opposite direction he had hoped but he only had himself to blame. He didn’t expect to just waltz back into his life like nothing had happened but you being here was an unexpected surprise and most certainly changed his approach.

He’d never slept in the guest room so it went unnoticed at how beautiful the morning sun looked peaking through the curtains. The orange Santiago had insisted on painting one accent wall compliments it perfectly. It wasn’t until they bought this house that Frankie realized how much Santi cared about interior design. He wanted to tease him about it but opted not to when he saw how relaxed he was deciding on paint colors and furniture.

It’s an odd feeling washing over him as the smell of butter and cinnamon infiltrates his senses. It’s been too long since he’s awoken to the smell of anything other than stale cigarettes and last night's leftovers. He’s kicking the blankets off before he can register and rummaging through his bag for a pair of sweats. He can hear some soft singing coming from the kitchen as he makes his way down the hall. The smell is getting stronger as his stomach rumbles and Santiago comes into view, leaning back in the chair at the kitchen island as he not so subtly watches you retrieve the mystery item from the oven.

The man was always a perv when it came to checking him out and it seems nothing has changed. He can’t really blame him as he takes in your appearance. Another one of Santiago’s shirts adorning your frame and some of the shortest shorts he’s ever seen just barely covering your ass.

“Nice of you to join us.” Santi’s arms are crossed with a slight smirk at catching Frankie ogling you.

“Morning Francisco!” You’re beaming as you wipe your hands on a spare towel and begin to plate what he now sees to be biscuits. “I hope you’re hungry, I made cheddar honey biscuits, bacon and I’m about to start the eggs.” As if you couldn’t get any more perfect.

Santi gestures to the seat next to him and Frankie pulls out the chair, starting to feel a little less like a guest in his own home.

“How do you take your eggs?”

“Over medium” “Over medium”

If the tandem answer bothers you, you don’t show it as you expertly crack an egg into a bowl on the side of the stove and one into the pan. Santi adjusts next to him, seemingly a little flustered attempting to ignore his slip up.

“You don’t have to make-“

“Don’t be a martyr over eggs.” Santi cuts him off before he can finish and you turn, giving him a stern look before whisking the mixture in the bowl.

“At least he doesn’t eat them scrambled like a child.” You mutter under your breath and Frankie tries to hide his smile behind his hands as Santi flips him off.

“I heard that chiquita.” He teases and you shrug as you plate up the rest of Frankie’s food. Retrieving the bacon from the warm oven and setting two hefty biscuits next to it.

Frankie stares at the plate, much like he did last night and he doesn’t even know where to begin. That’s a lie actually, he knows as he dives into the biscuit without another word. The buttery flaky crust with a hint of something sweet hits his senses and he can’t help the moan that escapes him.

He can see your shoulders moving as you laugh and he doesn’t even care with how good this is. Your food is a religious experience that only a chosen few should get to enjoy. As he glances over at Santi eating in silence a tinge of jealousy sparks in him that he gets to indulge in this all the time. You,this food,this life. For now Frankie has to live with the choices he made.

“Don’t be shy Frankie there’s plenty more.” You politely cover your mouth while you eat your breakfast and somehow finish cleaning the mess in a matter of minutes.

Frankie leans back in his chair rubbing his belly unashamed. Santi glances over noticing the way he looks so content and a slight gleam in his eye. “So does this guy do anything around here?”

Santi stands from his chair gathering both of their plates. “I provide other services.” He kisses you on the cheek as you playfully swat at him. “I also wash the dishes.”

“You own a dishwasher.”

“Frankie I don’t make the rules, I just do what the lady asks.” Of course Santiago doesn’t notice that this is the first time he’s used his name, not his government name or his call sign or the dreaded name he gets when people are mad at him but his chosen name. Frankie watches you both as you exchange subtle glances, some unspoken language between the two of you that he used to understand but it’s been too long.

Without words Santi is grabbing things from the fridge and setting them out on the counter for you as you retrieve some bowls from the cabinet. You’re filling a large pot with water as Santi returns to his seat at the island having fulfilled his duties of making piles of unfinished ingredients on the table.

“How much time do I have?”

“We don’t have to be at Wills until one so don’t rush cariño.” Santi says as Frankie gives him a quizzical look. “Barbecue…you’re going.”

Frankie tries to school the expression on his face into a neutral one as his stomach drops. He knew he needed to talk to all of them eventually, but he didn’t anticipate it being his second day back. He knows he can’t avoid the conversation forever and the sooner he rips the band aid the better. There’s too much weighing on his shoulders that he needs to get off so they can all live better lives. At least Frankie hopes after he talks to them that they are appreciative and see all he’s done to get back in their good graces.

“If I don’t make this pasta salad Benny will kill me.” He realizes after a moment that you’re speaking to him and he can’t wipe this dumb look off his face.

“Well if it’s anything like I’ve had already I can see why he’s obsessed.” You smile up at him as you chop some bell peppers with perfect precision. He’s not sure how you’ve not cut yourself as he looks from your eyes to the cutting board, but it’s almost reminiscent of how he feels when he’s flying; effortless.

Frankie finally breaks your gaze as you turn around to pour the pasta in the boiling water. Santi’s eyes bore into him as he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed. Santiago was never good at subtlety, especially when it came to his outward appearance. If he had to title this one it would read if you keep flirting with her I’ll smother you with a pillow.

****

The three of you are in Santi’s Jeep on the way to Will's house. You insisted after going back and forth with Frankie to the point of awkwardness that he sit in front. You hilariously and completely ended the argument when you sat in the back and shrugged your shoulders knowing Santi would riot if he was made out to be some chauffeur with you both in the back.

The car smells divine…you managed to make two types of salad, some cupcakes and those cookies he can’t stop thinking about. Frankie’s recently caught wondering how Santi is still in such good shape with the way you cook. He watches the way his muscles strain against the black tee shirt as he shifts gears. The way his jeans fit his thighs just right as he-

“Something on your mind Fish?” He’s been caught this time and it certainly won’t be the last time.

Frankie’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. “Nothing…Just wondering how you still have a waistline when you live with Julia Child.”

You laugh and bite down on your lip to stop it from bubbling over in full blown hysterics. Frankie looks away but you don’t miss the way he smiles as his tongue pokes out from between his teeth.

Frankie stares out the window, something blooming in his stomach at the way he made you laugh again. It’s infectious and at this point he doesn’t even care…he knows full well that if he looks to his left he’ll see the second chapter of Santi’s death glare titled keep it up and I’ll crash this car.

****

It’s not a far drive to Will's house, but there was no way they were walking in the Florida heat with all this food in tow. Frankie swallows hard as Santi makes the last turn down their street. He has seen this house many times, it still sits beautifully at the end of the block nestled among two live oak trees in the front yard. The most unique house on the block and the largest backyard. He helped Benny and Will look for it so they could all be close to each other. The plan fell into place just before they left for Colombia. They closed on the house one month before leaving and for that Frankie is relieved to see all was not lost in that jungle.

He rubs his clammy hands along his jeans as Santi parks the car in the long driveway. He waits for a moment as you both exit the car to gather the supplies. He wants to get in the driver's seat and head home or maybe just get out and walk straight to the airport. Anything to avoid the possible rejection he faces when he walks into Wills backyard to see his best friends brothers again.

The passenger side door is opened for him and you’re standing there expectantly with your hand out. “He said you might need some help.”

It feels childish and yet he needs it all the same as he takes your hand in his and steps out of the Jeep. It’s so small in his as you lace your fingers and pull him to the front door instead of the side gate to spare him a brief moment to gather his thoughts. He lets you lead as he tries not to step on your feet that need a few more strides than him as you approach the large wooden door.

The house is pristine and cozy on the inside as you enter. Santiago’s in the open concept kitchen putting away all the goods you made as Frankie looks around for anyone else. You squeeze his hand once before letting go to join him in the kitchen.

“Ben already took the pasta salad so that’s as good as gone.” Santiago says as he cracks open a beer and hands it to Frankie. Anything to take the edge off.

“I’m gonna go find Emma babe.” You kiss Santi on the cheek as you exit the kitchen leaving the two men alone.

Frankie’s eyes go wide as you shriek from the patio and Santi laughs. “Put me down Ben!”

Bennys voice is carried away with the sound of the music over the outside speakers. “Not a chance sweetheart.”

Santi nods to Frankie as he takes a huge swig of his beer. “Let’s head outside before she kills him.”

****

“Nice to finally meet you Frankie.” Will’s wife Emma is just as he pictured. Tall brunette with perfect hair and an even more perfect smile. She’s been kind enough to show him around the house and the yard as a means of distraction from the not so warm welcome he got from Will.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He sounds like a kid that just got scolded for stealing as he removes his hat and scrubs his fingers through his hair. Emma’s showing him the room Benny is in. He spent what little money he had to open his own gym so they’re graciously letting him stay to save some money. Frankie feels particularly guilty about that right now but soon that will change.

“The office will hopefully be a nursery soon.” She turns to him offering a genuine smile. “Then we’ll have a live-in babysitter.”

“I’m hoping you don’t mean Benny.” Frankie chides as she throws her head back and laughs.

“He’s not all that bad and he could do with some practice.” Emma motions with her hands as she finishes the tour and Frankie feels like he’s having some sort of out of body experience. Walking through the home that he helped pick out so that Will could start a family. Everyone was doing exactly what they set out to do and Frankie was just…idling.

“Frankie?” She’s staring at him now, nearly eye to eye with him as she places her hand gently on his elbow so as not to startle him. He supposed she’s used to dealing with spooked vets by now. It’s almost like approaching a caged animal. “He’ll come around…I know he loves you, he just needs some time.”

Frankie’s too embarrassed to ask if she means Santi or Will so he just nods and says ‘thank you’.

****

Frankie’s on his second helping of pasta salad as he sits at a table with the guys and some of Benny's friends from the gym listening to Santi drone on about his security consulting business. Of course Santiago found a way to travel around telling other people how to do their job.

Frankie looks up from his plate to see Will staring daggers at him. He’s a coward to look away but he’s not ready to face that scrutiny. It’s not much better as his line of vision drifts to you and Emma laying out by the pool talking and laughing. The sun is beating down on his neck as a bead of sweat trickles down his spine. You roll to your front on the lounger and untie the strings of your top. The white bikini already left little to the imagination and now he can just barely see the soft curve of your breast as you adjust to get comfortable.

“They’re perfect aren’t they. ” Frankie nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of Ben’s voice in his ear.

“What?!”

“Emma and Will…I saw her giving you a tour earlier.” Ben winks at him as he steals a bite from Frankie’s plate. Frankie starts to speak but Ben cuts him off and leans in closer. “I know everyone has already given you enough shit so I’m not going to. I just hope you’re here to stay.”

“I am.” Frankie says it a little louder than he intended and he can feel Will and Santi’s eyes on him. The mindless chatter amongst the table has continued but the four of them are waiting on a limb as Frankie realizes this is the first time he’s actually said it. “I’m making plans to stay.”

Santi raises his eyebrows in surprise as Will finally speaks. “You gonna find a flying gig?”

Frankie doesn’t really need to work but he supposes he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t find something to occupy his mind. “I don’t know yet but I’ve got some money saved until I figure it out.” He takes a sip of his beer to disguise the little white lie.

Ben slaps him on the back and he splutters his beer. “You can come help me at the gym.” Ben’s shadow boxing him as he tries to clear his throat. “Let’s see if this old man can still spar with the great Benjamin Miller.” His friends at the table roll their eyes along with the rest at his large ego.

Frankie points the butt of his empty bottle at the younger man. “Ben, I can still kick your ass.”

“Is that so?”

Frankie nods slowly.

“I don’t think he can climb a flight of fucking stairs.” Will's voice cuts in and the table goes silent. There’s a slight smirk on his face as Benny erupts in laughter next to him. Santi drops his head to the table as the rest of the men join in and for a fleeting moment it all feels like it used to.

****

The parties died down a bit and it’s just the guys left while you and Emma say your goodbyes. The boys are staying for poker and that will give Frankie the perfect opportunity to talk to them. He’s not sure how much longer he could hold it in.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine walking home?” You approach Santi and the guys around the kitchen island.

“They’ll both survive.” Will answers for him as he finishes the dishes in the sink.

“Cariño please don’t wait up for me this time.” Santi says through gritted teeth as he pulls you into a hug, kissing you on the cheek. Ben steps up behind him making mock kissing gestures and Will grabs him by the collar dragging him off to the garage.

Frankie awkwardly starts to walk away and leave you two alone when you call out to him.

“Francisco Morales…make sure he doesn’t gamble all his money away.” It’s said in jest as you gather your things to leave.

“I’ll do my best, hermosa but I make no promises.”

Frankie’s sure you don’t notice the slip up as you wave them goodbye and exit the front door. Heat creeps up his neck and he doesn’t even want to look Santi in the eyes.

“Hermosa hmmm?” Santi nods his head toward the garage door and steps beside him. “I see you still get flustered when beautiful people use your full name.”

Frankie follows closely behind as he breathes out through his nose.

This was going to be a very long night.

****

They’ve got him all wrong.

What started out as a fun game of poker quickly became a tense game of figuring out what Frankie’s play was. They’ve wrongly mistaken his nervous face for a poker face and everyone keeps folding.

Just spit it out

Frankie’s sitting here in Will's converted three car garage. Half of it was a shop to work on his motorcycle and whatever project his mind needed to keep him occupied. The other half is almost an exact replica of their favorite bar, all the way down to the teak wood flooring and an old school saloon type dresser with a roll top bar in front. He’s been trying to admire all the work he’s put in. The pool table and matching poker table just add to the charm.

You’re stalling

“Fish, what’s your move?” Santiago’s voice is dripping with annoyance as Will stares down his cards like they’re going to change suits right in front of him.

He stares down at his hand and the pile of chips in front of him. He actually has a good hand this time, three of a kind and pocket aces.

It’s not about the money

“All in.” He pushes his chips in the middle while Santi and Will quickly follow suit. Benny scoffs from behind the bar as he pours himself another beer having lost all his chips ages ago.

“You losers are gonna fall for it again?”

“Who are you calling a loser?” Will chides the younger man as Santi laughs behind his cards.

“I can read this pendejo like a book…he doesn’t have shit.” Santi says the last part playfully but the first part used to ring true.

Frankie lays down his cards and Will curses under his breath and throws his face down. Bennys laughing to himself over in the corner but Santiago’s grin is deepening by the second. It takes more muscles to frown, which is why he thinks Santi has such strong features. When he smiles though…it almost knocks him off his feet.

A trickle of sweat runs down Frankie’s back as Will raises an eyebrow at Santi. He leans back in his chair crossing his arms. “Let’s see ‘em Pope.”

Money,Money,Money

Ten,Jack,Queen,King,Ace. Each flick of his wrist and the sound of the cards on the table as Santiago draws out his torture echo in the room. He leans in dramatically, dragging all the chips to sit in front of him. The sound of Benny whooping behind him and Will’s slow clap is drowned out by the ringing in his ears as he stares at the Royal Flush in the suit of hearts. Okay karma,you made your point.

“I went back for the money.”

He knew there was no right way to drop this kind of bomb on them. Judging by the silence in the room, perhaps there was a wrong way.

It’s so quiet you can hear the rustling of the chips settled in front of Santi falling by the wayside.

Will locks eyes with Frankie as he leans back in his chair. The weight of what he just said hits him like a ton of bricks.

“So we’re rich.” Ben’s voice cuts through the silence as he pours himself another drink.

“Ben, are you kidding me!” Will goes to stand as Santi lays a gentle hand on him urging him backwards.

As crass as it may sound coming out of the younger man’s mouth he couldn’t hide from it anymore. “Ya Ben, we’re rich.”

“Why?” Santi sounds calmer than he would’ve imagined after being silent for so long. He expected a fight from him, yelling and cursing. Frankie’s brain is doing somersaults trying to keep up with his emotions. Did he want Santi to yell? To tell him he was wrong for putting his life in danger.

Maybe there’s some weird fucked of part of Frankie that wants to be treated like a martyr so he can justify all the shit he’s put them through these last few years. Or maybe it’s just hard for him to realize that Santi was capable of changing for the right person.

“I did it for you…for us.” Frankie corrects although he’s not sure why. He could be nothing but honest in front of the men he risked his life for.

Santi huffs a laugh as he shifts in his seat to look at Frankie. He picks up a stray chip rolling it on top of his fingers, some nervous tick he picked up during their army days. “You sure you didn’t do it for you.” There he is.

“What the fucks that suppposed to mean.” Frankie bites out ready for a fight. The fight he’s wanted since he landed here, back home.

“You’re gonna tell me that you didn’t go on some suicide mission without telling us…” He takes a moment to calm his breathing and lower his voice. “You did this so you could come back with something. To show us that you didn’t just leave everything for no reason. That you didn’t walk away from the best thing in your life because you got scared.” He tosses the chip and it lands in front of Frankie as Ben whistles low under his breath.

Santiago always had a way with words. He could rally the team when they were feeling down or nervous about a mission. He could convince higher ups to do things for him and make it seem like it was their idea to begin with. He could charm the pants off anyone he laid his sights to for one night or wax poetic to the love of his life.

He could also make his words cut like a knife. Those same words could make any bullet Frankie’s ever taken feel like a bee sting in comparison. If Frankie wanted him to see that he’s changed he was going to half to meet him more than half way. He’s wounded and hurt, absolutely incapable of seeing anything besides what he’s been through the last three years.

“You’re right.” Foreign words leave his lips not often spoken to the man with the ego the size of Texas. Frankie scrubs his jaw, kneading his fingers in that spot of patchy beard. “You’re right Santiago, I didn’t want to come back empty handed with nothing to show for myself. I felt like a failure after Colombia.”

“We all did.” Will cuts in as he slaps his hand down on the table. Loose chips falling to the floor.

Frankie lets out a long sigh. “I know man…I don’t mean.” Frankie underestimated how much damage he had done. Not just to Santi but to everyone. “I’m sorry. This was the only way I knew how to apologize, even if it comes off wrong I don’t regret one second of it. We all deserve this money and you know that.” He points at Will before continuing. “You can be mad at me all you want, I'm not running this time. I’m gonna stay and fix this even if it takes me the rest of my life.”

Santi stands abruptly, saluting Ben and squeezing Will's shoulder as he exits the garage.

Will slides the small notepad for scratch paper towards him, scribbling down some numbers. He clicks the pen and tosses the notepad to Frankie as he stands from the poker table. “I suppose this is my fault.”

Frankie tilts his head in question.

“I gave those coordinates to Pope.” He clicks his tongue as he rests his hands on the table next to him, eyes drawing up in mischief. “But he told me he lost them.”

Frankie stares down at a long list of numbers. “What’s this?”

“My banking info.” Will looks at him then a little more tired behind the eyes than he’s ever seen. “I love you Fish, he loves you too.” Will slaps him on the back and exits the garage leaving Frankie with the younger Miller.

Frankie doesn’t turn around but he can picture Ben behind him. “Goodnight Ben, my favorite and only brother in the world. I love you soooo much.” He’s definitely miming with his hands. “Goodnight Will, even though you’re a pain in my ass I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

Frankie laughs a little bit. It's short lived as a cold piece of ice hits the back of his neck running down his shirt right into the open crack of his jeans.

“What the fuck Ben!” Frankie turns in his seat to see him crunching on some ice. He narrowly misses another piece thrown at his head.

“I want my money by tomorrow.” He does his worst impression of a mobster as he leaves Frankie alone in the garage.

****

Santi sits on the curb in front of Will’s house as he hangs his head in his hands. Thankfully for him it’s a decently cool night compared to the awful humidity he’s usually subjected too. He often wonders why they all settled here instead of somewhere off the grid. It’s comforting in a sense, it feels like home.

It’s tearing him up inside holding onto all this anger for Frankie when he really just wants to tell him he loves him. He thought he would feel better after getting it all out, finally laying down his cards so to speak. It brewed somewhere underneath for all those years and as cathartic as it was to say it out loud it didn’t change what happened.

Now he’s left seemingly with everything he could possibly want and he feels numb.

Santi hears the front door close softly behind him as Frankie makes his way down the path. He doesn’t want to argue anymore, he just wants to let this all go and finally live a peaceful life with enough money to make sure he’ll never have to sweat again.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” He looks up to Frankie holding out his hand to help him off the curb. “Please forgive me.” His soft brown eyes look down at him. The ones he could never resist even if he tried.

He accepts his hand as he hoists him off the ground dusting off his jeans. “I forgave you a long time ago Fish.I had to for my own sanctity.”

If it’s a misstep he doesn’t correct himself. Sanity or sanctity aside, he knows hating someone for that long will eat you alive. “I would not be capable of loving her the way that I do, if I had not forgiven you.”

“Do you still love me?” Frankie asks, as selfish as it may be. Not entirely sure of what answer he’s expecting.

He’s backlit by the street lamps creating a soft halo around his brown and graying curls. Santiago has pictured them doing this walk so many times in his dreams. Moving here to start a life with him, walking home after a long day of hanging out with their brothers to head home and curl up in the soft sheets of the master bedroom.

“I never stopped loving you.” Frankie takes his hand then and he doesn’t pull away. “I never could even if I tried.”

Santi’s trying not to get choked up as he stares at their hands. Frankie grips his chin tilting it up towards him but he abruptly pulls away.

“I thought you said-“

“I know what I said. I love you.” He gestures between them. “But this…can’t happen without her.”

Frankie’s nostrils flare as he gives him an aporetic look.

“Don’t give me that shit Frankie, I see the way you look at her.”

“Looking isn’t illegal.” His possessiveness over someone that doesn’t belong to him comes out harsher than he intended.

“No you’re right it’s not, but you can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Santi spits back at him as he glances over at the house that’s no longer Will’s. “Let’s keep moving.”

Santi gets two steps ahead before Frankie yanks his arm back bringing him face to face. Daring him to call his bluff.

“Isn’t that what you’re telling me…that I can have my cake and eat it too.” His body’s pressed against his, they’re so close he can breathe his air as he practically spits fire.

“Yes Francisco, that’s what I’m telling you.” He gently prys Frankie’s hand from his arm putting some space between them. “But I’m not doing it behind her back.”

Prev/Next

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Taglist- @ghostslillady @criticalarchitecture @ael-xander @tinytinymenace @for-a-longlongtime @itsokbbygrl-library @mymo-n n@lola-lola-lola @readingiskeepingmegoing @legendary-pink-dot @reallyrallyauthor @writefightandflightclub @campingwiththecharmings @mellymbee @hiroikegawa @sylviantree @casa-boiardi

94 notes · View notes

captainuranium543 · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I just wanted to know your thoughts on this post here: https://www.tumblr.com/yamishika/761491771751596032/something-that-has-been-bothering-me-regarding-the

Do you agree with this? Disagree with this? Was this just a light comedic moment? It def feels out of character for Jellal to a large degree. You have such great takes on Erza in general, that I wanted to check about this. I tried looking at your posts (now that I have better cell service) and didnt see this on your posts list. Apologies if you’ve covered it already. Thanks in advance!

the post in question^

thanks so much for this ask actually cuz I have been resisting the urge to yap about this forever and now I have an excuse ahaha.

honestly I completely agree, I've been saying it forever but as fairy tail has gone on Mashima has kind of stopped putting as much thought into it has he did early on. Early on the characters where the center of the narrative and honestly I think that's when ft is at its best because that has always been the best part if ft as a whole. The tower of heaven and the trauma Erza and Jellal faced along with countless others had so much impact on the story as late as season 6 because of just how massive a tragedy it was.

starting with Erza and Kiria, it feels especially disgusting for this to happen to specifically Erza because she has spent so much of her life being treated as less then human already. In the tower her purpose was literally to work herself to death, they needed sacrifices and lots of them. As soon as she wasn't useful to them anymore she would killed without a second thought and her life would only be another number added to the massive death toll of the r system project. she wasn't a person in there, she was a tool. Even after the tower she was still under someone else's control (on a leash you might say) with Jellal holding the lives of her friends over her head to keep her quiet, constantly taunting his power over her by spying on her with seigrain in the magic counsel. this is exactly what happens with Kiria and it feels genuinely horrifying to see it happen again but still its just played for fanservice and I find that incredibly irritating.

as for the Erza vs Jellal fight in the Aldoron arc, here we have a scene that is objectively horrifying to both of them. Erza and Jellal share INTENSE trauma associated with mind control and the loss of free will, and yet the scene is played for laughs and fanservice.

I do understand why Hiro did this, if they took the scene seriously it would probably set Jellal right back into his old ways again of avoiding Erza like the plague which he doesn't want because he's trying to push them closer together. I get that but its still feels like such a missed opportunity to give them some kind of emotional development which neither has had in so long. I'm gonna get into my own idea for the fight here so bear with me.

The fight begins and they intercut it with flash backs to the tower of heaven arc, or even further back to their actual childhood, showing how genuinely afraid of him Erza is right now while also trying to control herself and keep her "fight" instinct at bay because she doesn't want to hurt him. the fight from her perspective should be chaotic, rapidly throwing her between past and present while she desperately tries to hold onto a sense of reality and remind herself its not him.

now imagine this, at some point she loses control and really starts to spiral and he gets the upper hand. she's totally beaten and exhausted after trying to fight him and her demons at once and while she's on the ground he approaches her, lifts her up, and we get a call back to this scene.

throughout this fight we never really see Jellal's face, its mostly been from Erza's perspective and when we do see his face its a flashback to a different time while he was mind controlled. Now in the present jellal says something, idk what he would say exactly, but its something similar to the "it was the color of your hair" moment where it reminds Erza of something he said to her while he was himself. Erza finally snaps back to reality, she looks down at him and we finally get a clear view of his face in the present, and we see that he's crying.

that is enough to fully snap Erza back and finally give the fight her all, because its not just for her sake its for both of them. he would never forgive himself if he hurt her so she's going to have to be the one to do it even if it hurts because its the only way she's going to save him. and more than anything she wants to save him. (Again, call back to the tower of heaven, she was to late to save him then and it weighs on her to this day, she wont be to late this time.) anyway fight ends shortly after that she knocks him out and she's crying because obviously she never wanted to hurt him either she's just taking one for the team (like always but that's another rant). Just before Jellal passes out he looks at her and he thanks her for saving him (ONCE AGAIN CALL BACK TP THE TOWER OF HEAVEN but this time its not manipulation he's being fr showing us that its really him now). he passes out, erza gets up, looks back at him maybe one last time, says shes sorry, then goes off to go keep fighting. fight over

case and point I think this could have been sick as hell and i'm sad it didn't happen. its not that I have a problem with fanservice I just think it should be tasteful at least a little.

#fairy tail #yappin #jellal fernandes #erza scarlet #jerza #ig its kinda jerza #anyway yea i have thoughts on this #lots of em

35 notes · View notes

nophunleague · 10 months ago

Text

stare decisis: chapter six - praeterita vitas

praeterita vitas: latin for past lives

masterlist

wc: 1187

rafael barba x original female character

Whatever progress Quinn had thought she made on her relationship with her co-counsel and the squad during the Brubeck case had proven to be futile. Not even a week later, there she is again, alone in the office prepping for court while Barba is off running suspects down with the squad.

She paces around the room barefoot, heels discarded in the late afternoon hour, while she practices her opening statement for the trial that starts tomorrow.

“Members of the jury. Detached from reality, devoid of decency, dangerous. Three things that you will learn describe the defendant, Beau Watts. My name is Quinn Brady, throughout this trial myself and my co-counsel, Rafael Barba, will prove to you each and every element of the crime of sexual assault in the state of New York beyond a reasonable doubt. And before we start talking about the evidence you will learn about, we want to define what beyond a reasonable doubt means-” she’s cut off by a voice from the doorway of her office. The notes she’s holding in her left hand fall to her side and she looks to the door.

“Do you always define the burden? What purpose does that serve?” Carisi is posted up, small notepad in his hand - taking notes.

“Detective, you shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she maneuvers back toward her desk, throwing the notepad down on the tabletop. “I define the burden because people don’t understand that you don’t have to be 100% certain, as bad as that sounds. And I introduce myself and Mr. Barba so that the jury sees us as people, not robots trying to put someone in prison,” he nods along in understanding as he scribbles her words down. “Barba tired of tutoring you?”

“Maybe, Miss Brady. It's nearing the end of the semester so I have a lot of questions,” Sonny shrugs sheepishly, she motions to the chair in front of her desk and he takes a seat. “Say you have evidence pertaining to the victim that makes them look less credible than would be preferred, how would you handle that?” Quinn sits across from the eager part time law student.

“You draw the sting, you mention it - get it out there in front of the jury before the defense has a chance to make it look like you’re hiding it or afraid of it. I prefer to do it during opening statements, especially if I know that the defense already knows about it,” Sonny nods along understandingly. “What makes you want to practice law?”

“I’m not sure I want to ma’am, just thought it might make me a better detective,” he explains, she looks at him inquisitively.

“You’re going to law school? To be a better cop? That had to have been an incredibly unique personal statement for your applications,” she laughs, her head falling back showcasing the long layers her auburn hair is cut in, he laughs along.

“Why did you choose law?” her frame grows somber in the blink of an eye, raising her head back up to meet his eyes.

“I wanted to serve, in a way that most people never even think of doing. I wanted to represent a system that our country was built on and I wanted to protect and serve,” she grabs the end pieces of a lock of hair and begins to pick at it.

“So you didn’t always want to be a prosecutor then?” he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, she counts the wrinkles on his tense forehead rather than meeting his eyes.

“Yes and no, I did it for a few years at the beginning of my career and then I shifted into a different area of law until I came here, well to Queens,” he can’t sense it but a thick ball of anxiety has begun to crawl its way up her throat, begging her to stop talking about this. “I’ll answer your next question before you ask, and then I really have to get back to work,” she says as politely as possible while he nods, “I worked in the national security area of law, there’s honestly not much I can talk about from my time there anyway.” Sonny’s polite about her cutting the conversation short, he thanks her for her time and is on his way.

Quinn however slows to return to work. She opens a drawer on the side of her desk and pulls out a polaroid of her and a man. They’re both in matching light brown t-shirts, her hair is pulled tightly into a bun at the back of her head and his hair is cut relatively short. His arm is thrown over her shoulder and it looks like she’s laughing at something he said. Her eyes fall to the strip of white at the bottom of the polaroid where she had made a notation.

Zach and Quinn. Fallujah, Iraq. 10 January, 2010.

“Hey Lieutenant Brady! They guys want to know if they can just go outside the wire, just to hangout,” Quinn’s counterpart, Lieutenant Commander Zachary Hamilton calls out to her as he enters their tent of an office.

“I think there’s a fat chance of that Sir,” she laughs as he reaches her, he winks.

“They would be out of your hair if they left, and my hands would be in your hair instead,” his voice is low as he leans closer to her to pick up a file from the table she’s standing next to. Her breath hitches in her throat at the close and public proximity, what they’re doing is inappropriate let alone permissible.

“I don’t think that’s an advisable course of action Sir,” Quinn says loudly as someone begins to walk toward them. It’s Special Operator Second Class Kacey, a member of the team Quinn and Zach are attached to as legal advisors.

“Sir, Ma’am! Let me get a picture of the most amazing legal advisors any SEAL team could ever ask for,” Kacey is holding up the polaroid camera before either officer can affirm or deny permission. Quinn starts to lean away from Zach but still smiles.

“Oh come on Brady, smile for the camera, let’s make this young man’s dreams come true by letting him have a picture of two lawyers,” Zach’s arm is firmly placed across her shoulders in an instant, pulling her into his side forcefully but Quinn laughs along anyway.

“We are the shining example of the Navy’s prime warfighting force Sir, with briefs and legal citations,” she jokes along with him while Kacey snaps two pictures, he keeps one and hands the other to Quinn before excusing himself. A roar of applause from the team can be heard from inside the tent as Kacey appears with a camera. If there’s one thing SEALs like to do when deployed is document their time in the Sandpit. Zach watches it develop over Quinn’s shoulder, his warm breath dusting the back of her neck.

“I like it, keep it and we’ll frame it when we get home,” he whispers and kisses the back of her head lightly after determining the coast was clear.

#svu #law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #amanda rollins #fin tutuola #nick amaro #olivia benson #original character #sonny carisi

31 notes · View notes

greatbritishsimchallenge · 1 month ago

Text

"My goodness, Frankie, look at you! You look so.... grown up! Though you are much, much too thin. Do they not have cake in Sulani? You simply must try the chocolate gateau. I made sure that only our very finest dishes - and some of your old favourites - were made tonight. Oh, how marvellous it is to see you!"

Frankie smiled and laughed, surprised by this joyous, carefree Maggie. She seemed so different from the nervous, insecure Maggie who was always desperate to please.

"I will try the cake," Frankie promised.

"Superb. Now, you must tell me what has brought you back to England. Your letter was most mysterious and vague. Were it not for that recognisable scrawl of your handwriting, I wouldn't have believed it written by you!"

Frankie stalled, unsure of where to begin, "Ummm... I wanted you to meet someone."

Maggie gasped in delight, "A beau? Oh, please tell me you have found your dearest love? Oh, Frankie! Marriage can be a challenge at times, but once you have children you needn't spend much time in one another's company at all. After that, it becomes so freeing! A married woman - and a mother with an heir, no less - may do so much more than these young, unattached ladies."

"No - not marriage. You know I'm not that type."

Maggie rolled her eyes and laughed, "Oh, Frankie, you haven't changed a bit!"

Frankie was again unsure of what to say, though she wanted to reply 'you have'. She could barely recognise this breathless, giggly woman in front of her.

"Who is it, then? Tsk tsk, you mustn't keep me in suspense a minute longer, you wicked little duckling!"

"Perhaps it would just be easiest if I fetch her and let her make her own introductions," said Frankie quickly, almost running from the room before Maggie could stop her.

As Frankie led Morgan to her mama's study, she hissed,

"Whatever you do, do not reveal... your occupation... or your... powers..."

Morgan frowned, "Why? You said Maggie was not the type to hate spellcasters."

"I don't know what this Maggie is capable of thinking or feeling," said Frankie angrily, "No more than I know what you were thinking or feeling when you brought us all here."

Morgan pursed her lips but didn't respond and the rest of the walk to the study was in silence.

When Maggie first saw Morgan, Frankie could see how she tried to hide her confusion and concern behind a polite warmth.

"How do you do," said Maggie, curtseying, "I am most intrigued to make your acquaintance given the air of mystery my sister has kept as to your identity."

Morgan smiled and returned Maggie's curtsey before turning to Frankie, "Give us a moment, will you?"

"My!" exclaimed Maggie in astonishment, "I am not sure to the propriety of a private audience with one whose name remains unknown to me."

Morgan repeated her instruction to Frankie, "Leave us."

Now, Frankie could see that Maggie was afraid, "It's fine, Mags. She's... you're safe."

As Frankie closed the door to the study behind her, she clamped her eyes shut. Normally, she would summon the Maggie and Peggy of her imagination to counsel her and help her see if she was doing the right thing. Now, in the face of the real Maggie and the realisation that her sister had changed beyond recognition, Frankie felt hopelessly lost.

She wasn't sure how long she waited outside the door before Maggie came bursting out, crying, "Oh, Frankie! How could you!"

Morgan slowly followed after her and said sombrely to Frankie, "She wants nothing to do with me. Nor, it seems, with you."

"What - what did you say?" asked Frankie.

"I simply explained who I was. It appears that my existence is sufficient offence for our sister to never forgive either of us. If that is loyalty to you - you really haven't known a loyal soul in your sorry life," said Morgan bitterly.

Previous | Next

#great british sim challenge #sims 4 history challenge

13 notes · View notes

takami-takami · 4 months ago

Text

My school's "care team": hey just checking in! This is [redacted] University's care team. We wanted to talk to you about some things you shared with your advisor?

Me: oh, of course! I told them my dad physically abused me yesterday.

"Care team": yeah, of course. We wanted to go over some housing options if you're interested.

Me: !!! Yes! I would be interested!

"Care team": great! So we have off campus housing connections where you can rent if you would like to rent.

Me: .... So i would just be regular renting.

Them: uhm. Yeah. That's all we have.

Me: I can't, I'm disabled and I don't have an income. I do commissions but its not nearly enough to pay rent. I had to empty all my savings to pay you guys, if I DO get a job which I will probably have to because you wont let me graduate unless I fork up another 9 grand, it will be going towards that. I can't purchase rent right now. Is that all you have for emergency housing for students undergoing abuse or extenuating circumstances? Just lists of places to rent?

"Care team": yeaaaah it is, i know this is an area of need, students need housing resources and we are looking into it for... the future? But uhm. It wont be available for a very long time.

Me: cuz I know someone whose school in cases of emergency can waive fees for dorms, or has housing set aside for that? Do you guys, have like. Financial assistance for emergencies at least?

"Care team": we do have an emergency fund for students! It's just. Uhm. Empty. And will be for a very long time.

Me: okay. I really feel like you guys should probably get on those things because im kind of screwed here. Does student financial services have any loan payment deferments?

"Care team": you would have to talk to them. Maybe they have

Me: I did. They told me to go get a private loan. I will have to go to a loan shark. I also sent a link to scholarships by my advisor, and they were all for high schoolers and engineers and the like. I don't qualify.

"Care team": yeaaaaaah im sorry. If thats whta they said im afraid that's all there is. We also, um. Wanted to reach out to you about our counseling services?

Me: oh yeah! The counseling services! I used to go to them but they booted me off. Kicked me out cuz they said they don't do long-term therapy.

"Care" team: yeaaaaaaah. Sorry. That is the policy. Um.

Me: idk why yall do that. Some of us have disabilities and long term mental illness. That's like, chronic, you know?

"Care" team: ... but you are seeking mental health services?

Me: yeah, I do—

"Care" team: oh great!!!!

Me: I pay out of pocket for that. Since the counseling place here booted me off. I found it off psychology today.

"Care" team: yeaaaaaah. Uhm. Oh! How about the social services department? Im sure youve heard of that as a social work student!"

Me: oh! The one in the basement! Yeah, i used to work there. I mean, i could go to a workshop and make crafts there. Get some free coffee. Maybe look at the poster that shows the address to the food pantry. Idk how that is supposed to help me.

"Care team": Oh. Well! That's all we have today, are there any questions you have for me?

Me: .............

#🐇 rambles

8 notes · View notes

freezerbnuuy · 1 month ago

Text

Act 5:18- Cold Weather, Cold Hearts (Page 3)

LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / WARNINGS | CHAPTERS

← PREVIOUS | BEGINNING | NEXT →

SPOILER WARNING: Block 'divided sims 4 story spoilers' tag if you don't want spoilers whilst scrolling.

Clementia

"How are you faring, Dr. Annorin?"

"Pardon me, Mother Clementia - just Owen now, I'm afraid."

Afraid? What happened? There's no way Owen could have lost his job... is there?

"I also offer counsel during the Fortnight of Mourning. I'm here if you need a listening ear."

"I appreciate your offer, but my issues do not involve the dead."

"It doesn't matter - you can talk about anything you like."

He hesistates for a moment before gritting his teeth to himself and sitting down. He doesn't have his cane, but he's still a little slow on his feet.

"I'm ready when you are."

"Hm. Well, I suppose it's a matter of where to start, isn't it?"

"I may as well start where we left off. Yes, Mother Clementia. After many long years and a legacy of medical study, I am no longer licensed to practice medicine. I was summoned to a hearing by the medical council and found to have been, in their words, 'negligent.'"

Owen's treatments have saved plenty of lives. I can't imagine that someone like him would ever be negligent towards a patient.

"In other words, you lost your license because you have magic? Considering the history of medicine, that seems ridiculous."

Owen makes an awkward coughing sound in this throat. "Not quite, no. Clarity with the patient has had much importance placed upon it in recent years.

By not disclosing the magical contents of my alchemical remedies, and by casting a cleaning spell upon wounds in emergency situations, I subject the patient to something which they could not consent to. I tried to defend my reasoning, and it did nothing. Even though it was in the best interests of the patient, I still lost my position...meanwhile, there are physicians and surgeons out there that still don't know to wash their hands before examinations or surgeries and have survival rates lower than dirt!"

It takes me a while to muster a respose. I can't imagine how it must feel. Owen was incredible at his work and took great passion in it, and to have it taken from him like that even though others out there are far more neglient...

I always thought the Annorins were above the rules, but it seems even he is subject to them. I wonder if that's a part of why he's so furious - a lifetime of almost always getting what he wants, and now this. Still, is there any possibility that other physicians have seen this as a chance to attempt to cut a tall poppy down?

"You still have all of the work you've already done, Owen. All of those books and journal articles, all of those lives saved, and your influence on the world of medicine - it will always be there, even if you are no longer a part of it."

For the first time, I see clear emotion on his face.

"Your kindness is greatly appreciated, Clementia. Since the reveal of my magic, I've been all over the newspapers and pamphlets - all sorts of baseless accusations, and people calling into question my scientific knowledge. In fact, part of the reason I came here was to avoid the ire of my wife. She's livid with me for what I did and for losing my position, but I suppose I can't blame her. She's worried Volpe and Thorne will come for the mansion."

"I can imagine. If Volpe didn't do anything to you back there, I would honestly say your family should be okay, Owen. If he was afraid of you then, then he wouldn't do anything to draw your fury like that."

Owen gives me a dark smile. "Which brings me to my next point - I have been requested by Lord Volpe to be put on trial for 'witchcraft. I will be burned before midnight. At least, that is what Eduardo Volpe believes."

No...Volpe seemed terrified back then - why would he do it? Does he know what'll happen if he kills a spellcaster with such a high profile? There are people he's saved who will no likely come to his defense, not to mention the people that hold him close. I can't imagine what kind of a mess that will be.

"There are plenty of people on your side, Owen. Someone like you could change the way people see magic. I have no doubt in my mind that many people here would stand up for you, even if not everyone will."

He stares down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs together. The feeling must be devastating, and his children must be beyond upset. Even then, this seems like something of an under-reaction.

"If I may ask, Owen - I can't help but feel like you're holding back. You don't need to hold back here. You can be open about your feelings with me."

His expression doesn't change, and he keeps staring at the floor.

"To be completely honest, Mother Clementia, it hasn't fazed me as much as I had expected. As you say, almost everything I know is written in a book or a journal somewhere. It gives me a chance to spend more time with my beloved children - and my wife once she'll let me within one foot of her presence.

In fact, I have been writing a book on the harmony of science and magic for years. I could finally try and get it published." He lets out a deep, cathartic breath. "It's a peculiar feeling, isn't it? It's like a weight has been lifted off my chest. Living a lie since my childhood has done far more damage than I'd thought. To be able to speak freely about it all is quite a wonderful thing.

Like I said, Mother Clementia, I have a plan for every outcome, including this one. If anything is going to kill me eventually, it will be old age or illness. I won't let it be anything or anyone else - especially not Eduardo Volpe."

"Whatever happens, Owen, just know you have my support. We aren't going to let Volpe nor Thorne get away with anything they've done."

There's a shadowy sensation I get from him on occasion, as if he is keeping something from me still. For a man very much on death's door, he still seems convinced that Volpe won't go through with it. All I can hope is that he can sway Volpe tonight like he did back during Juniper's trial.

"Look after yourself, Owen. And if tonight does not go to plan, I will pray for you. I will remember what you did for everyone, and so will many others."

There's a sickening smirk across his face. He lets out a grating cackle. "Oh, don't you worry, Clementia," he says, in a singsong voice. "Tonight will go exactly as planned - for me, anyhow. There is another blessing from losing my position, you see."

His words leave a sickening feeling in my throat.

"Owen...you're not going to do anything awful to yourself, are you?"

"Heavens, no, Mother Clementia, don't you worry. You see, now I am no longer a physician..."

"... I am no longer under oath."

I don't know much about medicine, but I know many physicians extend their promise to never harm a patient to not physically harming anyone. What does he plan on doing? How is he going to do anything when he's tied to a post and set alight?

"No need for that face, Mother Clementia. As you said, I shan't hold back under this roof - and I won't hold back tonight, either."

#divided sims 4 story #freezerbnuuy

4 notes · View notes

thenexusofsouls · 3 months ago

Note

Are there any secrets held by your muse’s culture of origin that are held to be sacred? What are the punishments for revealing these to outsiders?

If your muse was cursed to only be able to tell the complete truth then what would be the consequences? How long would it take them to get into a fight?

When it comes down to it, does your muse even believe that there is such a thing as the objective truth? Or is the world just a morass of conflicting beliefs, convenient lies and subjective opinions?

((All for Zhaan!))

{i am the caretaker of souls} Oh my goodness, these are some meaty questions, heh. Below the cut for length! =)

Are there any secrets held by your muse’s culture of origin that are held to be sacred? What are the punishments for revealing these to outsiders?

So... okay, the short answer is no, to my knowledge Delvians don't have any closely guarded secrets they don't want other races to know about. However, they do have things they closely guard. For example, they are very protective of the process of Unity. They won't do it with just anyone, and it's really rare that they'll do it with non-Delvians. This is because it is an extremely intimate thing that exposed the Delvian mentally and can leave them in a very vulnerable and compromised state.

Something else they're protective of in their culture are the sanctity roots, also called spirit roots. They're not a secret, anyone can see them, but they don't let just anyone get close to them or touch them. This is for two reasons: 1) they're poisonous to the touch to non-Delvians, so for safety's sake, they keep foreigners away, but also 2) they're considered sacred elements within Delvian religion.

And now the consequences, heh. Well, if you pressure a Delvian to engage in Unity with you, you damn well better be prepared to have someone else inside your mind, to know and understand the Delvian way more than you ever probably wanted or needed to, heh, and to be forever changed by the experience. It is said that when one engages in Unity, one leaves a piece of oneself within the mind of their partner, and vice versa. This is what Zhaan is referring to in this gifset. She entered into Unity with Crichton to show him her memories of what she did to Bitaal and help him understand both why she was imprisoned on Moya in the first place and that she has a darker side within her. So it's a life-changing experience that not everyone can cope with. Even if it's a positive encounter, it's still life-altering.

The consequences of touching the sanctity root... are... honestly, I forget, heh. I mean, aside from the Delvians telling you to leave it alone with extreme prejudice, I assume the poison does something but I totally forget what, heh.

If your muse was cursed to only be able to tell the complete truth then what would be the consequences? How long would it take them to get into a fight?

I'm not sure Zhaan would view this as a curse so much as a massive inconvenience, haha. So... lying... with Delvians... is a thing, heh. Even with the Pa'u. Delvian priests are not paladins, heh, they will lie if they have to. Lying with words is viewed as very much a lesser evil to anything a Delvian might actually do. In other words, the moral weight of actions in Delvian culture far outweighs that of words. You can talk a lot of trash, haha, but it's what you actually do and your true intentions behind those actions that determines your connection to your dark side.

Zhaan was not like... a huge liar on the show, honestly, but she did do it. Usually, she would lie to protect or save others, or at least try to. For example, when she was framed for murder on a planet ruled by competing law firms, Zhaan was afraid for Chiana and Rygel when they volunteered to be her legal counsel. Rygel is a compulsive liar and Chiana also has no problem doing it, though she has more control over it than Rygel. But on this planet, if you lie to defend someone in court and they're found guilty, you suffer their fate along with them. Since Zhaan was facing death, she didn't want to take Chiana and Rygel with her... so she lied to the judge. She said she committed the murder, she acted alone, yep, she did it, she doesn't need legal counsel, she pleads guilty. Fortunately, her plea was rejected, but that's an instance in which she was willing to lie to protect her friends.

So if Zhaan was no longer able to do things like that, it would frustrate her, honestly. There are times when a simple lie could save lives. Sometimes many lives. Sometimes when there may not be any other options. So if all she could do was tell the truth all the time, that would remove an option from her repertoire of things she can do to help those she loves.

Okay so, I'm not sure if the second question about fighting is meant to follow the truth-telling one or be its own separate thing, but... Zhaan doesn't get into fights quickly at all. She remains calm far longer than most do in tense situations. If things get heated, she still tries to talk it out, negotiate, mediate, come to some kind of compromise. It's only after she has no other choice and either her life or the lives of those she cares about are in danger that she will get violent. Assuming she's a Pa'u. If she's not and she's in touch with her darker side, all bets are off, but I usually write her as a Pa'u when she does have control over her darker impulses.

When it comes down to it, does your muse even believe that there is such a thing as the objective truth? Or is the world just a morass of conflicting beliefs, convenient lies and subjective opinions?

Yes? XD I mean... to some extent, yeah, there's a deeper truth to the experiences of life and love and death that all beings understand or embody on some level. She definitely believes that. There's a greater truth that all living beings abide by whether they realize it or not. Things like... we all enter this world and life alone. Death is an inevitability. Everything and everyone is interconnected. No one is above or outside nature and natural forces. Things like that, she would say are truths that never change and cannot be denied or defied by any living creature. For higher beings, the powers of love and hate are truths that can't be denied either. So there are both natural and existential truths that she would say exist regardless of anyone's opinions of them. They're objective, not subjective.

But then also, yes, the world is an ever-shifting moral compass, a gradient of white, black, and all manners of gray. Belief is subjective. Lies can be merciful, convenient, helpful, or shattering. Opinions come and go and change. All of these things add complexity to life and can be found almost everywhere, but their meanings change based upon the perceptions of those experiencing or attempting to understand them.

#{ i am the caretaker of souls } ᵒᵒᶜ #muse: zotoh zhaan

2 notes · View notes

vxnus-seraph · 5 months ago

Text

STARS ALIGN — weekly selfship appreciation post ! ✦︎ a self ship service featuring a random id registered under us every monday, making them the star of the week! if you wish to be featured, register today!

🏻 the stars of teyvat have aligned to shower light on @pranabefall!

. . . . IDLY PRACTICING CUTTING TECHNIQUES ON WORN OUT RUBBER, anya fails to notice when the xianzhou general steps in the open yard of the healer's market, his own expression displaying discomfort as does the face of most people who come to healers.

his golden orbs scan the place, finding it empty except for the girl who leisurely rested against the divan, her back towards him. against his desire to disturb her, he finds himself softly calling out, afraid to disturb her careful practice.

'excuse me, please, if i may have your attention,' his voice is soft, and his gaze immediately latches on to the rubber sewn with threads, a needle stuck in it, stopped midway.

'yes?' and then her voice comes, appearing peaceful against the wind's howl but carrying annoyance in its wake, regardless. her own sharp eyes fail his resolve, and he finds himself curious about her.

'i have been seeking medical counsel, and yet none from the alchemy commission have entertained me.' his voice seems more exasperated than complaining, tired perhaps of having to deal with such trivial matters on his own.

her eyes pose a question but she immediately straightens and stands up, entertaining him. 'there has been a certain grudge between the alchemists, recently. the healers have all been rather upset, so i believe that might have to do with it.'

'why are you here, then?'

'because the grudges of others do not bother me.'

and that statement, their gazes collide; warm brown against a warmer golden. one would say sparks flew, but it would be better perhaps to say that they finally developed a mutual respect for each other, sensing the other's determination.

'very well,' jing yuan concludes, gaze tearing away to settle on a bottle of medicinal herbs.

'i have had an upset stomach, may i recieve counsel?'

a small discussion about symptoms and other ailments ensues, before herbs and concoctions are placed on the counter and a small list with the prescriptions is handed over; and yet, jing yuan's curiosity lingers.

'may i ask what you were doing with the rubber earlier?' he asks, and from his tone and the sincerity of his eyes, anya senses his genuine curiosity.

'i don't always believe that medicines or healing magic is enough. sometimes the body must be altered, or a limb must go to save the rest of the body. many call it savagery, but i believe in it's efficiency.'

as proof she brings out the swen rubber and presents it to him, gaze cautious of judgement but it never comes. instead, a curious glint appears. 'have you ever laid out a proposal to declare this practise as being officially acceptable?'

'it's called surgery. and no, well, i don't have the influence to bring about such a change. i may if i'm supported by someone influential enough, though,' and her eyes shine with a peculiar glint, reflecting off the rays of the dying sun.

the general smiles, quickly catching on to the implication and nodding, the money put on the table. 'very well. submit an application to me, detailing this practice and why must the xianzhou general find himself involving in this matter.'

and there, they came to terms with the fact that this would be a long journey together.

#. ◟ weekly appreciation posts ◝ ⌗ ◟ yuanya ◝#. ◟ weekly appreciation posts ◝

5 notes · View notes

cheerfullycatholic · 1 year ago

Text

I am free to feel that grief and acknowledge the remorse of my "choice"

Melanie Illinois, United States

I was around twenty and in college. It was a time of darkness, depression and confusion in my life. When I found out I was pregnant, I "heard" my mother's voice of instruction about the proper order of things (college, career, marriage, house, children). I must have felt that the pregnancy would disappoint my parents because I didn't tell them about it until years later. I remember thinking I wished I hadn't been brought into the world so why bring someone else into the world.

I had been through a series of broken relationships. I did not want another relationship but still wanted to have sex. Although I had 2 or 3 partners during this time period, I was "pretty sure" who the father was. I didn't tell anyone about the pregnancy except my older sister and this young man. I remember my sister saying my life was over... it would no longer be my own. I realize now that is because from her perspective she had missed out on career and was raising 4 children and living a bit vicariously through me. I remember the young man seeming relieved when I told him I wanted to get an abortion.

When I indicated I did not want to have the baby, my sister helped me call and set up the appointment at the abortion clinic in campus town. She also advised me to drink a bottle of wine and smoke some weed to deal with cramping that I would have afterwards. She offered this advice from the perspective of having an abortion herself.

I do remember seeing the doctor, maybe a few days or a week before the procedure. He indicated I was very early along. I wanted to schedule the procedure right away because I was afraid, if I waited, that I wouldn't go through with it. I remember the probable father went with me for the procedure but I do not remember him being in the "counseling" session with the nurse prior to the procedure. It was during that session that I remember asking the nurse if the baby would feel anything. She responded, "Oh, honey it's just a blood clot the size of a peanut" and assured me it wouldn't feel anything. I found out, years later, through an exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry that this information was not accurate.

I remember the monetary cost of the abortion was about $300 at this time. I was not aware, until later, of the additional "cost" (psychological, physiological, etc.) of having an abortion. The day of the procedure, the probable father and I went to the office and paid cash in advance. It is still difficult to talk about the procedure, as it was quite traumatic. I remember it seemed to take forever, even though it was probably all done within an hour. I remember crying from the onset... silently at first but building to openly weeping. I remember they couldn't get me to dilate and they were trying to calm me so they offered me some type of intravenous Valium. I remember feeling something deep inside screaming "noooooo" but I tried to stifle it and make myself go through with the process. Whether that cry was God, the baby or my inner self I do not know but I wish I would have listened and I wonder if they would have stopped the procedure if I had made that cry vocal. But I did not. So they got me dilated enough to suction out from my womb the "blood clot the size of a peanut" which would have most likely been my first born child.

After the abortion procedure was complete, I was shuffled to the recovery room. Before long, I was at my apartment, taking my sister's advice about weed and wine. I tried not to allow myself to feel anything and would stuff it anytime it tried to come into my thoughts. I used lots of drugs and alcohol to numb feelings. That led to getting mixed up with a not so great group of people and I ended up dropping out of college anyway. I ended up moving back to my hometown and getting involved in another relationship. I tried marrying that one and when we tried to get pregnant, it never happened. My periods were all messed up. I kept thinking I was pregnant because I would be 2 or 3 months late on my period but tests kept coming back negative. Doctorss tried to say it was just my body getting regulated from going off the pill but after missing period for 6 months with negative pregnancy tests, I was referred to an OB/GYN. They diagnosed PCOS (poly cystic ovarian syndrome). Prior to my abortion, I had never had problems with my period or experienced any of the other symptoms of PCOS that I have since become acquainted with. My husband and I divorced. He made a baby with another woman.

During this time, God re-initiated my childhood faith and I returned to the church. Somehow, I heard about a bible study for woman who have had an abortion being done in a town nearby and I got plugged in with this group of about 5 women, found forgiveness and began healing. The healing process has been a long process considering the abortion was such a short procedure. At 40, I conceived and birthed my first child. At 42, my second child was born. After twenty years of infertility, both children were miracles, without medical intervention for conception. Healing is a process.

I had a miscarriage a few years ago as well. I have noted a real difference in how people respond to miscarriage vs. abortion. It's as if society allows women to grieve the loss of their children through miscarriage but not so with abortion. People offer sympathy to women who have had miscarriages but not so to women who have had abortions. While it is not deemed illegal and thereby deemed acceptable, we are not supposed to talk about it... that is deemed unacceptable and people act real uncomfortable if one acknowledges it. At least that has been my experience and that of other women who have had an abortions that I have talked to. It's crazy. Society will allow you to take the life of your own child but does not allow you to grieve the loss of that child's life. Grief is a natural response to death.

There are always days when I find myself calculating how old that child would be if he or she had lived. I would probably be a grandmother by now. Instead, I am an old mother trying to rear young children. I thank God for His mercy, grace and second chances. But having the children I have now and experiencing motherhood with them makes me wonder, at times, what life and memories were missed as a result of this earlier decision.

Sin has consequences. Taking someone's life is a sin. Forgiveness removes the guilt and shame that are natural consequences of sin. But forgiveness doesn't necessarily remove remorse. Allowing oneself to feel remorse is actually what leads to forgiveness. Remorse for wrongdoing keeps us humble enough to choose right-doing. I believe I have received the forgiveness I requested from God, my child and myself. But one of the consequences I have to live with is that I will always grieve the loss of the experiences of mothering that child.

Because of forgiveness, I am free to feel that grief and acknowledge the remorse of my "choice". This acknowledgement means I no longer have to deny or hide that remorse. It means I no longer have to deny or numb that grief. See it is because of that forgiveness that this remorse is without shame. I can stand forgiven, in Jesus Name! It is because of this forgiveness that I am silent no more!

I want other women who have had abortions to experience this freedom in forgiveness. If you have had an abortion and have not found this freedom, please seek out some help to find it. Help for healing is available! If you are pregnant and considering having an abortion, please choose life. Even when things seem crazy, dark and dangerous in the world, life is ALWAYS the best choice! God is good and ALL life is valuable to Him. If you choose to value what God values, He will be faithful to provide EVERYTHING you need to walk out that choice. Trust God. Trust God to guide you into right choices. Trust God to provide for your needs. Trust God to forgive, heal and restore. Whatever is going on in your life today, trust God over it all. God is good and loves us ALL more than we may ever be able to fully comprehend! Trust in that LOVE!

Find more testimonies at Silent No More

#silent no more #abortion #anti abortion #abortion story #pro life

14 notes · View notes

themarvelhorse · 1 year ago

Text

EftD Chapter 11 – The Devil in Canterlot High Part 2

Part 1 over here!

Sunset sat up straighter. “What the hell??? That’s so cool! That’s what you do in here all day? And you get paid?”

Woah! Sunset seeing the potential for a future career and place in life?! Gonna take psychology as a way to better understand magic but find herself enjoying it even without the sorcery?

“Huh.” A light smile started on her face like the flickering of kindling by a log.

Back to the comfy forest cabin imagery!

Rubbing her neck, Sunset could feel the sweat building back there. The metaphorical logs caught flame and caused a forest fire in her cheeks. She tittered. “We… we really don’t need to get into all that.”

OH NOT SO COMFY. IT WAS A TRAP!

I also like how everything really is so cold in the literal sense, but she feels the warmth in the nonphysical through this sort of language.

“Oh, good question: Empathy! I feel empathy for people when I empathize with them.” She sat back, raised her hands behind her head and the only thing that would have made her more comfortable is if she had a table or stool in front of her to kick her feet up onto. “Got all you need? Fantastic, let’s change my friends back.”

Omg, Sunset plz, you can’t explain a thing using the same word that’s in it. I swear every time I look up a word on the internet its like “Empathizing means to empathize with someone.” And then I have to search empathize and it’s like “To empathize means to feel empathy for someone”. Like, thanks you fuckin giant privacy invader ad bot for being the most sophisticated and simultaneously useless thing imaginable.

Also I like how Solstice is testing the waters. Still trying to get her to open up, but has to start where Sunset is comfortable. He needs to find what’s not the jet fuel that gets thrown into the fireplace and keeps it comfy.

He dropped his animal-eyes to the floor, then back up at her, chin lifted

And so, with the spotlight now back on Solstice’s other side, so are the fauna adjectives. Is this Tartarus cell meant to keep Sunset locked in? Or to keep her safe from a certain beast? Perhaps it’s both. Not wanting to reveal parts of themselves for fear of being locked way, or having that which they themselves locked away, be suddenly freed.

“But you do have a demon form,” she said, voice low and rumbling. “You black out. Do you black out often?” … “Would you?”

Damn, this conversation is intense. Hardly anything is being said out loud, but so much is being said that way. Never answering with the yes or no, because that wouldn’t give him a fair chance to prove himself. But it doesn’t matter. How long can you live with what you’re doing without someone calling you out on it? Even when you think you recognized the problem and took steps to mitigate it… only to find out it wasn’t enough, and you hurt someone because of it…

Clawing motions and goat-like eyes. Truly every sort of manifestation of terrible creature, straight out of both hell and Tartarus.

“Individual counselling works for the individual,” he told her. “I want you to feel comfortable here and if you’d be more comfortable asking me some questions first, I say let’s have at it!” He pumped an arm heartily.

Okay, I HATE how you’re making me like him more and more with this. Because it makes what comes next SO CRUEL.

(It’s a temporary, good kind of hate ;))

“My magic is strongest when it’s based in fear,” he said, thumbing his coffee mug. “I’m a coward. Always afraid of this, that, or the other. And whenever I’m most afraid, he appears. He feeds on it. Perhaps not just my own fear, either. I’m not conscious when he is, so I don’t know the full extent of what he can do; but if he feeds on my fear to manifest, I have to imagine he’ll want more. I think… I think that’s why he attacks people in showy, impractical fashions. Snowstorms are just his way of throwing a fit. He considers himself quite the lead. Climactic battlefronts are his stage. Never give him one.”

As a recovering coward myself, I’d say him seeing fear as cowardice is not the whole truth, whether he knows it or not. Yes, he was likely afraid of his father, but I’m sure he’s also afraid of people hurting, because of him or because of their own issues. Does that make him a coward? I wouldn’t say so. I’d say he simply cares. When you’re worried about someone, and their well-being makes you anxious and afraid for them, what is that? It’s just love. Nothing you can do about that. And the issues with his father, what would that fear be based on? Of not being accepted for being into theatre? Of being unloved? So much so that you don’t want anyone else to feel that way, but can’t help but be afraid that they do.

Sunset laughed, pointing at him. “But, see? You care about people! You believe in them! You even believe in me.”

Nice to know that Sunset sees that he’s genuinely good too.

Even despite his eyes billowing smoke, his warm smile made her feel like they were sitting across from each other around a campfire. “I know precisely how you feel. I bought Bridleway tickets for two for the first time in years. I come to this school, and it’s overflowing with people like me.” He laughed, “It’s almost enough to make me think I’m as good as you say, if I might belong in a place like this.

AH! Back to the woodsy feeling again?

Waiting for that campfire smoke to just block all visibility and choke out all the feelings ;;;;

Here he’s feeling loved at last. Someplace where he feels that maybe he can truly keep Sombra down because of those emotions that aren’t about fear. Until he has to grapple with another issue not considered – the fatigue. And then both Sunset and Solstice go on to say the other one is good and they themselves are the bad one. AN ETERNAL BATTLE OF "no u".

Solstice nodded as he took an off-white, sealed envelope from the side table by his chair. He smiled at it. “You’ve cultivated quite the community.” He placed the envelope aside on his L-shaped desk to deal with later and returned to his seat.

Maybe it’s a letter of recommendation for Sunset to pursue something in the future? Rainbow Dash was recently headhunted by NR, so maybe he thinks she’d do very well there. And its close to home! Or one for Sunset to pursue teacher’s college so she can come right back to Canterlot High and inherit the throne from this Celestia. “See a need, fill a need…”. If she stays it’d only end up making sense to have a school for magic related things. City Hall’s already on board!

“It’s hard to know where the line is, though. It’s not even just my past or my transformation into a she-demon anymore. Magic itself is getting dangerous. People get hurt. I can’t keep running away from that anymore, I have to face it head on because I’m not the only one it’s affecting. All the magic and every disaster it causes in this dimension comes from me.”

Solstice Shiver sat across from her, staring for a moment with his devil-eyes. “My… goodness do you ever sound like me. Er, it should also be noted that magical events did occur before you arrived at Canterlot High. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t create the portal between our worlds. I’ve also heard from other students about some rogue sirens that came to this world before you? And artefacts, like⁠—” He checked his notes. “—A Memorial Stone? Sorry, Memory Stone.” “Okay, maybe not all of it,” she allowed, rubbing her wrist. “But most of it started impacting people’s lives when I came through that mirror in the statue. You’re an exception, not the rule. Uh,” Sunset Shimmer found herself saying, “no offence.”

I... well... I GUESS? Solstice hasn't really had much chance to verify anything until everything started happening at this school. But hey, it was still always there. And now this minority group gets a chance to feel a little less alone, and more validated.

Also, not liking the way this “devil-eyes” adjective was not animal-like but now outright straight from hell.

I wonder if the preceding paragraph had anything to do with it… with mentions of her actually sounding like him, his fears manifested, her thinking of this as facing it head on while he remains cowardly… is this the feeling of fear that Sombra is currently using which prompts the comparison to a devil’s eyes?

…”There’s a strange chaos in what it does to human beings—but I didn’t need anyone here to tell me that.”

A very strange Chaos. What else could facilitate connection between worlds like this than the very Spirit of Chaos? What else would find such a ridiculous joy in a fucked up little statue like that one in front of City Hall? Yes I’m still on that. I know I’ll never know the truth but still!

A pink flooded to the surface of his cheeks. “... O-oh. Oh that makes sense,” Solstice mumbled and cleared his throat. His eyes returned to their standard green, magic evaporating. “Sorry, I... hadn’t heard exactly what the other Celestia was like. Good for her. Royalty,” he said, sounded winded.

More positive emotions dialing back the fear! Hell yeah Solstice! It’s like the peasant running into royalty dressed in common clothes and them simply falling for each other based on who they genuinely are. Good shit.

“Protégé to a princess, goodness. You somehow find ways to be more and more impressive the more I learn about you. What was that like?” he asked, his eyes reigniting. Just as unnerving as last time. She glared at his therapising, so he waved a hand. “Remember: this is purely in the interest of helping your friends. There are methods buried in my madness somewhere.”

Oh hell naw! Fuckin Sombra getting all opportunistic when he hears what potential Sunset has as a target now?

Solstice looked up from taking notes. “So the day you got your cutie mark, that made you who you are?”

“Exactly!” she said, like a teacher proud of their student. “I got mine early, too.” … “What I know is I was little. Maybe I didn’t have anyone there to tell me it was going to be okay. There must’ve been a director or a caretaker during the nights, right? But even if there was, I guess I had to be pretty frightened. One night, I don’t remember why, but that night I panicked. I wasn’t about to go gentle into that good night. My magic must’ve reacted to that, but that night it did it in a big way, and the only way I’ve ever been able to describe what I did was that I kept the sun up with me a little longer.” … …And for context, most ponies could never dream of raising or lowering the sun the way Princess Celestia does every day. That’s alicorn level magic. Regular old unicorns can’t do that.” … Sunset’s hands shook in her lap, itself quaking thanks to her legs, and there was nothing she could do to hide it. “I-I’ve never been able to explain that much power. I used to try to tell myself it was because I was special, but I could never do it again. Maybe I stole magic from Princess Celestia. Maybe I’m that awful. If I did, I didn’t mean to—I mean, it was my fault, I chose to do it, but not like that. I just wanted the sun to stay up longer! I didn’t think I’d almost kill myself! I should’ve known not to, but when the Princess came to visit Her Majesty’s Home for Foundling Fillies, I got the stupid idea in my head that she should stay longer so somehow I just… I made her!”

;~;

She just wanted a mom ;;; Or you know, any adult that could help her feel safe.

Really though, maybe she didn’t move the Sun, maybe she just moved Celestia’s heart enough, calling out to her with a connection that made Celestia stop moving the sun. Which would also be strong magic and shocking to all. Maybe Celestia realized Sunset had this loving connection with her that she hadn’t felt from anyone else before. Because magic is emotion-based, that’d be an extremely powerful magic, especially if, as this chapter goes on to talk about, they were supposed to Face NMM together.

There’s some other elements I want to tie together here: the way dream is italicized for emphasis. It’s done in a way that, yes, expresses that word about just how powerful it was, but it’s also being spoken about in the context of the caretaker there at night being around, but distant. Not doing their job. It feels vaguely connected to Princess Luna, who is currently on involuntary vacation at the Hotel Super Nightlight – ‘see a need, fill a need.’ Since there’s a need for someone to make the nights feel less scary, then who could fill that need? Not only that, but Sunset’s connection to Celestia and the subsequent getting of her cutie mark, happens in a way that emphasizes a need among youth for someone like Celestia to be there for them since Celestia can't. We even later see in the show, that Princess Luna is the one most often showing up for the kids. Celestia just wasn’t able to do that, not as much as she wanted to, and not in the way they deserved. So, when she felt that connection, need, and desire from Sunset for someone to be there for kids, especially those without parents or with shitty parents (like Solstice in this world), Celestia saw Sunset being able to fill that role, that need. That’s how they were intended to rule together.

And that’s why I think this text about Sunset saying ‘“Exactly!” like a teacher proud of their student’, is foreshadowing. Well not just foreshadowing, but it allows us to recognize what gives Sunset energy and passion. This is all from Sunset’s perspective, so how much can we trust as Marvel’s foreshadowing vs. how Sunset’s senses are interpreting things in that situation? How does narration even work when there's so many ways to do it?

We also see it in the way she’s mentoring Twilight to become the next leader of the Rainbooms after her. It’s grounded in this belief that she won’t be around to help them, which is essentially what a teacher and a parent are both supposed to do.

So, there’s this nexus of Sunset being an orphan, connecting to this student counselor with a bad parent, and connecting with Celestia. Celestia is a leader in both worlds, but why a leader of a high school in this one? Because she’s also a teacher. A teacher who knows how to also be the pseudo-parent that some kids and teens need.

Her eyes flashed, alert. She could feel her heart thrashing in her chest, warning her to run and run now. “What? How could any of that possibly be what we have in common?”

Oh gods. It’s the trap set out long ago. A lure set, the truth – the bait.

…he said, walking the length of the rug which meant dissecting the yin-yang design of it in half.

OH GODS! IT’S THE REFERENCE IN THE PIC FROM EARLIER TOO.

The realization hit like a grenade lodged under the couch cushions she sat on. She shot out of her seat, exploding forth.

That’s one way to get your enemy out from behind cover and out into the open, a helpless target.

“Oh my⁠—oh my Celestia! You’re right! Timber and I don’t deal with our feelings!” Somewhere deep in the depths of school, on the whiteboard with the circle of stylized heads meant to represent herself and her friends magical powers, Sunset could almost see the word labelling the line connecting her to Timber Spruce: Repression. Or maybe, better yet: Emotional Escape.

Love and hate it. Love it because it all makes sense! Hate it because, how didn’t I see it sooner?! I guess the same way Sunset didn't see it sooner.

Sunset’s legs felt unsteady underneath her. She grabbed her arms as the cold seeped through her jacket. The thermometer on the wall sunk to inverted heights. “I… I-I don’t know, I⁠—”

The prey, frozen in fear.

Her breath swirled visible in front of her.

The art! When they were sitting across from each other! The swap is continuing!

Solstice Shiver froze.

She grabbed the opening of her jacket, pulling it together. “They shouldn’t have to go through that. No one should have to—they deserve so much better. They all deserve better.”

The jailer now jailed, and the hunter to become the hunted. Both immobilized by the very same cold they defied at the start of the chapter.

She muffled herself. Eyes raised toward the stars that couldn’t aid in her escape. She blinked, eyes stinging and her skin with it in the cold. She roughly wiped her eyes before grabbing her arms and letting her eyes drop to the floor. “I’ll change everything back to normal and destroy the portal. And then I’m never coming back. I’m sorry if this is goodbye. It was nice knowing you, while it lasted.”

Sobs

The clock froze solid on the wall.

And the day time stood still.

“... Who do you think you’re talking to right now?”

Time stopped pretty much for me too when I read that.

“How do you know?” he asked. “How would anyone know? I’m everything you fear you are. Is there any difference between us? There’s hardly an us about it, it’s all me. It’s always been me.” He gripped the sides of the armchair. “You need to run. I don’t think he likes your plan to take all the magic with you.”

Oh no….

Mug in hand, she came over to him and offered a mug of piping hot coffee. He took it in his hands, and drank as if from the River Styx or the River Lethe. While he did, Sunset staggered back, taking a seat on the purple couch.

And after such a break from the feeling of being in Tartarus, it’s back again. The Greek mythology references are very real for Sunset, but Hell is something less so. Maybe it's something more human. She can fight every one of those 'mythical' monsters, but there's much more fear in what you aren't sure about. The unknown. The darkness, that darkness that Sunset feared as a filly. What lurked there? What lurks now? You know devils and demons exist, you were one. What does that mean about Hell, and everything else you don't know about in the human world? Along with human economics and geography...

Also, I didn’t know this! “The River Lethe - the souls of the dead had to drink from it, which made them forget all they had done and suffered when they were alive.” Or like the River Styx, to renew his oath to protect the students.

Pretty fitting!

So maybe the Greek references are something more within Sunset's control, but Hell isn't.

And of course, its at this moment that Solstice’s fears are realized and his own heart breaks. After connecting so well to someone and genuinely feeling like he helped them only to hear this? This realization that it wasn’t enough? He couldn’t stop her from leaving or save her from herself? He was so confident that it was working, all that progress, even making her happy by figuring it all out. He was confident he'd never put the students in harm’s way because he had faith in them, students like Sunset, to be able to get better. But how do you deal with someone who is just so determined to continue believing this one damaging thing, despite the progress? Despite the evidence to the contrary of what they thought about themselves? He of all people would have been best suited to stop that, and in the end it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter in the end, but it still mattered that the love was there.

A panting started and Sunset didn’t realize it was her own. Tears streaked. Her vision dappled with darkness and sparks. Maybe she was dying already. Maybe she’d never make it to the mirror at all. Maybe she’d die here. No destiny, no reason she wouldn’t. An empty future. No guarantee. Sunset Shimmer knew she would die purposelessly at Canterlot High. I’m dying... I’m dying…

This part just kinda fucks me up too. She feels like death is here for her. She feels like all the magical catastrophes happen because she exists. And now she feels like she’s about to stop existing and for no reason, to no one’s benefit. And then she goes back to thinking about the portal, the one final purpose she does have, the one final thing she wants to live for before she would have to stop existing in her friends’ lives. She was so worried about becoming the villain again, that she forgot the other thing that happens to heroes.

“Hushhhh,” he told her. “You’re in no condition. You’ve failed. But it’s alright. I’m always here to listen and I’ve heard everything I need to know.” She could hear the smile rise in his voice. “I’ll make certain everyone sees who you really are.”

Gonna choke on the sulfur I taste on my lips / Seeing stars in the dark here beneath an eclipse / Hard to wait for an answer when my belief slips / There’s something else here LISTENING~

She heard her own voice cackle in delight. “Well, well. Theory proven. The doctor was right.” He laughed maniacally at his own joke. “Fear does attract fear. A shame it’s consuming you, otherwise, I might invite you to join.”

My mind is scouring secrets / Not any soul will tell / Sometimes to face the demons / You have to walk through hell~

Bringing it full circle, there’s been a lot of stories about people going to hell for their loved ones. Of course Orpheus, but also Dante. And now Sunset. Facing down the different versions of the lord of this place, be it Hades or Hell. The place where you go to face your demons, where demons reside. Where you find the King of demons. And then suddenly, it’s a Pandora's box you unleash. One where hope is also released into the world, along with all the horrors. In this case, it’s the hope that Sunset can finally change everyone back. But the horrors!

Sunset’s a lot like Luna, we saw that comparison in the comics. And that might have been another reason why Celestia took in her in. Leaving Sunset there in the orphanage to feel abandoned again? John Milton told us why that’s been a bad thing in Paradise Lost. Orpheus letting Eurydice feel abandoned in Hades. And Sunset was about to let her friends feel abandoned in the human realm. She wasn’t saved from becoming the villain though. And of course, its not like a certain fallen angel isn’t depicted as the same way either, jealous of the new kid who comes along.

And of course- course, it would help if any of those who did feel abandoned had someone else to fall back on, i.e. “another teacher who shared similar feelings of abandonment but was also turned good”.

All that to say, it feels like everything in this chapter fits so well together. And just to finish it off…

“Where Sunset Shimmer belongs, of course. Ruining everything for those she loves most, causing fear and mass panic wherever she goes.” King Sombra popped the collar of his leather jacket. “It seems I have a coronation to attend.”

Shadows swallowed her vision as a demonic Sunset Shimmer left into the halls of Canterlot High.

I can't climb jacob's ladder / Keep on landing on the ground / But hell has an elevator / So just send my body down Down, down, down

...Down the halls of Canterlot High.

Also some end notes!

I like all the little instances of irritation that Solstice encounters in this chapter – at least explicitly. I don’t think any of the others would have added onto this anger that ultimately allows Sombra to take over.

Sunset refuses to zip up her jacket.

Sunset prefers tea, which is not what most students preferred. This allows Solstice to feel comfortable venting about how coffee is getting ruined because he knows he wouldn’t bother Sunset with that.

Sunset’s comment about how therapy is for dumb babies.

Still, these aren’t problems for Solstice because he’s not some controlling snob. It’s because he’s afraid for the students’ well-being. And again, when he finds out its not enough to stop Sunset from blaming herself, it breaks him.

Upon review of all the Greek myth connections, I decided to do a little digging.

So first we have the idea that the psyche is separated from the corpse and transported to the Underworld. Literally have the separation of mind from body in this particular Chapter. And to not just anyone, but to someone who wants to escape Hades itself. Its own prison. It’s a place of darkness and lacks sunlight. This office is also where Twilight, Timber, and Flash all went before she did, and where Celestia, even if its not Sunset’s Celestia, went into first. So we have Orpheus style Sunset going in to get her loved ones back by making a deal and only sticking to that deal. Except that, when her attitude towards Solstice changes by the end, Sunset does a figurative 180, and Orpheus does the literal 180. And they both also end up paying for it. I also see a sort of Persephone/Celestia thing going on, where Solstice’s emotions are tied to the weather changes, and the winter is alleviated by Celestia’s presence.

This whole chapter also lets us see how Sunset shares so many traits with Solstice. She’s the perfect vessel for Sombra to have controlled.

And of course, it all very much vibes with Sympathy for the Devil. How he was always there, being a man of wealth and taste – coffee and wine; the puzzle of understanding Sombra – fear, but what are we afraid of, if not what we don’t understand? The yin-yang-ness of it all –

Just as every cop is a criminal / And all the sinners saints / As heads is tails

And of course, Solstice trying to keep control of Sombra, the restraint, the prison.

Just call me, Lucifer / 'Cause I'm in need of some restraint

Sunset walked into Hell to face its master, and all the things she fears along with it for her friends… and in so doing she left the door wide open for him to leave.

#Empathy for the Devil #EftD #EftD Chapter 11 Commentary #EftD Chapter 11 Commentary Part 2 #my stuff #marvelandponder #bevinbrand #commentary

4 notes · View notes