#but i assure you i only complain because i love said characters/ship and think they deserve so much better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thejustmaiden · 3 years ago

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So out of nowhere I was tagged and quoted by a SR shipper for a blog of mine posted in August of last year. Talk about throwback but, hey, gotta appreciate that level of snooping. 😉

Back in the day I actually used to encourage discourse amongst Inuyasha fans- both shippers and antis alike- but I've since realized that it's a lost cause. But for you, @feministmetalgreymon , I'll grant this exception. Just 'cause it's been a while so why the hell not. haha

I want to assure you, however, that nothing you say will ever convince me that Sesshomaru and Rin are meant to be together romantically or that the story intended it so. Nor will you find any validation here. You can ship them for all I care, but please for all that is good and holy while I have your attention try- I mean really try- to understand why it is so many of us Inuyasha fans are so against this pairing in the first place (newsflash: it's not about ship wars), and why we believe a romance between the two of them is completely and utterly out of character.

For those of you interested in reading this, the blog of mine in question that the above shipper mentions in their counter-argument is here for reference. It's titled "Jaken = Rin's Dad?" I'm going to try and keep this short, but I'm also making no such promises. After all, I'm not exactly known for my brevity. haha Now let's get crackin'!

Like you, feministmetalgreymon, did for your recent blog here where you took screenshots of mine to address certain parts, I will be doing the same and dissecting yours accordingly.

[Snippet 1]

I worked with kids for many years as a teacher, and many people in my family have too or still do. Two of them happen to be just over 5 feet which is quite short for the average adult woman living here. I've also worked alongside many a women of short stature, and never did I hear any of them complaining of issues with their students having difficulty differentiating them from their own peers just because they were short as well. I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. Kids are quite smart and pick up on a lot more than you seem to give them credit for. Height is not the only characteristic they look at to determine who's an adult and who's not, and it's foolish to suggest otherwise. So unless you're a babysitter who's still in their teens and/or who has very childlike features or behavior then I'm afraid what you're getting at is total hogwash. This is just another example of how you shippers offer nothing of real substance to your reasoning, it's only ever cherry-picking or strawmanning from you guys. Stop deflecting from the real issues please, because this certainly isn't one and only winds up being a complete waste of time for all parties involved.

[Snippet 2]

Okay, calm down now. I wasn't insinuating that relationships between parents and children can't change over time in terms of how they get along. Of course that's possible, as all families experience their fair share of estrangement and abuse. What I was speaking about was in reference to the overall dynamic between the two. Because a bad mother or father can still be viewed as a parental figure to their child even if say they're not in said child's life anymore. Since Sesshomaru and Rin share a healthy bond- and just a friendly reminder that in my blog I even said that he doesn't have to necessarily be labeled her father but that a romantic relationship later would still be inappropriate- I didn't deem it necessary to address what you brought up. Plus, it kinda, umm, misses the point?? Please, let's stay on topic. And it's not captured in the screenshot, but stop acting like there isn't a small part of them that idolizes their parents at some point during childhood. Just like you mention later on how it's normal for kids to have innocent crushes on adults that they eventually grow out of? Well, guess what, the same concept applies here. Kids eventually learn that their parents are far from perfect and make mistakes too. Rin is so damn young in the OG series though that we never even get to see her reach that maturity level.

[Snippet 3]

LOL! Alright, okay, so the "unbreakable bond" bit you're mentioning was actually me quoting you sessrinners. Did you not catch that? I literally spelled it out. *sigh* The whole point I was making is that shippers like yourself make hypocritical and contradictory statements all.the.goddamn.time. One moment you guys claim that Sesshomaru and Rin were essentially strangers and meant very little to each other, only to say in the same breath a few seconds later that they were destined to be together and their bond is like no other. I agree, their bond is special, but why must that mean they're going to fall in love?

That is the root of the matter here. Too many animes/mangas have romanticized this older adult man & young girl growing up falling in love trope that it's become way too normalized and widely accepted across the world- and yes, in some cultures more than others. Sadly, you lack the awareness to recognize how this all works. You know how we know that? When we see that you shippers are so desensitized to sexualized images of girls in the media that you share posts like this one below which *subtly* imply a future romance although one half of that pairing is still just a child in the pic and then try and pass it off as cute. That's like super fucking problematic and it scares me that you can't see that (or deny you do). 🤢

After all that's said and done, Sesshomaru leaving Rin in the village with Kaede is to me the strongest indicator more than pretty much anything else he's done for Rin that proves he is her adoptive father. It's so funny to me how you somehow see the exact opposite though. 🤔 What I think is happening is that you got yourself on some squeaky clean ass shipper goggles fresh out of your little echo chamber. Because I hate to tell you, but what you're fantasizing is what you want to see and not what's actually there on screen or was written into the story. I'm strictly talking about Inuyasha and the manga of course. [For the TL; DR version skip to the last paragraph.]

Parents looking after their kids is what parents are supposed to do. A good parent will do anything to keep their child safe and ensure they are cared for, so what he did for her by leaving her there was in her best interests clearly. Besides, as a babysitter, you more than most people should understand that parents aren't always able to be there for their kids so sometimes others gotta step in to help. Haven't you heard of the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child?" Which in Rin's case is literally true! 😂 Sometimes kids are even sent off to stay with grandparents and that's who raises them instead. Or maybe they have to temporarily live with an aunt or uncle because their single parent's job requires they work out of town 4-5 days of the week so they're hardly home. But that doesn't mean that the parents care or love their kids any less, and it's foolish to assume that Sesshomaru must have thought very little of Rin simply due to the fact that he made the decision to leave her in the village. Come on, y'all are acting like he abandoned her there!!

It's just given the circumstances Sesshomaru finally came to learn that Rin traveling with him was no longer safe. I also like to think it's because he wished for her to live a more normal life and to learn how to fully trust humans again. Plus, continuing to travel with him as young as she was would have proven dangerous and unwise. Now for you to know all this and still manage to turn his past actions towards her while she was just a child into a romantic gesture is what boggles my mind. Regardless of how you look at it, from my perspective or your own, Sesshomaru is in the wrong. Either he's a father figure who impregnates his daughter at the young age of approximately 14. OR he's this man she used to travel with who maybe isn't a father to her but who nonetheless basically rapes her since kids her age can't consent to sex with an adult. Idk about you but it sounds to me like nobody here wins with either scenario we're given. In other words, you should be just as mad as we are. If only one side didn't choose to forsake their morals they know we both have in common for the sake of a ship. Welp. 🤷‍♀️

I agree, incest is disgusting but that's not the only problem we have with this pairing. A romantic bond forming between Sesshomaru and Rin would also constitute as grooming.

You realize that over the years he visited her in the village that he brought her gifts too and essentially watched her grow up right before his very eyes, right? I mean, I know you do, but I really shouldn't have to explain further why pursuing a romantic/sexual relationship with each other is plain and simple wrong. And before you say it's not because he didn't have any malintent, please understand that considering their history and power dynamic up to then that yes this is still considered grooming even if Rin supposedly "wanted it" or "made the first move." Whether you consider him her father or not, as the adult who took on a role resembling that of a caretaker in her early life- a critical developmental time for a child- Sesshomaru is obligated to turn down any advances by Rin and most definitely should not initiate any himself. As the first close adult figure she's had in her life since her parents died, it's unfathomable to imagine how Sesshomaru could go through with taking advantage of this young girl who was under his care and supervision since they met. To think he could be capable of betraying that trust sickens me to the core.

This. Now THIS is how a parent/guardian or a similar adult caretaker (babysitter, teacher, etc.) talks to a child. And, in turn, this is how some young children talk to adults. You'd be insane and delusional to deny it! We see it in our everyday lives, do we not? From where else do you think our stories draw most of their inspiration? Yes, obviously these fictional universes have aspects of fantasy that don't exist in the real world, but so how then do you suppose we're able to relate to them? The reason for that being is because these stories are written by people for people, so naturally there are going to be real life aspects embedded throughout. Sure, a little escapism doesn't hurt as we don't need to take everything so seriously, but ultimately we all need to recognize that the messages in the stories we tell matter. Most stories possess a combination of both light and dark themes, but when it specifically comes to the latter we gotta be careful with how we tackle this in children's media since kids are far more impressionable.

So if at the center of a story we have two of the main protagonists whose mom is basically their same age and to top it off she knew their dad when she was just a girl and who just so happened to help raise her, wouldn't you say that's beyond fucked up or at the very least so fucking weird? Like why would we think it's even remotely okay for our children to watch this garbage?? Really think about it. Try and be objective for once and think about how it would sound explaining this storyline to an outsider who's never watched IY or HNY. Well, antis have tried this before many times and we always get the same reaction: Ewww!

Like I said earlier, if you wanna ship it then fine, but 1) please stop seeking our approval or trying to change our minds - your ship wish came true didn't it, so why do you need us to validate it? 2) even though it's not canon, respect that we don't support this sequel portraying pedophilia in a positive light. It's harmful af to not only allow but glorify the continuation of sexualized images of young girls everywhere. And I shouldn't have to say this, but just because this trope is popular as you say does not make it right. Lolicon themes in the media have been an issue forever and it needs to stop. Yes, even some people in Japan or "the East" would agree. Shocker!

We're pissed off and rightfully so because Yashahime's TV rating is 14, not to mention it airs at the prime time kids in Japan watch TV after getting home from school. That's Towa and Setsuna's age, true, but if Rin being the mom when she's like only a year older than them (please don't argue w/ me about the math- antis have so far been right every time with it) is straight-up disgusting and not something we should be supporting or endorsing. Rin's a whole ass child!! Please don't start with the "but times were different then so her having kids at 15 is acceptable" argument either, because we've already debunked that and every other single excuse you guys throw at us. Besides, how or why would you expect young viewers to know these historical "facts" anyway, especially if as you suggest fiction doesn't affect reality so what does it matter? Yet here we are, arguing over a fictional show in real life almost a year and a half into the "Sesshomaru fucks?" sequel being announced. My ass, your ass, hell all our asses fiction doesn't affect reality!

Look, I do apologize if the tone of this blog came off as snippy or condescending at times. I do not wish you any ill will, it's just I'm not really sure what you expected to get out of all this besides maybe getting on my nerves perhaps. haha A lot of you shippers have been desperately scrambling to interact with us, lurking in our tags, jumping onto our posts screaming canon and getting so defensive even though you sought us out first. We've been sticking to our tags, so how about you stay in your lane too. By the way since we're on the topic, have you seen Twitter or Reddit?! SR shippers there are the actual worst and many Inuyasha fans (not just antis) have complained of not feeling welcomed to engage in fandom spaces anymore. Shippers swarm them and scare them off simply because fans don't like your ship and refuse to accept it. It's pathetic, really. No one should ever be bullied or harassed just because they don't like something you might. We're all fans of Inuyasha, aren't we? So let's act like it. Yashahime on the other hand, you guys are welcome to that pungent heap of trash. Fans have a right to criticize it too, but if you like it then good for you, so keep on liking it and don't mind us.

I'm almost done, but real quick back to Jaken! Let's not forget about how the official Yashahime website- which came out after my blog, mind you- described Jaken. This translation isn't the best one available but it's the only version a fellow anti friend could track down. They do recall a better one done by a native Japanese speaker who was also an anti, and that member confirmed that Jaken is indeed called Rin's babysitter. So you see, I was right in my interpretation. In the original post I did compare Jaken to a brother, but after talking to others (some comments can be found under said post) I did acknowledge that he's more of a reluctant babysitter who's not related. And if he's not at least a brother to Rin, then he's definitely not her father.

At the end of the day, the creator Rumiko Takahashi has the final word. Which is guess what? Hogosha. 💖 Probably should've just started out with that and saved us all the trouble, huh? Good day/night to you.

Papamaru bids you adieu now. 🤞

#anti yashahime #anti sessrin #sesshomaru is rin's dad #papamaru #hogosha 💖#the sequel may not be canon but sunrise can still burn in hell

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vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

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Ocean Melody

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Sora, Kairi

Additional Tags: Soulmate AU

Hey, everyone! Here’s today’s SoKai story for @sokaiweek, this time based on the AU prompt— and since soulmate AUs are my favorite, of course, that’s what I decided to do! <3

A song— Kairi had heard it in her soul ever since she was old enough to recognize it as song. Everyone was born with a song in their hearts, and that song linked them to their soulmate; every pair was unique, possessing their own melody that linked them in love and eternity. Every morning, Kairi would stand upon the beach below her house with her feet in the surf, humming the tune of her melody in the hopes that the wind would carry it across the ocean to the person she was meant to love— and every day, that melody went unanswered. So she waited, all alone in her house near the sea, for the day her solo would finally become a duet.

Many days, she found herself staring out her window down at the beach like this. She wasn’t sure why, but the sea called to her like another melody, the gentle ebb and flow of the waves a song that tried to entice her to its endless blue. A cup of tea long since cold rested in her hand as she gazed unblinkingly through the glass, watching the sand dunes ruffle in the salty breeze and the sea foam spray with each crash of the waves.

“Kairi?”

Kairi jumped as Selphie suddenly spoke. The cup rattled against the saucer in her hand, spilling cold tea all over the counter, her hands, and her front. Kairi cursed under her breath and hurriedly set the dishes in the sink, then grabbed a dish towel to mop up the brown liquid. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she could do about the brown spots dotting the front of her pink-and-white sundress. She would just have to attempt to wash them out later.

“Sorry,” she apologized, dabbing at the wet spots on her front while she turned to her friend, who was sitting at her kitchen table with an amused look. “I got lost in thought… What were you saying?”

“I was talking about Tidus!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “How lucky can he get? I mean, how many people’s soulmates are pop stars? He heard his soulmate song on the radio, and whadaya know, his soulmate is that up-and-coming popstar, Yuna. I would kill for it to be that easy for me!” Selphie complained, pushing her fist into her cheek once she finished venting. Kairi chuckled, walking over to join her friend in the wooden chair. She picked up one of the petit fours sitting in the middle of the table and brought it to her mouth to take a small bite of the rich, sweet cake before answering.

“I’m sure you’ll find your soulmate soon, Selphie. It happens every day.”

“Yeah, well, I wish it would happen to-day,” her friend sniffed disdainfully, and Kairi chuckled again. She certainly shared Selphie’s sentiments, but it was amusing how enthusiastically her friend was willing to complain about it. She continued to munch on the petit fours while her friend lamented her loveless woes, but all the while, her heart yearned to gaze upon the ocean. She knew not why it called her so; sometimes, she wondered if the ocean was her soulmate, with how much she stared at it.

Of course, that would be silly. Nonetheless, she was drawn to it, day after day after day.

It was the next morning when Kairi found out why.

She just stood there gaping, still holding the long hem of her sundress bunched up in one hand in preparation to step into the swirling surf. The wind ruffled her hair, the fabric of her dress, her short auburn hair— and the few spikes of dry brown hair of the man who lay face-up on the beach, half-in and half-out of the water with seaweed still clinging to the drenched fabric of his sailor’s uniform. It took Kairi a few precious seconds to realize that it was in fact a person lying there, and when she did, she scrambled across the sand with a startled gasp. She fell on her knees beside him, hands fluttering over his chest, and she was relieved to find both a steady heartbeat and a pattern of breathing.

“Oh, I am so glad you’re not drowned,” Kairi sighed with a smile, though he was totally unconscious and couldn’t hear her. She reached up to place her hand on his clammy cheek, and though it was pale and cold and wet with seawater, she still fancied the softness of his skin. He just continued to sleep on, serene aside from the way his hair and clothes clung to his body. “Where did you come from?” she murmured.

And why did the sea bring you to me?

Kairi managed to haul him up to her house, though she dragged in half the beach with her. She brushed as much of the sand from his back as she could before she lowered him onto the couch, then tore across the house gathering every blanket she could. Once she had cocooned him up nice and warm, she called the nearby doctor. While she waited, she swept all the sand back out of the house, though she was certain she would find grains of it for years to come. That was okay; each one would be a strange little reminder of the strange man on the beach, the strange call of destiny.

The doctor assured him that he only had a mild fever, and with proper care, it should break by the morning. Kairi dutifully remained by his side through the highs and lows, whispering to him through his shaking and sweating fits and dozing in the sparse hours he slept peacefully. By the time the dawn broke, her eyes were droopy and laced with exhaustion and her hair a bit frazzled, but he’d been fever-free for four hours.

Just a quick nap, she told herself while her eyes drifted shut. She descended into the gray-black haze of sleep. In the void, she heard the tune of her soulmate song, the gentle chiming of piano keys that always lulled her into a sense of peace.

“Where… Where am I?”

She jolted awake to see him staring tiredly up at the ceiling, blue eyes hazy with post-fever confusion. The sun was spilling brightly into the room now; her quick nap had actually been a few hours. She hurriedly leaned forward to pat the blankets over his chest, pulling his muddled gaze to her. She couldn’t help but blush at the way his eyes brightened just a little.

“You’re all right. You’re on Destiny Islands. You washed up on the beach and have been very sick for the past day,” she explained, laying the back of her hand on his forehead to check his temperature. He blinked blearily at her, taking a few minutes to process what she’d just told him.

“You… You saved me?” he rasped. Kairi nodded, then got up to grab a cold glass of water for him from the kitchen. She coaxed him to drink, and he greedily sucked down a total of three glasses before he finally collapsed back against the throw pillow with a sigh. “Thank you… My name is Sora.”

“I’m Kairi. Do you need anything, Sora? Would you like more water, or…?” Her voice faltered as he smiled sweetly at her, and her heart thumped against her ribcage.

“No… If you’d sit and talk with me a while, that would be good enough.”

So they sat and talked for a while. Sora told her that he was a sailor traveling the world to explore different sights and cultures with his friends. They had run afoul of a thunderstorm, and in trying to save the ship from floundering, he’d been thrown overboard. He managed to cling to a barrel, but he’d lost consciousness within the shallows— thankfully, the sea had been merciful and brought him ashore.

As his strength returned, he told her so many things about what he’d seen in his travels— snowy mountain peaks that pierced the sky, deserts that stretched to the horizon, jungles with a thousand creatures and torrential rains— and the people. He loved talking about all the amazing people he’d come across. He spoke of a shaman who’d performed ritual dances, of a princess who hunted with hawks, of a circus performer who did death-defying stunts with fire, of a world-renowned artist who painted the most gorgeous landscapes. Kairi hung onto his every word, drinking in all the things he’d experienced like it could make up for the fact that all she’d ever been was this sleepy house on the sea.

“Your life sounds so amazing, Sora,” she sighed, relaxing into the coffee table once he’d finished telling his latest story. He was sitting up now, the blankets loosely wrapped around him and a warm mug of tea in his hands.

“Yeah, I’d consider myself pretty lucky,” he nodded and then sipped at his tea. “But to be honest, I think it’s just to make up for the one thing I’m missing.”

“Missing?” she echoed, and he gave her a sheepish look.

“My soulmate, you know? I’m sure you’ve felt it too… Like there’s a void in your soul that you can never fill.” Oh, Kairi had felt it. She felt it every day when she sang to the sea, begging the winds to carry her melody across the oceans to her special someone. She nodded sagely, but she didn’t realize she’d started crying until the tears dripped down onto her face. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Sora chuckled apologetically and reached out to gently thumb them away. She found herself leaning a little into the caresses, savoring the calloused pad of his finger.

“It’s all right…” she murmured once he sat back. “I guess it’s just because I don’t have something to fill the void.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… I just sit here waiting. It’s kind of depressing, now that I realize it,” she said with an embarrassed look. How pathetic could she be? Just waiting day after day instead of doing something amazing like Sora.

Frowning, Sora set the mug down and took her hands. He rubbed gentle circles over her palms as he looked into her eyes.

“I don’t think it’s depressing at all. Everybody deals with it differently. I think that makes you a really strong person, to have faith day after day that your soulmate will come to you.” He said it with such a serious and passionate look that it was so easy to believe him, or maybe it was just that Kairi didn’t want to face the reality that it was just a sad way to live. She leaned in, too distraught to consider how close their faces were, to whimper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smiled sweetly, and he discarded one of her hands to reach up and pet her cheek. Her heart thumped in her chest again. Oh, this wasn’t good. This was getting dangerous, having feelings for a man she just met and who probably wasn’t her soulmate— but why did it feel so right?

“In fact…” he said, his smile suddenly taking on a hint of cheekiness, “I think that day will come sooner than you think.” Kairi’s eyes widened, having the strange feeling that his words were more than just reassurance. She blushed as he leaned a little closer, close enough for their noses to brush. “You sing in your sleep, you know,” he revealed, and Kairi’s nerves sang as his breath ghosted over her face.

And then he started humming, and Kairi felt like the world stopped around her, because that was her song, the song she’d sung to the waves every day of her life, and Sora was caressing her cheek, and it was her song.

She started crying again, and Sora laughed quietly, tilting his head to nose at the junction of her jaw and face. She couldn’t help but laugh, too, laugh at the silliness of crying with joy but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m a pretty bad soulmate,” he joked, “because all I seem to be able to do is make you cry.”

“Yeah,” she giggled while she tried to wipe her tears away but more dripped down from her eyes to replace them. “What’s up with that?”

“Sorry,” he laughed and leaned in to press his forehead against hers. Surely it was the sea that brought him, she thought, as she gazed into the oceanic blues of his eyes. That was why the sea had called her so. And he tasted like the sea, too, when he leaned in to kiss her, like salt and ocean breeze and endless possibilities. He held her like the most precious treasure as he kissed her once, twice, three times, and then he pulled away to smile, and then he was kissing her again because he couldn’t get enough. Kairi couldn’t get enough of him either, savoring the feeling of his slightly chapped lips moving over her own. It was perfect, everything she’d dreamed of, and for the first time in her life she finally felt whole.

After that, she and Sora went down to the sea together, hand-in-hand. Kairi didn’t sing to the waves that day. She didn’t have to now; her heart sung to Sora’s, and Sora’s to hers, and it was a harmony that only they could hear and know.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#sokai #sokaiweek #sokaiweek2021 #sora x kairi #kairi x sora #kingdom hearts

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cameoamalthea · 4 years ago

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So About the Traveler: Critical Role C2E103

“How can I be cruel? That is for mortals.” But then she did raise her eyes, and they were great with sorrow, and with something very near to mockery. She said, “So is kindness.” - Peter S Beagle “The Last Unicorn”.

In lore and media, including Dungeons and Dragons, immortal beings whether called “immortals” or “fey” are not bound by the same sense of morality as mortals. Indeed, some interpretations posit they lack the same capacity to feel the same emotions as mortals do. These beings are by their very nature different and alien.

The Archfey is an immortal. They are ancient and yet, ever young. A contradiction. They cannot lie and are bound by any promise they make, but are very good at wording things carefully or withholding what they’d rather not say. They are not to be trusted. They are not safe. They can be good, and Artagan falls squarely on the good side for a fey.

The key words being “for a fey”.

Fey generally lack empathy, which makes sense for the short lives of mortals are nothing compared to their eternal existence. They can be killed, but they do not simply end and pass away the way mortal things do. So there is a question as to how much a fey can value mortal lives at all.

Still, Artagan makes it clear he does not want to hurt his followers. He rejects killing them when Jester brings it up. He sees leaving them to join the Island cult where they will be happy as a viable solution for the ones he dislikes. Which is actually fairly merciful considering fey do not value mortals in general and can easily destroy the lives of any who offend them. That does not make it ok by normal ethical standards, but it is important to realize that it is his nature not to have normal ethical standards.

Artagan seems to be primarily motivated by doing whatever amuses him. Trick a bunch elves into worshiping a dead whale because it’s funny? Sure. Respond to someone claiming they can’t die by requesting to kill them just to see what happens and see what it’s like, just for the heck of it. It is likely he has never cared about anything other than his own self-interest and personal enjoyment. He has certainly never cared for a mortal.

Yet, he cares for Jester but cannot understand what she cares about.

He sees she is crying and does not like that, but doesn’t understand why she’s scared.

He does not understand why asking her to lead a lot of people to a place that is home to a dangerous monster that will erase their memories and turn them into willing slaves would upset her.

He understands when she expresses fear for herself; because he understands that. And he is quick to assure her that he wasn’t going to give her to the monster. And again, fey cannot lie. Artagan does value Jester but does not value mortals in general.

For Jester the question is ‘how do I know you wouldn’t do that to me’

Whereas to Artagan it’s as obvious as how can someone keep animals as pets and still eat meat.

One is cute

One is food

It’s not a question that you could truly love your pet chicken and also love some BBQ wings. The same animal, but one is valued.

Jester is valued, and there is a question as to whether a fey can value a mortal as more than a human might value a pet or what if any capacity fey have to love anyone. That said, he is genuine in his affection for her. He did not intend to hurt her (he still did - he absolutely did) and honestly did not mean to put her through any heartache.

Some would describe this behavior as “creepy” or even as “gaslighting”. (And if this narrative is triggering because the character’s actions remind you of an abuser that is 100% valid. This essay is exploring only the actions of this character in the context of analyzing the fictional portrayal of an imaginary magical being).

While creepy is subjective I do not believe he is malicious so much as heartless (another quality of fey). He does not understand caring about other people so he honestly could not foresee that the fact he would do this would feel like a betrayal to Jester. He does not have the empathy to understand why he has hurt her and instead tries to explain his perspective honestly and assure her that she is safe (which she is safe with him, at least insofar as he will not intentionally hurt her - the problem is this dumbass doesn’t understand how he’s hurting her).

So while I understand the impulse to say “He made Jester cry KILL HIM”.

He is not lying when he never intended to leave her on the island or when he assured her that she is his favorite person. He also freely makes a promise to her, which is binding and not something a fey would give lightly.

So now- Now he cannot ever leave her. He will keep her safe and her friends safe. That’s a big deal. And there’s nothing in it for him aside from her happiness. He paints the moon itself to make her smile.

He is a powerful, alien, chaotic neutral fey and he adores Jester.

The question is then will Jester love him after this. Will she be able to have a close relationship with him now that she understands his lack of empathy. Even when he is sorry all he can say is he’s sorry she feels hurt (because he doesn’t want her hurt) but he cannot truly apologize and take responsibility for hurting her. (I’m sorry you feel hurt vs I’m sorry I hurt you).

He can’t take responsibility for anything. He is carefree and free from the ability to care. Mortals care, mortals can love and regret. They can understand hurting someone else and take responsibility for that rather than focusing on the consequences that relate to their own feelings (I don’t like that you feel hurt because I care, so I am sorry for that).

Note: In real life, in humans, we call this behavior toxic. To focus on yourself and not emphasize with others and your impact on them is harmful.

And Jester grew up with Artagan. He is not a “child groomer” as some have accused. He was a child with her. However, once she became an adult he dropped the polymorph and became a fey again. Jester grew up. Artagan can’t grow up, because he’s a fey. He is still and will forever be as selfish and unthinking as a child.

Jester isn’t anymore and she may outgrow Artagan unless his affection for her can make him grow as a person. However, Jester is not at the point where she is able to call him out or push him to change. She is understanding ‘I know you wanted to get rid of followers’ she doesn’t want to judge. When he complains about the headache of dealing with ships she joked about some of them dying.

However, the Traveler does not join on that joke. He doesn’t want them to die. He has learned to enjoy doing good and to care somewhat for people in general - which is notable given that he is a fey and caring isn’t in his nature.

Jester has made him a better person. He did grow up with her for a time. He was mortal with her then and grew and, I think, learned to feel love for her. To be her best friend.

But he has a long way to go to be a good friend; if he can even get there. Either way, it will be an interesting story to watch play out. An interesting dynamic. An interesting take on a fey that Matt has done a wonderful job writing as truly inhuman.

Footnote:

1) For further reading on the nature of fey/magical creatures, please see this post on “The Last Unicorn”

2) Why are these chickens so cute you guys???

#Artagan #jester lavorre #critical role #Critical role spoilers #essays #fey #fairies

149 notes · View notes

tagsecretsanta · 4 years ago

Text

From @TsarinaTorment

to @gumnut-logic

Secret santa does not own this work, full credit to the author mentioned above!

Prompts used: all of them but in true Tsari fashion I also twisted them so much they probably barely resemble the prompts at this point.

Virgil and many, many butterflies (probably not what they had in mind...)

Virgil has a puzzle to solve (actually maybe stayed on some sort of track with this one!)

Virgil and a brother go on a boat trip (of the rescue sort)

Nothing Christmassy, so sorry if my requestee was hoping for that. But on the plus side, it's 8k words of Virgil!

Tsari--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: Steady Hands

Rating: Teen

Characters: Virgil, Gordon, Scott, John... and some friends :D

Summary: One boat. Two brothers. A life-or-death game of Jenga.

“Eeeeaaasy.”

Virgil didn’t bother to glare at his brother, far too used to his distraction techniques. He didn’t even spare him a glance, keeping his attention firmly on what he was doing. Gordon wanted him to fail, like the supportive little brother he was, mostly because he inevitably had a bet on with Alan, and Virgil had far too much pride to let his younger brothers’ schemes throw him off of his game.

He had the steadiest hands of all of his brothers. All four of them were too jittery, too used to moving, whether it be the physical activity Scott and Gordon preferred, or the twitching at the tips of fingers over keyboards and virtual reality. Virgil was an artist, a pianist, an engineer. A medic. His hands didn’t tremble unless he let them.

The tower in front of him wouldn’t fall. Not on his turn.

Perfectly steady hands poked at a single block, careful yet confident. It moved, but its neighbours didn’t. Gordon groaned loudly. Virgil ignored that, too, and once the block moved far enough, deftly plucked it from its fellows.

The tower didn’t even wobble.

“How do you do that?” Gordon groused, pouting at the stack. There were more holes than blocks in the Jenga tower now, and Virgil’s latest move had left it teetering on the very edge of stable. Even he would struggle to get another out without nudging neighbouring blocks and bringing the whole thing crashing down. Gordon had no chance, and they both knew it.

But Gordon wasn’t a quitter. Eyes narrowed in concentration and tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth, he surveyed the stack in front of him for several moments in silence, assessing. None of the blocks would go without pulling others down with them, Virgil knew, but Gordon still refused to throw the game.

Eyes almost slits, he selected his target and reached out to touch it.

“International Rescue, we have a situation.”

Clatter.

“Aw, man!” Gordon complained, looking at the jumble of blocks in front of him. “That doesn’t count! John knocked them down!”

“John’s a hologram,” Virgil reminded him, satisfied grin on his face. “That was no more of a distraction than you talking when I picked. My victory.”

“What’s the situation, John?” Scott cut in, ignoring them in preference of John as he always did when a call came in. With one last look at the still-pouting Gordon, Virgil turned his own attention to the projection of his brother.

“There’s a large fishing trawler in distress,” John said. “There was a small explosion in the engine room and now they’re taking on water. The crew are requesting evacuation.”

Virgil straightened up. He didn’t need to look to know that Gordon had done the same, poised to dart for his Thunderbird the moment the brief was over.

“What caused the explosion?” he asked. John shrugged.

“The crew don’t know,” he said. “But the ship’s sinking, so I suggest you launch. I’ll see what I can find on the explosion.”

“F.A.B.,” Scott agreed. “Virgil, Gordon – you’re up. I’ll attend in Thunderbird One.” Virgil didn’t wait to hear anything else, standing up and heading over to the painting that concealed his launch chute and trusting his brothers to be doing the same. “Thunderbirds are go!”

Scott always loved saying that. He denied it, but Virgil knew his big brother.

John was efficient. By the time Virgil was sat in his pilot seat, Module Four selected and little brother rising up into the cockpit behind him, Thunderbird Two’s navigation systems were updated with the precise location of the distressed trawler.

It wasn’t too far, down in the waters south of Tasmania, and before long they got visual on the boat in question. It was listing to one side, figures crowded on deck. From the way they were waving up at Scott in Thunderbird One, Virgil thought it was a pretty safe bet that they were the crew.

“That boat’s too big for Thunderbird Two to stabilise,” Gordon noted. “I’ll see what I can do from the water.”

“F.A.B.,” Virgil agreed.

“I’ll drop down and help the evacuation,” Scott said over the comms. “Virgil, stay overhead in Thunderbird Two and drop the rescue platform. It’ll be a tight fit without the module, but once they’re on board take them to the nearest port. John?”

“I’ve got their home port located,” the ginger said. “Sending co-ordinates now.”

“Once they’re all evac’d, I’ll look around and see if I can find what caused this,” Scott continued. “If Gordon can get the hull patched, we’ll get the GDF out to tow it to port.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Gordon said, hologram flickering to live next to John’s on the dash. “Ready for module deployment, Virg.”

“Dropping you now, Gords.” He brought Thunderbird Two into a hover just above the water and released the module. The familiar shudder passed through his ‘bird as she dropped her belly, and it was with a practiced hand that he kept her steady. Out of the window, he saw Scott bring Thunderbird One down before dropping the few feet onto the deck. The silver rocket soared back into the sky under remote control or autopilot – Virgil didn’t know exactly which controls were being used but she wasn’t slaved to Two – as Scott made his way to the crew.

Leaving his big brother to corral them, he focused on his own task, bringing Thunderbird Two overhead and getting ready to drop the rescue platform.

“How many guests am I expecting, Thunderbird Five?” he asked.

“Captain tells me there’s ten,” John told him. “Life signs agree.”

“Gonna be cosy in here,” he observed.

“Cosy or not, we’re ready for evac, Thunderbird Two,” Scott cut in.

“Copy that, Thunderbird One. Lowering the platform now.”

Aside from the unknown cause of the explosion, it was about as standard as they got. Well, Virgil wasn’t used to carrying an entire crew in his cockpit, but aside from that little detail, it was nice and simple.

“Scott, I’ve just picked up another life sign.”

Well, it was simple, until John dropped that little detail. Already leaving the danger zone, Virgil glanced over at the captain, sat in the co-pilot’s seat.

“I thought we had the whole crew here?”

The captain looked shocked. “We do.”

Virgil frowned. “Thunderbird One, all heads are accounted for.”

“Thunderbird Two, keep going. I’ll find our mystery person and evac them in One.”

“I’ll help you search, Thunderbird One,” Gordon chipped in. “I’ve patched up the hole best I can; I’ll leave Four here and join you.”

“F.A.B., Thunderbird Four. Everything’s under control here, Thunderbird Two,” Scott assured him. “You get the crew to dry land.”

“F.A.B.,” Virgil agreed.

“I don’t get it,” the captain said, shaking his head. “There are only ten of us. Who’s the other life sign?”

“If I had to guess, Captain,” John said, “I’d say that’s probably the cause of your explosion. Scott, Gordon, be careful.”

“Noted, Thunderbird Five. Gordon, I’ll rendezvous with you on deck.”

“F.A.B.”

Both his brothers flickered out of sight, presumably switching to a private channel, and Virgil let out a breath, glancing over at the crew behind him. There weren’t enough seats for all of them, so he couldn’t go at his usual speeds, and inwardly he frowned. Even if it was Scott and Gordon, he didn’t feel right leaving them with someone potentially dangerous and without backup.

But he had a job to do, and some people to get to shore.

The trip took longer than he was happy with, but once the crew were safely offloaded, he turned around and shot for the boat and his brothers as fast as Thunderbird Two could go.

“Scott, Gordon, you found our mystery life sign yet?”

His brothers flickered into view.

“Negative, Virgil. No sign of them yet. John keeps losing the signal. I’m guessing it must be some sort of cloaking device.” Scott looked frustrated.

“I don’t like this,” Virgil said bluntly. “Call the GDF to deal with it and get off that boat. If you haven’t found them yet they’re trying not to be found.”

The journey was much shorter when he could go at top speed. Thunderbird One was still hovering above the boat, gleaming silver from the sun.

“Virgil, this boat is still likely to sink. We’ve got to get them off,” Scott argued. “We can’t wait for the GDF.”

“Scott’s right, Virg,” Gordon agreed. “We’ve got to- Scott! I saw them!”

He broke into a run, Scott seemingly hot on his heels.

“Guys,” Virgil ground out. “Guys, if they don’t want to-”

BOOM.

The explosion rocked the boat; through the cockpit windows he saw it list from one side to the other, and then back again, noticeably lower in the water. The cabin was gone, replaced with timber sized matchsticks.

“Scott?” he shouted. “Gordon?”

His brother’s holograms flickered once, twice, and then they vanished. No, no, no. Virgil didn’t think, just reacted, pushing his ‘bird forward the last short distance and firing the grapples down towards the once again sinking boat. As Gordon had noted earlier, it exceeded her lifting power, and VTOLs shrieked as he gunned them with everything she had. His brothers were still down there, somewhere inside looking for their elusive lifesign, and he absolutely was not letting them slip from his grasp. Not now, not ever.

“Scott!” he shouted again, over the sound of Thunderbird Two’s screaming engines. “Gordon! Come in!”

Autopilot couldn’t keep the pressure on the VTOLs; if he tried to leave the cockpit and find them himself, the boat would sink. Even on manual pilot, Thunderbird Two couldn’t hold it for long. A shudder ran through his ‘bird and he grit his teeth. He wasn’t Scott, but he still solved problems. Logistics. Thunderbird Two was at maximum lift strength; her engines would burn out if he kept this up.

His brothers were still down there, unresponsive. He couldn’t risk that.

Module Four was floating on the swell of the waves, waiting for Thunderbird Four’s return. The bright sub was under the waterline; he could just about see her through the ocean swell. Remote controlling her was difficult, and he didn’t know precisely what Gordon had done with her to latch her to the boat. She was also their backup exit if their route to the deck was blocked.

After the explosion, it probably was.

So he couldn’t move Thunderbird Four. Gordon would know exactly where he’d left his ‘bird, and would be making for her if they hadn’t been incapacitated by the explosion. With neither of them picking up comms, Virgil knew better than to cling to a false hope, but he still couldn’t risk it, just in case they were fine and it was just some damaged radios.

He did have Thunderbird One. Her lifting power was nowhere near that of Thunderbird Two’s, but combined, it might just be enough to keep the boat from sinking. It was now an inconvenience that Scott hadn’t slaved her console to his, but he could still override her from Thunderbird Two, and unlike Thunderbird Four, there was no way she’d be of use to his brothers in the boat.

Jaw set, he flicked the control pad and jabbed in the override code for Thunderbird One, slaving her to her sister’s controls before remote piloting her to the more laden end of the ship. One high-tensile grapple cable fired.

It missed. He didn’t have Scott’s precision, or Gordon’s innate dead aim. Those thoughts got pushed away as he reeled the cable back in to send out a second time. The ship below him had to be secured – before Thunderbird Two’s VTOL overheated. He could worry about finding his brothers once he knew the ship wasn’t sinking any more.

The second shot caught, the light going green to represent the clang of success he couldn’t hear over Thunderbird Two’s engines. Thunderbird One’s VTOLs joined the chorus; a cacophony of sound so loud he could barely hear himself think. It was enough.

Just.

Virgil still couldn’t risk autopilot on Thunderbird Two, the weight remaining beyond her official lifting parameters. If it wasn’t for Brains’ over-engineering, she wouldn’t be holding even with her sister’s help.

“John!” he called. Unlike his missing brothers, the ginger appeared immediately. “They’re not picking up. Do you have their signals?”

John looked annoyed, and a little worried. That wasn’t good.

“Their location transmitters are still working,” he said. “But I can’t get either of them to respond, either.”

“Take control of Thunderbird Two,” Virgil ordered. “I’m going to get them.”

“F.A.B. Taking control of both Thunderbirds One and Two now.”

The holographic symbol for Thunderbird Five flashed up over his controls, and Virgil released his grip on them, trusting John – or EOS – to keep the boat from sinking.

Now he had two brothers to save.

“Locations, John?”

“They’re both in the engine room,” his brother told him, the boat’s schematics appearing over his wrist controller as he hurried along the internal corridors of his ‘bird. Her module was detached, floating too far away to reach, but Virgil made it a point to have one Jaws of Life accessible at all times. Just in case.

That just in case paid off as he reached the small storage room, filled with spare gear – and a half-eaten celery crunch bar. He ignored it, but made a mental note to remind Gordon where food was and wasn’t permitted on Thunderbird Two later. Once his brothers were safe.

“Bzzt!”

Static erupted from his wrist controller just as he began to shrug on the mechanical exosuit and he paused, tapping at it to try and clear the signal.

“Bzzt! -irgil? Bzztin -Two!”

“Gordon?” The static was bad, but Virgil still recognised his brother’s voice. “Gordon, can you hear me?”

“I’ll try to boost the signal,” John said. Virgil nodded distractedly, his focus on his comm as it crackled again.

“-ear you,” Gordon confirmed amongst more static. “-dio damaged. Bzzt-bzzt-pair job.”

“What’s your status?” He resumed suiting up, unwilling to waste a moment if his brother was trapped.

“-t great,” his comm crackled. “Not hurt bzzt-ott bzzt cold.”

Virgil frowned, trying to parse what his brother had said through the static.

“Say again, Gordon?”

“Bzzt-t hurt bzzt Scott-bzzt-t cold.”

That was either Scott’s cold or Scott’s out cold, and considering the lack of communication from his older brother, Virgil decided to assume it was the latter. That was a problem, but not an insurmountable one.

“I’m on my way down to you,” he declared, Jaws of Life now settled over him. “Any idea what caused the explosion?”

“-egative, Virg. It’s bzzt-gerous.” Virgil scowled, hearing Gordon’s too dangerous protest and wondering if he thought for one moment that that would stop him. “-ther problem. Bzzt-bzzt-”

“-me a probl-bzzt?” another, unfamiliar voice cut in. Sharp, female. Their missing life sign?

“-ou-bzzt been goo-bzzt-bzzt-fore,” Gordon retorted.

“Gordon?” Virgil cut in. “What’s the problem?”

“-os Crew bzzt-bzzt.” Whatever else Gordon had to say was lost in a snow of static, but Virgil had heard enough to start piecing it all together. Chaos Crew. Explosions. Unfamiliar female voice.

Gordon, and presumably an unconscious Scott, were with Havoc, and Fuse was running around somewhere with no eyes on him.

“Gordon, I’m coming,” he said, cutting off whatever the static was supposed to be. He hoped their connection was better on his brother’s end. “John’s given me your location.”

“No!” Gordon protested, but Virgil ignored him as he left the safety of Thunderbird Two to slide down one of the cables holding the boat up. The roar of the engines drowned out anything coming from his comms for several long moments before his boots hit the surface of the deck.

He’d known it was bad, but this was worse. His comms spluttered at him but he ignored Gordon’s static-garbled protests that he’d left his ‘bird in favour of reassessing the situation.

Virgil was no Scott, able to take everything in at a glance and make snap decisions, but he had an eye for detail and the patience to spend an extra moment looking things over before acting. It was that eye that told him this was not going to be easy.

The main entrance to get below deck – he was sure it had a name but that was Gordon’s area and Virgil might not be Scott but right now he did not have the time to waste on remembering it – was entirely collapsed in, the cabin so much steel and timber covering it and well and truly trapping anyone down below. According to the schematics, that was the only way down.

This was why Virgil had the Jaws of Life with him.

“Virgil.” John’s voice overrode Gordon’s crackling with an urgency that demanded his attention right that moment. “I can’t boost their radio signals any further, but I did manage to boost their suit telemetry and get a more detailed scan of the compartment they’re trapped in.”

“Let me guess,” Virgil sighed, stomping over to the mangled mess of former-cabin and starting to calculate the best way to clear it. “Bad news?”

“Scott’s helmet’s taken some damage, probably from the initial blast, and his oxygen supply is depleted.” Virgil frowned as he identified the first bit of rubble that needed to go – a large sheet of mangled metal that was probably part of the cabin’s roof or walls.

“So they can’t swim for it? That’s not a problem unless their compartment starts to flood,” he observed. It wasn’t ideal, and if Scott’s helmet was damaged that confirmed that he was probably unconscious, but he trusted Gordon to do any initial first aid until he got there.

He ignored the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Yeah,” John said in that flat way that meant bad news. “About that.”

Uh oh. “It’s already flooding?”

“Got it in one. The flow’s reasonably slow and the compartment’s quite big so they’ve got time, but I’d estimate ten minutes and they’ll be under.”

“And with Scott unconscious he can’t hold his breath.” Virgil scowled and shifted the metal with more force than he should have done. The diluted clang of metal on deck reverberated through his boots.

“I imagine Gordon-”

“Hey, watch it!” John’s speculation – probably on how Gordon, their resident aquanaut and underwater rescue specialist, was going to get oxygen to Scott when his helmet was damaged and didn’t fit Gordon’s rebreather anyway – was cut off by a disgruntled exclamation from behind him.

Virgil turned to see unmistakable purple armour, and wondered how on earth he’d missed Fuse coming up behind him.

“You almost hit me with that!” the young man griped, but his heart didn’t seem to be in the accompanying pout. Instead, he was hurrying forwards, almost frantically, and Virgil remembered that Fuse was reportedly Havoc’s brother. “What are you doing throwing metal around on a ship full of explosives?”

“What?”

Virgil hadn’t seen any more explosives. There weren’t supposed to be explosives on the ship.

Fuse hurried past him – probably as fast as he could run in that suit – and started digging through the pile. Metal and wood creaked in protest at him and Virgil clapped a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back.

“Hey! Careful or you’ll bring the lot down.”

“I left a charge around here,” Fuse told him, and Virgil took a deep breath. “They weren’t supposed to go off yet!” He sounded panicked and even though it was blindingly obvious this whole thing was Fuse’s fault – probably directed by the Hood – Virgil couldn’t help but slip into reassuring rescuer mode. That was what he did, after all.

“Okay, okay, take a breath,” he instructed, eyeing the pile of former cabin warily as he tugged Fuse to take a step back. The young man resisted, but Virgil was stronger and he stumbled a single pace away from the pile. “How many explosives are on the ship?”

Fuse glanced around, clearly nervous and slightly scared. Virgil could relate, but he’d been doing the job long enough to compartmentalise that part of his brain and still-fluttering stomach. “Uh… I’m not sure. Nine or ten? I think? I just put them where the Boss said to.”

The silence in his ear from a definitely-eavesdropping John turned frosty, even though his brother still didn’t say a word. No doubt he was about to do his best to wreak hell on the elusive criminal.

“And how many haven’t gone off?” How much of a ticking timebomb was this ship he was stood on – the ship his brothers were trapped in and slowly running out of air as the water seeped in, the ship three Thunderbirds were attached to?

“Only one went off,” Fuse said. He was wringing his hands, still glancing around nervously. “It shouldn’t have gone off until Havoc was clear. He said she’d be safe!”

“Well, she’s trapped with my brothers somewhere down there,” Virgil pointed out. “Where are those explosives and how long do we have until they go off?”

“Five minutes,” Fuse gulped. “I think. But that one went off early and the others are all close enough that if one goes…”

“They all go,” Virgil realised with a sigh. He assessed the situation again. “You want Havoc out of there, I want my brothers out. There’s five minutes, tops, until this boat blows.” Those ten minutes of air didn’t seem significant any more. He took a breath. “We’re going to have to work together on this.”

Fuse glanced sideways, thinking, and Virgil fervently hoped that he loved his sister more than he feared the Hood. John hadn’t warned him about the explosives, which meant Thunderbird Five hadn’t picked them up – the Chaos Crew’s cloaking technology was something Brains and Kayo were itching to get their hands on. That meant that if he had to do it alone, he was working blind. Five minutes to disarm nine or ten explosives… even with the person who had made and placed them with him, it was going to be tight.

It felt like an eternity before Fuse sighed and met his gaze. “Okay.”

Okay. Plan of action time. “We need to get those bombs disarmed as quickly as possible,” Virgil said, knowing the words were redundant but saying them all the same. “Tell me where they are and how to disarm them, and we’ll take half each.” A minute per bomb – just under. He could do that, except Fuse was wringing his hands again.

“I don’t know how to turn them off.”

“What!” Virgil didn’t panic – was the last of his brothers to ever panic in a given situation – but he was starting to get really, really close. “You make them! How do you not know how to disarm them?”

“I-I’ve never had to!” Fuse protested, and right then he’d never looked more like a kid. Virgil took a deep breath, pushing the panic back because this just made things a lot harder but he wasn’t giving up. Not now and not ever.

“We don’t have time for this,” he ground out. “Do you have one with you that isn’t primed?”

Fuse nodded jerkily and reached behind him, withdrawing the familiar purple triangle of a Chaos Crew bomb. Virgil took it gingerly and wasted no time in slipping an arm out of the Jaws of Life to palm a hexdriver and pry the cover off. Five minutes – probably four, now – to work out how to disarm them, teach Fuse, and then get nine-or-ten bombs disarmed.

Easy peasy.

The crisscrossed wires that greeted him weren’t complex, thankfully. If they were, then no amount of miracles would have been enough to pull it off. But it was a simple enough wire pattern; only two wires needed cutting to render them useless.

Well, they could have done with knowing that several times in the past. If all Fuse’s bombs were like this, that was a lot of explosions they could stop. But he didn’t have time to muse on that right now.

“You have a hexdriver and wirecutter?” he asked Fuse, who shook his head. Silently despairing – and starting to wonder if the Hood’s plan wasn’t to one day blow the kid up with his own bombs – Virgil fished out spares from his toolbelt and handed them over. “Okay, it’s simple enough, luckily for us. Pop the cover, and cut these two wires.” He pointed, and then demonstrated by doing it on the one in his hand. “Those two. Got it?”

Fuse stared at the bomb, swallowed loud enough for Virgil to hear it, then nodded.

“Yeah, I got it.”

For the sake of everyone on the boat, Virgil really hoped he did.

“Okay, so where are they? Time’s running out.” Somewhere, Virgil noticed that Gordon’s static had ceased buzzing in his ear, and really hoped that was John’s doing and not because he’d lost what little contact he had with his younger brother. He didn’t have time to worry about that now, not with three and a half minutes and five bombs to disarm.

Luckily, with a plan of action in place, Fuse seemed to regain both his confidence and his memory, bringing up a schematic of the ship and highlighting the ten points he’d fixed bombs to.

“That’s the one that went off,” he said, indicating one inside the cabin area. It was positioned to do exactly what it had managed and cripple the cabin, Virgil noticed. The others were all scattered around the deck, ensuring no escape if any of them went off. Whoever had been trapped by the initial explosion would never stand a chance.

Three minutes, five bombs.

“I’ll take these five,” Virgil said, pointing at the ones on the left of the boat – port side, Gordon’s voice whispered in his head. “You take the other four.”

Fuse nodded and then they moved. Trusting Fuse – trusting a member of the Chaos Crew – felt like something heavy in his gut but Virgil had no choice. He couldn’t trust Fuse, not really, not after everything the guy had done, but he could and had to trust Fuse’s love for his sister. He stood to lose almost as much as Virgil did if he didn’t help.

That, Virgil clung to as he found the first purple bomb, merrily flashing red at him. Popping the cover was harder when it was fixed down to something, but Virgil wasn’t going to let anything stop him and the purple casing was no match for a Tracy on a mission. Two quick but steady snips of the wirecutter later, and that was one down, four to go.

Onto the next.

He reached the fifth and final one with thirty seconds to go. Plenty of time, but the casing didn’t pop off when he levered at it like all of the others had. Instead, it bent alarmingly, and the red flashing light sped up, much like Virgil’s heartrate was doing. He tried tackling it from another angle, but the cover might as well have been superglued for all the luck he was having.

Fuse let out a shout that sounded triumphant from the other end of the boat, and Virgil took a deep breath. Fifteen seconds, and this was the last one. If Fuse was telling the truth, but Fuse had to be telling the truth otherwise his sister was going to die, too.

Ten seconds, and the cover still refused to budge. He wasn’t going to get it disarmed in time, but Virgil wasn’t giving up. Not now, not ever.

Five seconds and he finished cutting around the part of the boat it was fixed to with his laser. He didn’t know how big the blast radius was going to be, but the further from the boat it was, the better their odds.

He was still wearing the Jaws of Life. Virgil wasn’t the best pitcher in the world, but he had mechanical assistance and the steadfast determination that no-one’s dying today. With barely two seconds left, the bomb was hurtling through the air, away from the boat into the open ocean.

It barely reached the water before exploding, sending a shockwave that rocked the boat and had Virgil stumbling backwards, colliding with the cable from Thunderbird One. Above him, VTOL continued to scream their displeasure.

He took a moment to breathe, stomach churning its way back to stability one breath at a time, before pushing himself upright again.

The rescue wasn’t over yet. The bombs were gone, but there was only five minutes left until the compartment his brothers were in flooded. Gordon had plenty of oxygen and could hold his breath another five minutes, easily. Longer, if he was prepared. He had no idea what Havoc’s condition was, beyond ‘conscious and sniping with Gordon last he heard’, but Scott was unconscious and while Virgil had every faith that Gordon would be able to work something out, the fact was that they hadn’t gone into the rescue expecting to need extra oxygen, and Gordon’s supplies were mostly in Thunderbird Four.

He trusted Gordon, but the hard number he had was five minutes before Scott was at risk of drowning.

His comm crackled into life, Gordon’s voice barely audible past the static, but he couldn’t make out a single word his brother was saying. That didn’t stop him from hearing the underlying panic.

“Gordon, I can’t hear you,” he replied, pulling himself together and heading back towards the ruined cabin, where Fuse was staring somewhat blankly at the pile of rubble between them and their siblings. “John, is there any way to clear this static?”

“It’s physical damage to the unit, so there’s nothing I can do,” his brother said, sounding rather annoyed at the failure of their communications. Virgil didn’t blame him. “But after that shockwave, the boat seems to have taken more damage. The compartment’s filling faster now. I’d estimate you have two minutes, three at most, before they’re underwater.”

So much for five minutes.

“Any good news for me, John?”

“You… seem to be working with Fuse rather well?” his brother offered. “Otherwise, I’m afraid not. Communications are still down, as you’re finding, I don’t know any more than you do on their conditions, and both Thunderbirds are struggling to keep the boat up. Once you’ve got them out you’ll need to move fast.”

“So no breathing room until we’re off this sinking boat,” Virgil summarised. “Thanks, John.”

“Just get them out,” his brother responded.

Virgil slid his arm back into the Jaws of Life and felt the technology whirr around him as he returned to Fuse’s side and the jumble of debris between him and his brothers.

“Does Havoc have an oxygen supply?” he asked. “They’ll be underwater in less than three minutes.”

“If it’s not damaged,” Fuse slumped, reaching for the mishmash of former-cabin. “Her radio’s damaged and I can’t contact her.”

“Well I heard her over what little communication I’ve got with my brothers, so she’s conscious,” Virgil reassured him. “We just have to get them out.” He eyed the mess in front of him and shook his head. Move the wrong bit and it’d probably all go crashing down. “Just like Jenga. You any good at that?”

Fuse shook his head. “Don’t play that sort of game.”

“In that case, stand back,” Virgil told him. “I’m good at Jenga.” Although admittedly he’d never played it with people’s lives on the line before, or on a time limit.

The load-bearing chunks of broken cabin were easy enough to pinpoint, and it was with all the confidence of years of heavy lifting that he cleared away all the loose debris so that it wouldn’t fall when he moved the heavier ones later. Still, he was ever-conscious of the time slipping away from him, and it only took one jerky move to send a cascade of small segments tumbling down, past the load-bearing sections and into the belly of the ship.

Less haste, more speed, he scolded himself, but the action had actually cleared the immediate issue; the load-bearing struts were no longer load-bearing, and with a mechanical whine, the Jaws of Life made short work relocating them to clear the area.

One minute down, one to go, and he still had to find his brothers. They were still in the engine room, and the fact that they hadn’t moved told him that they must be stuck there. Unconscious Scott or not, Gordon would have moved them as close to the exit as he could get.

Unless Havoc…

No, he refused to let that cross his mind. Fuse was working with him to make sure Havoc was safe. Surely Havoc was smart enough to know that working with Gordon would be better for her than being hostile. He’d even heard Gordon’s garbled tones over the comms not two minutes earlier. Havoc wasn’t the problem, not this time.

The problem was the collapsed corridor between him and the engine room.

Time was ticking, the fluttering in his stomach that had died down was back in full force because he could hear the water sloshing around on the other side of the barricade but not his brothers, and there was an entire collapsed section of corridor in the way.

If he couldn’t hear Gordon sniping with Havoc or trying to rouse Scott, they were probably already underwater. If Scott hadn’t regained consciousness, his life was entirely in Gordon’s hands right now, and while there were no hands Virgil trusted more given the situation the fear was curling up inside him that he was too late.

No.

He took a deep breath.

He was not too late. He was going to get them out of there and he was going to do it now.

Virgil had steady hands. He was an artist, a pianist, an engineer. No matter how much his stomach fluttered as though an entire swarm of frantic butterflies had taken up residence and his heart raced to the rhythm of a bomb’s flickering red light moments before detonation, his hands stayed steady.

It was those steady hands that reached out and directed the mechanical hands of the Jaws of Life to dig their way through the jumble of broken boat in his way. Fast, but steady and sure as he stopped letting himself think about lifeless bodies and instead remembered the game of Jenga he’d been having with Gordon just before the call came in. Jenga was easy, a simple logistics puzzle, and Virgil slipped into that mindset. All the turns were his, the tower of blocks was a mass of broken boat, and Virgil hadn’t lost a game of Jenga in years.

That record was not breaking now.

Debris piled up beside him, and at some point Fuse had followed him down, but Virgil’s focus was on the shimmering surface of rising water as he broke through the precariously-balanced debris. A blur of purple almost knocked him over, but while Havoc was strong, she was slight and he caught her – sopping wet and clearly fuming – by the shoulders.

“Go careful or it’ll fall down on top of you,” he warned her. She scoffed and shrugged him off before hurrying past him, but she wasn’t his concern any more, not when there was IR blue with a bright splash of yellow breaking the surface of the water and taking in a huge lungful of air.

Gordon was helmetless, blond hair plastered to his face as water trailed down his skin as though he was in the swimming pool at home. Aside from the deep breaths he was taking after holding his breath for however long, he seemed fine, and Virgil’s attention snapped to the limp body he was clutching.

The yellow-rimmed helmet jammed on Scott’s head and creatively secured with far too much insulation tape to keep it air and water tight did not belong to his eldest brother. It didn’t fit right – hence the need for the insulation tape – and was definitely too small, but Gordon’s yellow rebreather was attached to it and while it was an unorthodox solution that Scott would be complaining about later, Virgil had no doubt it had saved his life.

“Good thinking,” he praised, reaching down to take Scott from his brother. “Injuries?”

As soon as he had hold of him, Gordon was scrabbling at the tape, ripping it off in a way that was bound to smart Scott later. “Not that I don’t like hugs, but there’s no way we’re getting through that tunnel tied together,” the aquanaut said in a rush. He was right; the rebreather was still attached to Gordon’s baldric and getting Scott out was going to be difficult enough without them being linked together. “I’m fine, wasn’t near the blast, but Scott got hit in the head by the debris and it smashed his helmet. He’s been out of it since everything went boom.” That worried Virgil, but what worried him more was how long it was taking Gordon to get the helmet off of Scott’s head.

The water level was still rising.

“Ah hah!” Gordon exclaimed triumphantly as the last of the tape came off and he was able to detach the rebreather and reclaim his helmet. Trusting his fish of a brother to get himself out of the water, especially now he had his helmet back, Virgil turned his attention to Scott and hauled the limp body clear of the flooded room.

Despite the helmet, his hair was still wet. Virgil latched onto that observation as he pulled him over his shoulder and headed back for the exit as fast as he could. Behind him, the familiar sound of wet flippers reassured him that Gordon was following, but also told him that the water levels were still rising.

“Thunderbird One’s VTOLs are overheating,” John said suddenly, his voice grim. “She won’t hold much longer.”

Virgil frowned. If Thunderbird One went down in the ocean, she’d be all but impossible to retrieve and he really didn’t need any more delays. He eyed the end of the corridor, knowing that somewhere, Fuse and Havoc were ahead of him.

“Any sign of the Chaos Crew?” he asked, speeding up as much as he dared. A jolt in the wrong place would bring the debris down on top of them. Water sloshed around his ankles.

“I’ve lost them.” He could imagine John shaking his head. “I’d assume that means they’re in their ship and clear.”

Virgil was going to have to take that chance.

“Is Thunderbird Four still attached to the boat?” Gordon asked. Virgil had all but forgotten the little yellow sub, but John confirmed it and he nodded, realising that with his comms still down, Gordon couldn’t hear their brother.

“John, cut Thunderbird One loose and get Thunderbird Four back to the module,” he said.

“Are you sure? Thunderbird Two can’t take the full weight of the boat for long,” John reminded him.

Virgil reached the end of the corridor, water somewhere near the top of his boots, and gestured for Gordon to go on ahead. The aquanaut started to frown, then glanced at Scott and acquiesced.

“I’m sure,” he said, watching Gordon scramble up to the deck. “We can’t afford Thunderbird One crashing, and Thunderbird Two can hold long enough.”

She had to.

“EOS has Thunderbird Four,” John informed him. “She’ll be back in the module in approximately forty seconds. I’ll cut Thunderbird One loose once you’re on the deck. Not before.”

Virgil supposed that was as good a reason as any to hurry. Gordon was clear, leaning back in to take Scott, and he passed their brother up to him before heaving his way out.

True to John’s word, above them Thunderbird One jerked skywards, disengaging from the boat. Her VTOLs were spluttering painfully, and in the blink of an eye John had her diverting power to the rear thrusters and jetting off for home.

Thunderbird Two squealed, a noise that shot right through Virgil as the boat juddered and lurched beneath his feet. A resounding crash from below deck told him that his careful Jenga of debris had toppled entirely, but they were all clear so that didn’t matter now.

What mattered was getting onboard Thunderbird Two as she juddered and shrieked in protest at the weight Virgil was asking her to hold up, just a little longer.

“Thirty seconds before her engines reach critical,” John warned him. “Get on board now.”

Gordon had hold of Scott, one hand clinging to the deck while the other clutched his brother’s unmoving form close. A particularly large lurch had Virgil crashing down, landing on one knee and forcing him to stabilise himself with one of his claws. Above them, swinging violently with the Thunderbird’s movement, the cockpit platform lowered.

If all three of them were conscious, they’d make it. But Scott’s eyes were still closed, and either Virgil or Gordon needed to sacrifice their hands to keep hold of him. Hands that were very much needed to keep their own balance and scramble onto the platform.

Gordon knew it, too. Virgil could see it in his eyes.

“Go,” he said, reaching to take Scott. “Get on board.”

“Not a chance,” Gordon disagreed. “I’m the aquanaut. If anyone’s going in the water, it’s me. You’re weighed down by the exosuit.”

He was right, but Virgil didn’t want to admit it. He’d only just managed to get Scott and Gordon out of the water; the last thing he wanted was either of them going back in, but Thunderbird Two’s lurching was getting worse and he could hear her VTOLs starting to splutter.

“How about you all move and no-one goes in the water?” John snapped in his ear. “Virgil, get on the platform.” He sounded half angry, half terrified. Not for the first time, Virgil decided that he did not envy his older brother’s job.

Another lurch sent all three of them sprawling sideways, slamming them against the side of the deck and further from the rescue platform. Something went clatter.

Virgil saw something fall past him, but before he could register what it was, there was a dull thunk, like the sound of one of their cables hitting the deck, and the ship lurched back upright.

“What the hell?” Gordon muttered. “What was- oh.”

Oh indeed.

Virgil looked at the cable that had just appeared where Thunderbird One’s had been, heard Thunderbird Two’s VTOLs quiet down just a tad as something else took the strain, and followed the thick grey line up to see a purple and grey machine spluttering away.

“I guess she didn’t hate me after all,” Gordon quipped, but Virgil could hear the wide-eyed surprise in his voice.

There wasn’t time to wonder why the Chaos Cruiser was helping them. The little thing was even less equipped to hold the boat up than Thunderbird One had been, and wouldn’t last long. But the little clatter had reminded him of something he really shouldn’t have forgotten in the first place.

“Gordon, hand me Scott’s grapple launcher.”

There was a split second pause before Gordon dove for their brother’s baldric. “Oh, we’re idiots. Virgil, get moving.”

“Gordon-”

“I’m the better shot, and also less weight,” his brother argued. “Get moving.” The aquanaut didn’t even wait for him to agree before firing straight at the hole in the bottom of the cockpit. It was a bulls’ eye, of course, and Virgil stifled a reflex noise of complaint as he scooped Scott up and scrambled for the rescue platform.

It was still rocking, the Chaos Cruiser not strong enough to fully stabilise the boat, but with stubborn determination and a healthy dose of grappling using the Jaws of Life, he fumbled his way onto the platform, Scott in a heap beside him. The familiar whirring of a grapple cable – and seriously, why hadn’t they remembered Scott had those until one of his grapple packs had fallen out of his baldric – heralded Gordon swinging in on a rapidly-shortening cable, and with a sigh of relief that sounded an awful lot like finally, John set the platform rising back into the cockpit.

Just before they were swallowed up by his ‘bird, Virgil found himself looking out at the Chaos Cruiser. Havoc and Fuse both stared back, one gaze cold as ice, the other warmer than he’d expected. Then it cloaked, shimmering into invisibility, and he was staring at the inside of his cockpit.

Thunderbird Two juddered, and the red warning lights shut off.

“I cut her loose,” John said from his wrist before he could panic. “I’ll get her to pick up Thunderbird Four, and then she’s heading for home, unless Scott needs a hospital?”

Scott. It was against regulations and Virgil was going to be grumbling at himself for it later, but he disengaged the Jaws of Life entirely and stepped out of it, leaving it loose in the cockpit. Gordon had already crouched down next to their brother, and was poking Scott’s cheek.

The malcontent grumble he got was music to Virgil’s ears. “He’s waking up, John, but I’ll do a scan just to be sure.” Bleary blue eyes blinked at him as he held the scanner up, and Gordon broke into a relieved grin.

“Hey, bro,” he beamed. “Nice to see you back.”

“Ow,” Scott rasped as the scan flashed up a group of ambers but no reds. Nothing they couldn’t handle at home. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing particularly exciting,” Gordon told him airily, in that tone that all older brothers knew meant trouble. Virgil was pleased to see Scott squinting at him suspiciously. “Just a woman with a very sharp tongue and an extended swimming session. Pretty fun, actually!”

“Your idea of fun concerns me,” Virgil drawled, but kept his eyes on Scott, who was already pushing himself to sit up. “John, I think home is fine.”

“F.A.B.” His brother didn’t even bother hiding the relief in his voice.

“Do I want to know?” Scott asked, voice dripping with suspicion. It was a rhetorical question – he’d be hounding them for every last detail before the day was done.

“Know that we maybe kinda just a little might need to be a smidge thankful for the Chaos Crew saving our butts?” Gordon asked in that same sunny tone. “Probably not.”

“We saved them first,” Virgil clarified before Scott could explode. “Long story short, your last life sign was Havoc, one of the explosives Fuse planted went off too soon which knocked you out and trapped you two with Havoc in the engine room, and then I had to teach Fuse how to disarm his own bombs before the rest of them went off, then dig you three out.”

Scott groaned and put a hand to his head. “I think I must be hallucinating, because I could have sworn you just said you taught Fuse to disarm his own bombs.”

“I wish it was all in your head, Scott, but no, that actually happened,” Virgil admitted. “Come on, let’s get you in a seat.” He looped Scott’s arm around his shoulders and grabbed his waist before hoisting him up. Gordon hovered on his other side as they made the short few steps to one of the passenger seats and Scott sank down into it.

“Thunderbird One?”

“John’s sent her home already.” Virgil decided against mentioning the damage to her VTOLs. He didn’t want to be in the room when Scott found out about that. “You were unconscious for fifteen minutes, Scott.” Was it really only fifteen minutes? The whole thing had felt so much longer. “You’re piloting nowhere until Grandma gives you the all clear.”

Scott groaned, but it was his normal groan of annoyance at being grounded and not one of pain. Still, Virgil checked his head with his fingers, which Scott suffered with his usual bad grace. A lump, but no cut – fortunate, considering his unintended swim – and otherwise seemed in pretty good shape considering his spate of unconsciousness. Virgil snapped a cold pack and prodded his brother into holding it against his head.

“And keep it there,” he warned. The eye roll he got in response should have annoyed him but was really just another reassurance.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?” Scott asked. “Because so far I don’t believe a word of it.”

“Unfortunately, big bro, it’s all true,” Gordon drawled. He’d sprawled himself out over the co-pilot’s chair, arms folded behind his head and flippers on the dash. Virgil glowered but the squid ignored him. “Chaos Crew got involved but ended up helping us out. Rather begrudgingly, in Havoc’s case. Virg had Fuse, so he’s the one to ask about him.”

“He was worried about his sister,” Virgil shrugged. “Family loyalty trumps his loyalty to the Hood, apparently.”

“I can believe that,” Gordon shrugged.

Scott sighed. “This all sounds ridiculous. Let’s just go home.”

Virgil grinned. “That’s the plan, Scott.”

“Besides, Virg still owes me a rematch,” Gordon injected. “Johnny ruined our last game.”

“You ruined your own game,” the ginger sniped, proving that he was still eavesdropping. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“I think I’m done with Jenga for the day,” Virgil admitted, pressing his hand over Scott’s on the cool pack as his brother’s grip slackened. A quick check on his brother proved it was just Scott trying to escape treatment again, rather than anything concerning. “How about chess?”

Gordon squinted at him in confusion. “You know you’ll lose.”

Virgil smirked. “We’ll see.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #Tsarinatorment #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #The Chaos Crew

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nightwingshero · 4 years ago

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Questions for an Author

Tagged by the always amazing @chyrstis, thank you love!

Tagging: @water-writings @strafethesesinners @simonxriley @playstationmademe @dieguzguz @xbaebsae @fadedjacket @smithandrogers @geronimo-11 @witchofinterest @shallow-gravy @amistrio @foofygoldfish and anyone else who would like to share!!!

Name: Jodeci but friends call me Jo!

Top 5 Fandoms Written:

➼ Far Cry 5/New Dawn

➼ Batman

➼ Arrowverse

➼ Peaky Blinders

➼ Call of Duty

Top 5 Fandoms You Want To Write For/More:

Yikes. Probably Cyberpunk (if I ever finish the damn game), Call of Duty (because I really need to finish my fic), Batman (see Call of Duty), and I really need to finish Wren’s story, so Far Cry 5. Honestly, all of my fandoms because I really love the characters I’ve developed, plenty many aren’t even aware of, and they’ve been...just chillin’ while I create more and more for other fandoms.

Stories You Wish More People Knew About:

My Call of Duty fics and the Batman story I’m working on...and I guess the Arrowverse stuff too. Like, I can’t complain about the Call of Duty and Batman stuff, because they start off bad, and I am: embarrassed. But Call of Duty is with my very first OC and Batman is honestly one of my faves (see my URL).

Ship(s) Written The Most:

➼ Wren/John (two scales balanced ➼ Wren/Quinn (those who wander) ➼ Blair/Leonard (snow storm) ➼ Emma/Soap ➼ Ashton/Ghost ➼ Veronica/Dick ➼ Dahlia/Alfie.

I included the ship names for those who have them because I love them a bit.

Character(s) Written The Most:

Ah...this where I hide my shame from my OCs because I feel that favoritism is about to show itself. Wren, Emma, Veronica (Call of Duty and Batman), Blair, and Dahlia are the ones I’ve written the most for.

How Many OCs Do You Have:

...I...I don’t want to answer this question. I really down want to drag myself on main like this. I have a lot...like, A LOT. I have an OC page on my blog here. I think that’s the most recent list, but please understand, I haven’t created for a few of them, developed them enough for it. Yikes.

How Many Series Do You Have:

Two. Both planned if I can just finish the first.

What Do You Do With Fics You’re No Longer Interested In?:

I keep them and reread them for fun, or I delete them if they’re no longer a thing I’m interested in and won’t return to.

Coming Soon:

Pieces of Blair’s canon, Dahlia’s canon, and hopefully the second chapter to Stay on the Path for Wren. I also want to try and finally post the next chapter for my CoD fic, because I miss Emma like crazy.

Line From A WIP:

“We’re not waiting around for the other shoe to drop.” Leonard, glancing at us, as if he were clarifying. As if it wasn’t now obvious that their minds were focused on something else. His eyes trailed over us as Jax’s head dropped. “You deserve better.” Leonard added, his gaze falling to Jax as he turned, walking to the door. Mick gave one brief look before following his partner’s lead, their boots echoing through the room.

“Alexa?” Mick asked as Martin stepped away, a look of hopelessness on his face as we watched them leave.

“You bet your ass.” Leonard replied before the doors shut.

It’s silent for a moment as the atmosphere around us seemed heavy with things that were left unsaid, things that had been said, but mostly from the things we were all thinking, the truth of the situation that if said, if confirmed that we were on the same page would make it real. Too real. This was on Rip, no matter how you looked at it, and I felt that. I understood that. I squeezed Jax’s shoulder, glancing between both of them. “Did he tell you the risk?” I murmured.

“Nah.” Jax shook his head, giving a slight shrug. “Didn’t matter. It needed to be done either way Might as well be me, I’m a mechanic.”

Martin cleared his throat, turning to me with a somber expression. “Captain Hunter was indeed notified of the level of contamination being three percent above maximum, although he did assure me that Jefferson would be able to finish before the radiation would affect him.” I hesitated as my brow raised. Stepping away from Jax, I walked to Martin, gently pulling him aside by his arm.

“He what?” I breathed out softly. The old professor shifted, glancing at Jax before looking at me and whispering.

“The captain seemed confident in assuring Jefferson’s safety—”

“And yet we’re sitting here while his organs are aging at a dangerously rapid rate; proof on the contrary, Professor.” I insisted. Another glance in Jackson’s direction only added more concern to Martin’s face, and my heart tugged for them. “He’s aware of your situation, I’m aware of your situation, and we both know how this ends if something happens to Jax…he promised you, Martin.” I trailed off, shaking my head in disbelief. Anger began to make my blood boil, tears threatening to blur my vision. “It’s as if…” Finally, with a huff, I turned away, shocking both Jax and Martin as I began to storm out.

Do You Accept Prompts?

I do! It might take me a minute to get to them, but I gladly accept prompts. It helps me get things flowing sometimes, and it’s always nice when I receive them. It makes me smile.

How Do You Feel About Kudos?

That makes me smile even more. It’s nice to have feedback and to hear what people think about my work.

Do You Read Fic As Well?:

I do, yes, and I actually just started reading some again, because I wasn’t for the longest time. It’s nice to read and enjoy instead of feeling the pressure to bust out work constantly. It’s nice to just create and enjoy for me.

#about me #tag game

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strongxsurvivors · 4 years ago

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MLM SHIPS, FETIZATION, AND MISOGYNY IN THE RPC.

This is a small, or not-so-small, rant about a problem ( in my opinion ) I see more and more often in both the rp community and the art community. As a member of both, I just can’t escape this issue and need to put out some food for thought for everyone to read.

Not all of you are going to agree with me. Maybe, some will want to add in their two cents. Maybe, it’ll go over someone’s head completely. I simply appreciate you putting the time into reading this and giving it, like, two seconds of thought. It may not be an issue for you or be completely unrelated to you, but this is an issue I’m sure others will be able to relate to.

I will preface this by saying that I am a twenty-five year old transman. I am bisexual. I have a degree in psychology and excelled in gender and sexuality psychology. THIS DOES NOT, BY ANY MEANS, MEAN I AM THE END ALL BE ALL OF INFO IN THESE SUBJECTS. My experience is my own and I will not gatekeep or instruct people how to think in concerns of these subjects. I am only saying these things simply to assure you that I am valid in my perspective because I am in these communities. Please, don’t think that I want to invalidate anyone or say that I am better than you because I am these things.

Alright, let’s get the ball rolling because I have a lot of feelings and thoughts on a lot of points.

The number one thing that finally set me off to make this post is the absolute WORSHIP of mlm ( male loving male ) ships in the rpc ( and art comm., but this ain’t about them rn ). I have seen, countless times, entire blogs dedicated to shipping male characters to male characters.

Now, initially, this isn’t a problem. Having a male homosexual ship or homosexual male characters is absolutely fine. Peep my blog, I obviously have some. But, it’s the act of taking a character that was originally female, cisbend them to be male, and shipping them with another male character that's the problem. What was wrong with the female character? You kept her personality but made her male? Why? Is it necessary? It’s the same character. If you are uncomfortable writing female-related smut, fade to black. Smut is not necessary if you are truly focused on the essence of this character.

By making this character male, you are essentially saying that the only problem was that she was female. That’s it. That is misogyny. If you are focusing on her as a character, her body shouldn’t matter. As if females equate to their body when sex and gender are two separate things. But, you are bringing females down by getting rid of this one thing. You are telling them they are not good enough. That, maybe, you would like them better if they were the same but male. Am I being extreme about this? Yes. But, I’m trying to drive home my point here.

Another point to make about fetishizing mlm ships is that, even if you state your character is bisexual, pansexual, etc., that does not give you a pass. If your whole blog has characters who want only male partners even if some are stated to be something other than homosexual, you’re fetishizing them. If you put no effort in exploring relationships with females — platonic, romantic, or otherwise — you may as well call them homosexual and call it a day. I’m not here to dictate how you should play your character, but it’s easy to see where your loyalties lie when there is no evidence of female characters on your blog that you’ve interacted with. Actions speak louder than words. Rpc may be made up of words, but make your words take action. Plenty of people complain about their females being ignored. Go help them. Make your characters be friends, enemies, a crime-fighting duo idk. Females exist, don’t act like they don’t.

Oh, and changing a canon mlm ship to a wlw ship by cisbending them doesn’t change things. You’re still saying that those male characters were better than the pre-existing female characters. I would recommend you focus on the actual females of whatever medium you’ve taken these characters from, or create ocs that are genuinely wlw. This is mostly a thing I see in the art community, but I have seen it in the rpc.

We’re going to move on now to some transphobic and trans fetishization, which is fewer and far between. I say a few because I barely see trans characters out there in the community. But, when I do, OH BOY.

Simply stating a character is trans and doing nothing to upkeep what you said does not make your character trans. I’m sorry. Taking a pre-existing character and changing their gender and calling them trans is a sticky situation. I will probably get hate for this, but what are you going to do? It’s Tumblr. I would just prefer to see more original trans characters out there, as if actual thought and development went into their creation.

What I mean by a sticky situation is this, and it goes back to a point I made earlier about cisbending characters to fit mlm ships: if you’re only making a character a transman to make him gay, that's fetishizing both mlm ships and trans people. I’m not saying a transperson can’t be gay and I’m not here to limit diverse characters — this is why I say this is a sticky situation. But, what I am saying is that if you only have muses that are involved in mlm ships and then you add a transmale character to also have an mlm ship based on faceclaims, it’s kinda sus.

Another thing I want to point out is if you are playing a trans character, refer to them by their chosen name and pronouns. You would think this is a no brainer, but you would be surprised. Even if your trans character is closeted, it is your job as the writer to write the correct name and pronouns. Other character interacting with your trans character could use their dead name and wrong pronouns — it makes sense, they don’t know your character is trans if they are closeted and non-passing. But, as you write your character, you and the reader are aware of your character’s true self. Neglecting to reflect your character’s true self through their chosen and name and pronouns is transphobic and harmful. Seeing things like this sends me into a whirlwind of dysphoria.

Changing a pre-existing character to nonbinary rather than cisbending them would be a recommendation from me and some others ( nonbinary individuals ) I’ve talked to. First off, there are very few nonbinary characters in general — media or otherwise. So, taking a pre-existing character and making them nonbinary is a nice thing to see. And, since the character is nonbinary, if they’re in a relationship with a male - the fetishization is redundant.

Now, who do I see making these wacky characters? Mostly cis females and trans men. I think it mostly stems from internalized misogyny as, when growing up, we’ve lived in societies where we are taught men are better than women. It can get to the point where cis females will glorify men so much that they have to have mlm ships. The same can be said for trans men. I’m not saying — as is often used against trans men — that this internalized misogyny / glorification of men has caused them to be trans. Obviously not. But, the internalized misogyny is still there enough to where they may either fear interacting with female characters. It might make them uncomfortable, dysphoric, or they just may think men are better. Women do not deserve to be the catalyst for someone’s discomfort. They are people. They are everywhere. They deserve to be loved. If they make you uncomfortable, if you think you are better than them, if you think men are better, I want you to sit down with yourself and think about this.

When I first realized that I was trans, I had some serious internalized misogyny going on. I would be uncomfortable writing female characters. I would be uncomfortable interacting with them. There was this discomfort that started to manifest in my behaviors and thoughts. Luckily, I had the best person in my life who told me that I was acting misogynistic and I needed to change. Pushing away females was me trying to come to terms with my transness. You don’t need to expel females away from you to imbed in yourself that you are trans. You don’t need to raise yourself above them as men have done for centuries. Do not become part of the problem. Accept the feminine parts of yourself, accept females, and I promise that the fear or resentment you may have with females and female characters will fade away.

Now, with all that being said, my last few words:

Being trans does not give you a pass to do the things I’ve mentioned. Being cis does not give you a pass. Being straight, gay, bi, etc does not give you a pass. If you are a gay man, I understand why you would only have male mlm ships. That doesn’t mean you can’t platonically interact with female characters. We all have made dumb mistakes and judgments in the past. I know for sure I’ve written some pretty cringe stuff in the past. It happens. The best we can do? Learn and take action on what we claim to have learned. Again, actions speak louder than words. Don’t piggy-back on posts that call out people for behavior like this when you participate in some of these behaviors yourself. Just because one person got called out and the spotlight is on them doesn’t mean you’re better than them or that you’ve been given a pass. If you read something like this, reflect on yourself and wonder — objectively — do you do some of these things? You may without realizing it or meaning to. In the end, I’m just a small blog that’s been around for seven years. I think we can get better as a community, but only if we help each other out. This is not a call out post. Call out and cancel culture is gross and counterproductive. I ain’t here for it. Call me out if you want, but what’ll that do? Nothing accept invalidate my opinion.

If you made it this far, I’m sorry. I took up a lot of your time probably. But, I want to thank you so much for reading this. As I said, you may agree, disagree, and not really get what I’m saying. I don’t know what I’m saying half the time either. But, I appreciate you regardless. Please, stay safe and healthy. I hope you have a wonderful year ahead of you.

#indie rp #indie rpc #indie discourse #gingersnaps #idk what to tag so here we are

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ikeservant · 5 years ago

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Hello hope you are doing well!!! Can I ask for hc for Kenshin, Ieyasu, and Hideyoshi (or anyone else you want) discovering that MC is a hardcore otaku who thirsts over anime/otome boys😂😂? Maybe Sasuke gotta help explain to the warlords what even anime/otome is XD Thank you all the time I love your stuff!!!

Ahh thank you so much!I love this prompt lol! I’m dummy weak thinking about a bunch of 1500s warlords finding out in the future that people write headcanons/fanfics/fanart of them dream about fictional dudes. I’m people 😂. Also put what genre/type of anime they’d be into if they were able to be introduced to anime and manga.

Kenshin: Probably thought that Sasuke and MC were siblings because of her using similar weird words and fangirling during the weirdest times. Sasuke would explain to him how from their time that stories and tales were widespread and had vivid illustrations that people would gather around and develop a fanbase. Would be very confused to see keychains and anime merch from MC’s bag from the future. When he asked why there were decorations of 2D men, MC excitedly explained how they were all “best boys” and tell their stories and tales, meanwhile Kenshin was glaring daggers at these fictional men that pose a threat. “Kenshin your yandere side is showing. You are the bestest boy and you’re the only one I want to wifey up.” He’ll have to ask Sasuke what half of that sentence meant, but he was pleased that he was the 3D man that she chose. If MC could bring back some manga/anime for Kenshin, he’d be in love with any war/gore and action based ones. Not necessarily for characters but how cool the action and fight scenes are and wants to try them out with Sasuke (run Sasuke).

Ieyasu: Was very confused when they first met and MC was very eager and pushy to get to know him better. “Why are you following me, you weakling?” “I know you’re a tsundere. You’re hard on the outside but gooey on the inside. I’ve played so many routes with tsunderes that I shall uncover you in no time. Just like the simulations!” *cue Ieyasu thinking MC is absolutely insane and going the complete opposite direction*. Eventually MC grew on him and he did end up softening up and falling in love (JUST LIKE THE SIMULATIONS! SCORE FOR MC). Would find a lot of the terminology MC uses weird but still made him want to learn what it meant. Did not know what “I ship it” meant when MC chuckled that when he started complaining about Mitsunari, but rest assured will gag when he finds out. Startles MC when they’re laying in bed and he says “I.. ship us.” awkwardly trying to use her weeb terminology, earning a kiss for this cute tsundere 😉. If MC could bring back some manga/anime, he’d be very intrigued with complex characters and plots that have both dark and light elements and have an overall empowering message. Relates to characters that have a tragic backstory but endure and grow stronger and roots for them in the end. (Might imagine MC as the love interest but don’t tell MC that)

Hideyoshi: Now the first thing coming out of MC’s mouth when he decided to trust her and smile at MC while offering to be friends and help carry the vase she was carrying was “A-am I witnessing gap moe in real life?” with a look of utter awe. This confused the heck out of him, “M-my name’s Hideyoshi. Who’s Gap-Moe?” Eventually would get used to the random terminology, although very confused. When he saw the anime themed keychains and wallet in MC’s purse and asked about it, he should’ve prepared tea because that was a looong lecture that he understood nothing of but found it adorable how excited MC was talking about it. “Wait so what are fangirls?” “You know those girls in town that rush to you and gush over you? Those are fangirls. My fangirl group just goes after fictional guys.”, making him confused even more while also lowkey wishing MC was his fangirl and wondering if he is a fanboy for MC (spoiler alert: he IS. And he’s a fanboy for Nobunga). Made him realize how much MC made his kokoro go doki doki (this is the most otaku trash phrase I’ve ever said). If MC could bring manga/anime, he’d love anime where good trumps evil and heroes defeat villains because he loves imagining defeating injustice and having a happy ending for Japan while defeating the cruel enemies and rivals around Nobunga. Also loves emotional/heart wrenching love story manga and anime that make you cry and get hit hard in the feels with the characters b/c he’s such a romantic with a big heart. Would hug the hell out of MC after finishing of any of those types of series while saying that he will always love her‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

Bonuses b/c I thought they’d be fun:

Shingen: Literally finds anything about MC fascinating, and the fact that they’re passionate about fictional stories and are so emotionally touched by them made him love that MC had a big heart, even for fictional characters. Gets a lil jealous when MC starts fawning over specific fictional dudes. When MC and Shingen are a couple and she starts talking about one of her fictional baes he’d probably literally sweep her off her feet and say something cheesy like “But can he do this” and swoop in for dat kiss. Would probably find his own meaning in the terminology and use it. “This is my waifu, my goddess, I am her biggest fanboy.” is how he’d probably introduce MC as (swoon). If MC could bring manga/anime, he’d be a hardcore sucker for romance anime and would reenact many of the romantic scenes, even the confession scenes. “Shingen we’re married. This is the 45th time you’ve confessed to me.” “But not like from this anime (´•ω•̥`). Would also like detective/mystery series bc he likes unraveling mysteries and plays behind the scenes.

Yukimura: “Not another Sasuke-speaker.” Would be hanging out with MC and Sasuke and listening to the weird terminologies. Would also probably make fun of MC at first for her fantasizing about fictional men and having merch of them saying “Is that cuz you can’t get a real life man?” (cue the heated arguing). Would eventually be intrigued by some of the story plots MC tells him and would eventually fall for her nerdiness and everything. Would ask Sasuke for help on coming up how to confess to MC like in the anime and otome games she talks about (A for effort, my boy). Would be a blushy puddle but puff his chest out if MC fangirled over him. If MC could bring anime and manga, he’d freaking LOVE superhero anime bc he just wants to save everyone and do whats right and he just looks like the type of dude that loves superheroes and superpowers and gets pumped when the hero defeats the bad guy.

Mitsuhide: Would be curious about these strange, foreign words MC says, even though its just fangirl lingo from 500 years in the future. Would probably tease MC if they had any keychains or small merch of anime characters. “Why have a pocket-sized man to love if there’s a full sized one right here.” 😉. Would find it very creative that there’s so many diverse stories and characters. Loves when MC gets excited talking about story plots, gets a lil jealous and tries steering the topic away from thirsting over the dudes. Would probably confess his feelings by saying “Is there a real life story about a kitsune falling for a foolish mouse and they become lovers for eternity?” “Not that I know of.” “Want to make that story happen?”. Would love speaking modern slang and otaku terms with MC because its like their own little love language and it also pisses Hideyoshi off since he doesn’t understand wtf they’re saying. If MC brought manga/anime, would love psychological based horror, seeing how characters react to scary situations and what’s the mental breaking point to madness, or plots with mind games and outwitting opponents bc he’s all about that big brain and likes seeing characters creatively outsmart enemies. Likes characters that are morally gray/antihero that do good but do so in unorthodox ways bc he relates to them (and is secretly smug if MC says they need more love bc it feels like she’s saying that about him too). Likes stories w/ bittersweet endings because he likes seeing the beauty in things while acknowledging the harshness and cruelty of life as well.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen headcanon #ikesen hc

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ashtheshortstack · 4 years ago

Text

take my scars & make them stars - epilogue

Rating: M Ship: Kristoff/Anna epilogue

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sick Fic, Cancer Fic, Chronic Illness, Chemotherapy, Modern AU, Coffee Shop AU, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Mentions of Character Death

Read on Ao3

Previous Chapter

Anna never thought there’d be a day that she’d see Kristoff in pink, but it wasn’t a bad look on him at all. She really appreciated him coming to the Breast Cancer 5k Run to support her. Of course, Elsa and Gerda had accompanied them too.

While Elsa and Kristoff only wore their matching t-shirts and running gear (which were Anna’s idea--Gerda wasn’t running so she didn’t need one, but she did wear her own pink top in support), Anna wore a pink tutu, pink socks, and a bright pink bow in her curly, bobbed auburn strands. She was quite proud of her decked out pink ensemble. Kristoff also called her cute, so that was even more of a win in Anna’s book.

Anna wanted pictures before the three of them got super gross and sweaty from running, and Gerda happily obliged her when she hooked arms with her sister and boyfriend and forced them to pose with her. Neither seemed to complain, though, which she was thankful for. When Gerda handed her the phone back, Anna was thrilled to see how well the photo turned out. In fact, she was even tempted to post it. She hadn’t posted on any social media in ages, aside from private stories on Snapchat. But she figured… maybe it was time. Maybe, it was finally time to come out with everything she’d been through. The photo itself was very telling. Each shirt had its own message: Elsa’s read “I run for my sister,” Kristoff’s: “I run for my girlfriend” (which Anna loved ) and Anna’s read: “I run for ME.” And damn, she meant it.

She hadn’t been very vocal about her break up with Hans… but better late than never, right? Besides, maybe it was time to show off her new man. Her shiny, new upgrade, she mused to herself.

Kristoff hadn’t posted anything about their relationship either. He told her he’d wait until she was ready to make the information public. Even telling her he wouldn’t tell his family either, but Anna didn’t feel that was fair and encouraged him to be honest with his parents. Including the cancer.

Apparently, Bulda was very insistent on meeting her soon. Her boyfriend explained that his parents had moved out of Arendelle to Rock Valley right after he graduated, but he opted to stay in the area. She could understand that considering what the family had been through. So, they’d decided they’d make a weekend out of it soon and drive up to his parents’ house in the next few weeks. Anna would be lying if she wasn’t nervous--but also extremely excited. Meeting the Bjorgmans would be a wonderful experience, she was sure. But at the same time, she didn’t want to bring up anything she shouldn’t. She didn’t want to be a reminder of what they’d lost… Kristoff had assured her that wouldn’t be the case. But… she still had her doubts.

After smiling down at the photo on her phone, she held it up for her boyfriend and sister to view. Elsa gasped and grinned. “Anna! I love it! Please, send that to me. We need it framed.”

Anna snorted at that. “Is… Is it okay if I post it?”

Her companions all looked surprised at the question. Kristoff tilted his head. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “I think it’s time to stop hiding from the world.”

Elsa wasn’t one to be super emotional. Not since their parents closed her off from the world and forced her to be cold. But when her eyes became glassy, Anna worried she’d said the wrong thing. Quickly, her sister grabbed her hand. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Smiling, Anna nodded and logged in for the first time in forever. She decided that going through and deleting pictures of her and Hans would be the next thing she did. Like the picture of their proposal… yeah, that’d need to go.

But, that was not the time to think of that. The run would start any moment.

Anna walked with race--with an occasional jog her and there--since her endurance still wasn’t quite built back up. She encouraged Elsa to really go for it (her sister had a bit of competitive spirit), and while the flaxen blonde originally seemed hesitant, eventually she decided to go for it in a full out sprint. Kristoff stayed by Anna’s side, holding her hand through most of it.

Elsa and Gerda were waiting for them at the finish line.

o~o~o~o

Meeting Bulda and Cliff went better than Anna expected. It was like meeting the parents she’d never had. Doting, kind parents that truly cared every bit for their children. Anna couldn’t help but imagine how different her life could’ve been if her parents had been the same. But she knew it’d be wasting time to dwell on such things. Her parents were gone, and she couldn’t change that. Couldn’t change them… or who they were.

“Oh, hun… Kristoff obviously isn’t cooking enough for you. You’re so skinny.”

Kristoff hissed at her. “Ma, she hasn’t even been done with chemo a year yet. Chill out.”

Anna felt an inward of panic at the mention of chemotherapy. Would that be an upsetting topic for them? She didn’t want to remind them of their traumatic experiences. She didn’t know what it was like to lose a child to cancer, but she did know that she’d lost her parents. And how that felt…

But Bulda brushed off Kristoff’s comment. “You better be taking care of her!”

“Mom!”

Giggling behind her hand, she watched the exchange of Kristoff bickering with his mother. At one point, Bulda smacked his hand with a spatula when he commented on the amount of spices she put in the dinner she was making. Anna had never seen her burly boyfriend yelp and cower like that, but it amused her more than she’d let him know.

Apparently, she needed to invest in a spatula.

When they sat at the small table for four, Anna couldn’t help but wonder if the seat she sat in had once been meant for Pepper. Swallowing thickly, she picked at the spaghetti before her. There was a ridiculous amount of food on the plate in front of her. It seemed maybe there was more on her plate than the rest… it seemed Bulda was serious about fattening her up. If this is how Kristoff grew up eating, it’s no wonder he ended up being so thick.

He glanced at her, brows pinching in a silent question. Bulda and Cliff were chatting about their work days, not seeming to notice their son paying them no attention. But Anna just smiled to reassure him and scarfed some noodles into her mouth so as to not worry him further.

Dinner wasn’t awkward by any means. Bulda made conversation rather easily. She asked about her family, mainly Elsa, seeming to evade the topic of her parents. That was probably Kristoff’s doing.

Eventually, Bulda smiled at her. “Anna, would you care to help me with the dishes?”

Blinking, she nodded. “Oh, yes ma’am, of course.”

Kristoff gaped at her. “Mom, she’s a guest she shouldn’t--”

Bulda gave him a look , and the blond’s mouth snapped shut.

Cliff and his son ended up on the back porch, despite how worried Kristoff looked leaving her behind. But Bulda just shooed him, apparently eager to have Anna to herself. As his mother began placing the dishes in one side of the sink, she shook her head with sigh before giving Anna a smile.

“That boy is so protective of you, I swear. You’ll have to tell him you’re a big girl,” she said with a chuckle.

Anna smiled. She wouldn’t admit aloud that she really did enjoy how Kristoff could be overbearing at times. At first, she was a bit weirded out, but as time went on… she realized how much she craved that attention. It was something she hadn’t gotten from her parents, or even Hans for that matter, so a little bit of overprotection wasn’t too bad. Kristoff wasn’t overly possessive or anything, just a healthy enough amount to fret over her.

When Anna didn’t speak, Bulda continued on. “He was the same way with his sister. It’s just instinct for him,” she explained as she ran the water. “Could you dry these for me? If it hurts, just say so.”

Nodding, she agreed. “I can do it.” She was mostly telling the truth. The feeling in her fingers had returned. It was only sometimes when she did really tedious tasks would the painful tingles return to her joints and fingertips.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to be ashamed around us. Or feel like you need to walk on eggshells for us. We lost our daughter, but we can talk about it. It’s alright.”

As Anna dried a dish, she pursed her lips and looked away. “A-Are you sure?”

“Of course, dear. If we don’t talk about her, she’ll fade away. It’s okay to talk about the good and the bad. Acceptance is how you heal. We can’t avoid what happened.”

Chest tight, she nodded. “You’re right. F-From what Kristoff had told me, she was a really sweet girl.”

“Oh, she was a good girl. Could be a little devious sometimes, but it was just cause she wanted his attention. Kristoff was so much older than her, sometimes I worried they wouldn’t be close. They were definitely siblings… picking on each other all the time. But she adored him, and he adored her.”

Anna hummed. “I feel the same about my sister. We didn’t really get to grow up together, but now that we’ve become close, it’s a bond I wish I’d gotten to experience sooner.”

Bulda handed her another dish. “Kristoff told me a little about your family. Not much, though. But I won’t pry. I’m sorry to hear that you and your sister have gone through a lot.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me be honest with you, dear… Never feel guilty for surviving. Just because others didn’t, doesn’t mean you should be ashamed that you did. Always remember that. You deserve to love and live life. Kristoff has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.”

Anna took those words to heart, filing them away to hold onto forever. Bulda was right…

It was okay to live.

o~o~o~o

Anna sat in his lap, her lips on his as they pressed their bare chests together. Kristoff’s fingers twined into her auburn locks with a gentle tug. She had no idea that hair pulling was a thing she liked, but since her hair had grown out they both discovered something new about her. Kristoff seemed to enjoy it… he’d give her hair a small yank at random times just to fluster her, and it often worked.

But she stopped him, pulling her mouth away from his. Anna glanced down between them, gazing over her body. The marks and scars, the many freckles and bumps…

“Anna?”

Her eyes met his. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Blinking, his brows furrowed. “Okay…?”

She didn’t want to worry him. Not really. But this was something she’d been avoiding since they’d started dating. And, especially now that they were intimate, it needed to be discussed.

“I-I don’t know if we need condoms or not.”

“...Huh?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Anna wanted to smack herself. What a stupid thing to say. A horrible way to go about this. Damn, she was an idiot.

“I mean… I don’t know if I can have kids.”

“Oh.”

Fidgeting with her thumbs, she vaguely realized that this was a really uncomfortable position to be in while bringing this up. They were both topless, his cheeks were flushed with kiss swollen lips, there was a very clear bulge pressing against her through his jeans. But she couldn’t let this go on. Not without telling him.

“Dr. Mattias said there was a chance that the chemo could make me infertile. I-I haven’t exactly asked him about checking up with that. So, I don’t know if I can even get pregnant naturally.”

Kristoff nodded. “Anna… I want a family someday,” her heart dropped, “but only if it’s with you.”

Jaw dropping, she couldn’t help but feel stunned at his admission. “W-Wait, really?”

“I love you. There’s no one else I’d rather have a family with. Look, I was adopted, so I don’t have any qualms with doing the same.”

“I-I mean, we may not have to. But I’m glad you’re open to the idea. A-After Dr. Mattias told me about the risks, I did have some of my eggs frozen. B-But there’s no guarantee that it could work, a-and I don’t have boobs and that might cause problems, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up or anything or--”

Kristoff pressed his lips to hers, effectively shutting up her. “I want you , Anna Anderson. No matter what that entails. Whether we have children of our own or not someday, I don’t care. As long as you’re the one with me.”

A girlish giggle bubbled past her lips.

“But uh--” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t mind finding out if condoms are a necessity or not because, ya know, I wouldn’t mind… going without?”

Smirking, she simply pushed him down on the mattress.

When Anna woke, bare aside from the sheets covering her skin, she was alone. Kristoff had to be at the jobsite at 6:00AM where he’d work a few hours before heading to the coffee shop. It was nice that both bosses were accommodating him as he adjusted. It was strange thinking about the fact that Kristoff would no longer be the first face she saw when she entered Arendelle Roasts. Oaken was kind enough to allow Kristoff to make his own schedule for his last two weeks. Ama was proud that he would be turning to construction full time after working so hard to learn the ropes.

It did suck to know he would rarely be beside her in the mornings, but when she started her classes at AU then maybe they could share a breakfast since she had to be up anyway.

Rolling over to check the time, Anna laughed at the sight of a chocolate chip muffin sitting on the nightstand waiting for her.

o~o~o~o

The bell chimed as someone entered the door. Anna glanced up from her spot behind the counter, smiling when she saw Kristoff walking towards her.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer,” she cooed.

The blond snorted at her. “Pretty sure you stole my line.”

Anna hummed, a mused tone in her voice. “Nope. Can’t be your line if I’m the one working here now.”

“Because you stole my job.”

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “I was hired here, thank you. Now, do you want a Maple Harvest or not?”

Beaming, he leaned on the counter. She was thankful it was closing time and there were only two other customers finishing up their cups, so Kristoff heckling her at the counter wouldn’t get her in very much trouble. “Already got my coffee memorized?” he teased.

“Don’t act like you didn’t memorize Elsa’s drink.”

“That’s because you always ordered it as an excuse to talk to me.”

“Lies,” she snapped while biting back a smile. Yeah, he was right. But oh, she would never give him the satisfaction.

Anna went to the machine to begin his order. Ryder peaked around and smirked at her. “You know, I thought you two would get tired of flirting eventually.”

Laughing, she shook her head. “You should know both of us better by now.”

“Touche.”

When Anna returned to the counter, Kristoff was ready with money in hand. She looked between him and the cash before tilting her head with a knowing smile. “It’s on the house.”

“Anna…”

“It’s on the house,” she repeated as she wrote on the cup.

After she handed it over, Kristoff gave her a flat look when he saw that she’d written “Christopher” on his drink. “Why do you torture me?” he grumbled.

“Because I love you.”

She really did.

#kristanna #kristoff x anna #the queen & her reindeer king #ash writes #frozen fic #anna x kristoff #kristanna fic #tw: cancer #tw: character death #cancer fic #angst #hurt/comfort #mentions of chemotherapy #tms&mts #take my scars & make them stars

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