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soulmate-game · 4 years ago

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Maribat March 2021 @maribatmarch-2k21

Day 1: Found Family

“Ah! Bonjour!” A cheery voice called, as a short Eurasian girl bound over to the unfairly intimidating mob of tall people with sharp eyes. Chloe had called in a favor. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloe told me that your tour guide cancelled at the last minute, so she blackmail—sorry, begged me to fill in for them. You are the Wayne’s, non?”

The one at the front of the group, clearly Bruce Wayne since Marinette didn’t live under a rock and had seen the man on several American news broadcasts before, nodded and cleared his throat. Man, was he intimidating. Even when he shot her a dazzling smile that was sure to blind Paparazzi with fake cheer. It was a nice smile, Marinette wasn’t about to deny. But it was empty. Distant. And Marinette wasn’t going to buy it for a second.

“Yes, that’s us. Mademoiselle Bourgeois mentioned she had asked a close friend of hers to take care of our tour.”

Marinette nodded again, clasping her hands behind her back. “I guarantee, you won’t miss anything the tour guide would have shown you. In fact, Chloe mentioned that you all were very curious about the now retired Parisian heroes, right? My former best friend ran the Ladyblog back when they were active. I am more than confident that I can answer any questions you have while we go through the city.”

A boy with a white streak in his hair rose his hand, as if he was in a class and needed to wait to be called on. Which, considering the sheer size of their family, Marinette was actually grateful for. But damn, this was another imposing figure. Slightly taller than even the six-foot-three-inches that Bruce Wayne owned, he was solidly built and rocked a brown leather jacket and ripped black jeans. Marinette smiled and nodded for him to speak.

“How old are you? Because I don’t know if twelve year olds are allowed to do guided tours,” there was an obvious tease in his voice, but there was also legitimate concern in his blue-green eyes. Marinette almost missed that concern amid her quickly building annoyance. She even felt her eyes twitch.

“I’m turning eighteen in a few months if you need to know, Monsieur,” she evened out the bite in her voice with an overly sweet smile. “And if you want to get lost and possibly pickpocketed in the busy streets of Paris, then please continue to make comments on my height. If not, we can begin our tour and you might even enjoy it.”

Several Wayne’s snickered at her comeback, one man in particular elbowing the white haired gentleman with a little too much glee. Even the stoic Bruce laughed softly, and a boy with enough bags under his eyes to make the airport jealous nearly fell over himself with his suppressed laughter.

The man himself just snorted, sending her a lopsided smirk that oddly radiated approval. It was almost as if she had passed some sort of test.

“My name’s Jason, Pixie. You already know B. The guy trying to break my ribs,” he pointedly shoved off the one who had elbowed him, “is Dick. He’s Bruce’s first adoptive casualty. The one that looks like a zombie is Tim, we might need to take a break to get him more coffee before he passes out halfway through. The one who hasn’t stopped glaring at you is Damian, the badass redhead is Barbara but we all call her Babs. The annoying blonde is Stephany, the other cool badass over there is Cass. She doesn’t talk much. And the one trying to pretend he doesn’t know us is Duke.”

Each member he introduced gave her a little wave or nod. Even Damian managed a short nod of acknowledgement before resuming his glare. He looked to be a couple years younger than her, so she just brushed it off as teenage drama.

“Alright then! It is very nice to meet you all. Now, Chloe did inform me that you guys are very multilingual, which is another reason she asked me instead of one of our other friends. If you ever need it, I obviously am fluent in both French and English. But added to that, I am fluent in Cantonese, Mandarin, Italian, and I know basic survival Japanese. I also know French Sign Language, though I’m not sure if that’s very useful for you unfortunately. If you ever need to communicate non-verbally, I will do my best to accommodate that. Now, I believe you guys were scheduled to start the tour with a visit to the Louvre, non? Right this way.”

As Marinette led the large group out of the Grand Paris, they didn’t bother taking time to admire the sights before asking questions.

“Have you ever met one of the heroes?” Dick, who might have been shorter than Jason and Bruce but was muscular enough to still inspire caution (and admiration), asked. His blue eyes seemingly stared right through Marinette as he continued; “If you’re almost eighteen, then they must have been active through a lot of your school career.”

Marinette smiled. “They did only retire last year,” she agreed with a nod. “Yes, I have met all of the Parisian heroes at least once,” she snorted at a stray thought. “In fact, I met Chat Noir quite a lot. You see, my old College was basically ground zero for a lot of akuma attacks. And by a lot, I mean a majority of them,” she shook her head before pausing to get everyone to cross a street. “After a while, Chat Noir started calling me ‘princess’ to make fun of how often he had to save me. He’s an annoying ass.”

Despite her words, everyone behind her could easily hear the fondness there. They all traded glances. What if this was a Lois and SuperMan situation? Regardless, they all had a suspicion that Marinette knew more about the heroes than she let on. Or, at least more about Chat Noir.

“When you say that your school was a hotspot for Akuma attacks,” Bruce spoke up cautiously, his Dad Senses going haywire. He didn’t like how nonchalantly she had said it— she was far too casual. Sure enough, he watched as the muscles between her shoulders stiffened slightly at the conversation change. “What do you mean? Surely it couldn’t have been that bad if the school is still around.”

Marinette sucked her teeth, grimacing. “The school is still there, yeah, but only because of Ladybug’s ability. You’ve heard about the Cure, right?” It was Tim who answered her;

“Yeah. It fixed the damage done during a fight, right?” He asked, tilting his head a little. Marinette ignored her brief thought that the gesture made him look like a curious puppy. She sighed.

“Yeah. But when they say damage, they mean everything. Injuries, collateral. Death,” she said the last example darkly, far too much weight behind the word for it to be meaningless. She heard Jason hiss in sympathy. “But there are good things. The Cure also erased anyone’s memories of dying besides the vague knowledge that it did happen, so there isn’t much trauma there to unpack. Not as much as there could have been anyway,” she assured them. “And I’m one of the lucky ones. I never died, and I was never Akumatized.”

“Hmph,” Damian’s voice cut through the brief silence that followed her admission. She looked back at him to see his sharp green eyes staring right into her. “You don’t honestly believe that’s lucky.” It wasn’t a question. Marinette clenched her jaw, turning around and ignoring him.

Because, no. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t lucky that she was the only one that remembered everything— all of the deaths, all of the Akumatizations, everything that others mercifully forgot. Since she lived through all of it, she remembered all of it. And survivor’s guilt is nothing to scoff at.

But she wasn’t about to reveal her trauma, or at the very least the full scope of it, to people she had just met and was leading on a tour.

“If you look to the left, you’ll see a statue that was made depicting Ladybug and Chat Noir back during the first years of their activity,” she suddenly told them, gesturing to the still-standing statue. Nobody missed the obvious topic change, but nobody commented on it either. Turns out the statue was something they had been looking forward to seeing in person, Tim even went up to take a few photos with his camera. Barbara took a few circles around the statue, easily pivoting her wheelchair around it as if she was trying to see every angle and imperfection possible. Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight.

“Your family are pretty big fans, huh?” She asked Cass and Duke, the only ones that had stayed back with her. Duke snorted, and Cass gave her a small grin.

“They like to keep up to date with all the heroes,” Duke answered with a shrug. “Since we’re so high profile, it isn’t weird for us to be saved by one here or there even when we’re away from Gotham.”

Marinette just gave him an odd look, furrowing her brows. “But the Miraculous team has been disbanded since HawkMoth was defeated,” she reminded them. “There’s no need for them to save anybody anymore.”

“Old habits,” Cass spoke up softly, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes locked with Marinette’s. “Not easy to break.”

The smaller woman had a feeling that Cass wasn’t talking about her family’s habit of keeping up to date on heroes.

“Alright! We need to head to the next stop or we might not have time to see everything!”

The tour went pretty similarly. The walks between stops were pleasant, and filled with questions about the period of time where HawkMoth was active. Marinette wasn’t even the least bit surprised nor put off; everyone was curious about those years now that the tourism restriction was lifted and people could ask freely about it. Besides the many questions about the Heroes, Marinette found the group to be very pleasant company. They were polite, but also rowdy in a very endearing way. She caught a lot of inside jokes they had with each other, and a lot of good natured teasing and fighting. They even managed to rope her into it somehow, and she found herself snidely teasing Damian or casually threatening Tim with not allowing them a coffee break. She even got to ride on Jason’s shoulders for a bit after he made another comment on her height that she Did Not Appreciate. But the ride she got made it worth it.

But soon the sun was high in the sky, and it was about time for them to take a lunch break. They had all been walking for hours with only a few chances to rest, and honestly Marinette was impressed that none of them seemed too tired out by it.

“Alright,” she put her hands on her hips proudly. “Since some of you won’t stop whining about needing coffee or being hungry— Dick, don’t you dare buy anything from that vendor! I’m gonna lead you all to my parent’s bakery so we can have lunch and caffeinate all of you. And conveniently enough,” she smiled widely. “The bakery is right across the street from my old College! So you’ll be able to get a look at where the majority of Akuma attacks happened, and maybe I can tell you a few specific stories if you want,” she offered. There were a couple cheers (Tim and Dick) from the crowd and everyone seemed pretty pleased with the next step in their tour. Smiling, Marinette turned and began to lead them in the direction of her home.

Sirens blared, a fire truck zooming down the street next to them.

Headed in the same direction.

Marinette frowned, watching it go. “That’s weird. I hope everyone’s okay, whatever happened,” she mused idly. But as they kept going forward, the sirens didn’t get any softer. If anything, they started getting louder again after a while. Marinette was visibly concerned by then, her pace picking up. “This is my neighborhood,” she told the solemn group behind her. “I know everyone on this street—“ they rounded the corner, and Marinette stopped in her tracks. Her world ground to a halt.

There was the fire truck, stopped right in front of her bakery.

Which was completely ablaze.

A string of curses flew out of her mouth, the little Eurasian wasting no more time before sprinting towards the building. She could hear people yelling at her to wait, slow down, stop! But she ignored them. The only thing on her mind was that her home was on fire.

“Marinette! Wait!” Dick reached out to grab her arm, but like a snake Marinette easily slipped out of his grip and continued forward. Steph was next, deciding to just tackle Marinette— to no avail. The Parisian just shouldered the bigger woman off of her with pure adrenaline fueling her muscles, and everyone else knew by then that they could not stop her. The Wayne’s decided all they could do was jog behind Marinette, keeping her in sight as they tried to gauge the damage.

“The top floors don’t look like they have even been touched by the fire yet,” Tim whispered, though his eyes flew between the building and their tour guide. Marinette was speaking rapidly with a firefighter that wasn’t immediately busy, trying to get information. But before anyone could decipher what was said, Marinette tore a large strip off the bottom of her shirt and tied it in a hasty mask around her mouth.

“Wait!” Bruce was the first to realize what was happening, with his years of experience with self sacrificing children and their stupid stunts. But Marinette managed to kick him away before he could grab her, dashing into the inferno without paying any heed to the many protests that followed her.

The group of Gothamites could do nothing but watch the flaming building, then. If they went inside, it would only overcrowd a hazardous area. Minutes passed, and there was movement in the fire. Out of the doorway came Marinette and a firefighter, both having to work together to carry the body of a large man outside. The sight of the man made the Gotham family blink— he was as big as Bane! And that was nothing to scoff at. But despite his unusual size and muscle mass, the man had all the signs of being a normal civilian.

Marinette didn’t stop there. She ran back in. Coming out a lot more quickly this time with a barely conscious Asian woman— everyone saw the resemblance between her and this new woman immediately.

It had to be her mother.

“Shit,” Duke hissed. Nobody else could say a word. It wasn’t looking good, and this wasn’t a situation where random vigilantes showing up out of nowhere could actually help. Not this late into the fire. Bruce’s hands curled into fists.

The woman that everyone guessed was Marinette’s mother was suddenly struck by lucidity; she gasped and grabbed at Marinette’s hand without seeming to see who she was even talking to. A single word that none of the Waynes could hear left her throat, and judging by Marinette’s returning panic it hadn’t been good.

She rushed right back into the building, and came back out with the last firefighter who had been searching inside.

Marinette carried a child. She screamed out in panicked French;

“She’s not breathing! I need first aid now!”

That was their cue. The firefighters started their hoses, focusing on getting rid of the flames now that nobody was left inside the building. Bruce and Damian got to Marinette first, and this time she listened as they instructed her to set the child down. Damian, being smaller and having more hands-on medical knowledge, took charge of the resuscitation. Marinette sat there silently, eyes riveted to the small child— a girl.

But Marinette wasn’t reacting like a normal civilian to tragedy. She was eerily calm, eyes focused and barely concealing a terrible rage. She took over chest compressions when Damian started to lose momentum, not giving up.

But then the EMTs arrived, and it was only five minutes with the child hooked onto oxygen that the news arrived—

Marinette heard the monitors on the ambulance flatline before she even registered what people were trying to tell her. Manon. Manon was—

Marinette didn’t register Nadya Chammack at first. She was just another body in the quickly growing sea of them. That is, until she heard Nadya’s pained shriek. A mother who had just lost her baby girl.

“Perhaps we should head back,” Bruce offered softly, giving Marinette space but keeping a keen eye on her. He saw her begin to tremble, then shake. He was pretty sure he could hear the grinding of her teeth for a second before she went still. Just… all movement stopped, the tears that had been building just falling silently for a second before they ended.

And he recognized that carefully practiced emptiness in her bluebell eyes. The same emptiness he had seen in Damian’s eyes when he had first arrived at the Manor. The same emptiness he saw in Dick’s eyes in the days following his parent’s deaths.

The same emptiness he saw in the mirror, every time he had another nightmare about the day Jason had been taken from him, years ago.

Suddenly he could imagine all too well exactly what kind of strength she had to have, to avoid her negative emotions ever being used against her during Hawkmoth’s reign. Especially if she had constantly been dealing with her friends and family being Akumatized and/or dying on multiple occasions.

She didn’t even seem to have heard him. Bruce sighed.

“I called Chloe,” Barbara informed everyone solemnly, holding up her phone for emphasis. “She’ll be here in five.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Chloe hadn’t come alone. With her had been Adrien Agreste, former model when his father hadn’t been… well, in prison. Nowadays he was just a normal student who occasionally gave lectures on neglect and child abuse, and how to help children in those situations.

And, apparently, he was also Marinette’s closest friend. Even more so than Chloe. As soon as they arrived back at the Grand Paris, Chloe herded everyone up into her suite and she and Adrien surrounded Marinette with pillows and blankets. Adrien curled around Marinette like an affectionate cat, and Damien even swore he heard the guy purr at some point

“We should probably leave,” Bruce whispered to their hostess, who looked inbetween him and her friends for a moment before jerking her head towards the door.

“I wanna talk to you first,” Chloe whispered back. Once they all filed out into the hallway and the door was safely closed, Chloe took a breath. “First, I want to tell you that I got a call from the hospital. Marinette’s father is stable, but in a coma right now.”

“Is that the man who looked like he could bench press a car for fun?” Dick asked, earning a weak grin from the Bourgeois heiress.

“Yeah, that’s him. But…” Chloe’s face fell, and she looked around as if to double check nobody was eavesdropping. She still lowered her voice anyway. “Her mother, Sabine. She…” Chloe swallowed a lump in her throat, images of the extremely kind Chinese woman flashing through her mind without permission. “She didn’t make it.”

Several people took a sharp breath, acknowledging everything that had gone so wrong for Marinette on a day that had started so perfectly.

“The smoke?” Cass asked gently, but Chloe winced and shifted on her feet.

“No. They… there were rope marks on Sabine’s neck,” Chloe clenched her eyes shut at the admission. “Marinette’s dad might be big, but he’s not a fighter. Sabine, though… Sabine was. She was raised in a martial arts family back in China. I’ve seen Sabine take down five men at once, all twice her size,” Chloe kicked her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “Somebody knew… somebody knew that the little Chinese woman was a threat but the big baker with tons of muscle was harmless.”

Nobody took that well. Not only had Marinette just lost her home and half of her family, but her father was in a coma and it had all been foul play.

“Okay,” Bruce nodded once the news had time to sink in. They could help with this; this was their specialty. They might have only known Marinette for six hours, but she had made a big impression. It wasn’t just anybody that could mesh with his family so seamlessly in that short span of time. “Is there anything else?”

“I want you to get temporary custody of her,” Chloe said it the way only Chloe Bourgeois could. With her back straight, chin high, and the tone of a woman who expected to be listened to or else she’d make life Hell for the person that didn’t take her seriously. Bruce could only blink.

“Can I ask for your reasoning?”

“Marinette has been closing herself off more and more over the years,” Chloe admitted. “Hawkmoth’s reign was hard on her. Only Adrien really knows everything she went through during those years. But even after the disbanding of the team, she hasn’t… she hasn’t allowed herself to get close to anybody new. That’s why I tricked her into doing your tour. She needed to socialize with new people, and if she wouldn’t do it herself then I had to pull some strings.”

A few eyebrows raised at the admission that Chloe had fully planned for Marinette to be their tour guide the whole time. It honestly seemed like the kind of well meaning manipulation that one of them would try to pull off.

“She likes you,” Chloe’s voice went soft again, showing how uncharacteristically serious she was about that fact. “She was comfortable enough to let you guys carry her back here. To let you try to help Manon. That might not seem like a big deal to you, but it says a lot to me and Adrien. And… getting her away from Paris for a while is probably a good idea. She was planning to go to Gotham for university anyway.”

The Waynes traded glances before Bruce crosses his arms and asked some more questions first. Doesn’t Marinette have other family? Answer; only her grandmother, who travels all the time and nobody ever knows where she is until she shows up. Bruce agreed that Gina Dupain didn’t exactly seem like a good candidate for Marinette’s new guardian with that description. But finally, to none of his children's surprise, he did end up agreeing.

“But,” he held up a single finger. “We’ll Wait here in Paris for a week, so that she can try to salvage everything she can from her house and so we can get an idea on how her father is doing. There’s still a chance he’ll come out of his coma fairly quickly. And of course, we will only go through with this if Marinette agrees when we ask her tomorrow.”

Chloe agreed to those terms, looking like a weight had been lifted off of her.

Chloe never cut corners when taking care of her hive. And if that meant making sure that her brave soldier bee could move on to start a new hive, one that was better equipped to take care of her, then Chloe would do everything she could to help that move. And really; Chloe was far more resourceful and observant than people gave her credit for. The butts definitely matched, and Bruce Wayne was her last hope to get Marinette the support she needed. Outside of Adrien, anyway.

Chloe took a breath, watching the Waynes trickle off into their own rooms. Marinette was like the little sister she never wanted, but grew to love more than anything. Though, Chloe knew she really chose Marinette as her sister the same way they both chose Adrien as their brother. She just didn’t want to admit she was sentimental like that. But Chloe knew that someone like Marinette needed a bigger family. More support.

She could only hope that Marinette and the Waynes grew to become family for her like she and Adrien had. Kwami knew that Marinette needed all the help she could get for the foreseeable future.

“You did good, my Queen.”

“I know, Pollen. Now we just have to find out who dared hurt my hive.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Dude this took so long to write, but I’m actually really proud of it. Probably gonna take this Maribat March a little differently than last year, and make a few longer stories by connecting some of the prompts together. Maybe each week will be a full story? Idk I’ll figure it out. I know I’m behind but I’m working on it.

I tried to keep the angst out, but it found it’s way in here anyway. Oh well!

#mlb x dc #ml x dc #maribat #maribat march 2021 #Maribat March 2k21 #platonic brucinette #found family #day 1 #Maribat March #day 1 found family #I was a little late but oh well

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

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statistically significant | 6 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

Mina, Kaminari, and Bakugou did not waste any time.

No sooner had Bakugou spoken than he had you on your feet, shepherding you to the door. His movements had completely changed--no longer was he loud, aggressive, the most volatile thing in the room. Now, he slipped behind you like a shadow, his body pressed firmly and protectively over you, lithe armor at your back.

Mina and Kaminari moved with you, looking solemn.

“We’re going for the surveillance room,” Bakugou growled, “Need to see what the fuck is happening.”

The hall was barren as you emerged into it, silent and still until another explosion rocked the foundations of the building.

“And fast, we need to get Y/N out,” Mina added.

You didn’t protest. You didn’t know what the hell was going on, but you knew distant explosions couldn’t mean anything good.

The surveillance room made it all too clear exactly what was happening. Tens of people were pouring into the top levels of the building, smashing through windows on the business floors, blowing the sides of the building clean open near marketing. A few men dressed in dark coats appeared to have the gall to waltz straight through the front entrance. Everywhere, Miruko’s civilian employees were fleeing in all directions, uncertain of where to run in the chaos.

Your pulse spiked wildly and you watched as Bakugou’s gaze narrowed to scarlet pinpricks as he seemed to spot something familiar to him.

Kaminari made a choked noise. “Is that--?”

“Sugimoto,” Bakugou growled, tapping the image of a tall man surrounded by some kind of glowing purple forcefield quirk. A crackle of sparks lit off from Bakugou’s palm, hot and sharp, and you jumped in surprise.

“What’s Sugimoto?” you asked, looking up into his face.

His lip curled disdainfully. “He’s head of a crime syndicate. Miruko agency raided them a couple months ago in coordination with the police, took down almost the entire syndicate in one straight shot. Miruko killed both of his brothers during the firefight--I’d bet anything he’s here for revenge.”

You suppressed a shiver. Either the man was incredibly confident in his own ability to take on the number seven hero and her entire agency, or he was fucking insane and desperate for revenge. Either way, you did not want to be caught in the crossfire.

“Raccoon, Pikachu, get up to the business level,” Bakugou commanded, a calloused hand closing around your arm. “I’m gonna get the nerd out first, and then I’ll be back to roast Sugimoto in his fucking skin.”

Kaminari nodded and Mina gave you a smile and a reassuring pet over your hair. “Don’t be too late or we’ll get to have all the fun,” she said to Bakugou, winking.

And then she and Kaminari were gone, disappearing in the direction of the stairwell. Your heart rate stuttered nervously, watching them go. Mina’s confidence was reassuring--she was fucking terrifying when she was in her element, and Kaminari was powerful too. But there had been so many people flowing into the building, like the rising tide of a sudden tsunami. You hoped they would be okay.

“You in there, nerd?” Bakugou’s voice cut through your flurry of doubt.

You looked up at him, steeling your features. He was still streaked with dirt and scratches from the training room. You hoped having trained so much already wasn’t going to disadvantage any of them in their fight. “Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”

He considered you, blonde brows turned down. “You’re gonna be fine, nerd. I’ll kill anyone who fucking looks at you.”

A small strangled noise like a laugh escaped your throat. He was so bad at being reassuring, it was almost reassuring in and of itself. He still was going to be entering the fray several hours into using his quirk already, however. You wondered if his self certainty was going to be enough.

“You don’t think I will?” he demanded angrily, looking absolutely incensed. He looked like he might storm out of your office again, like you had just said the word help to him.

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” you said. “When you go back in, just--be careful, okay?”

His eyes picked over you curiously. Then a small, mortifying smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I fucking knew you had a crush on me, you little freak.”

Your face heated as you gabbled out a protest. “This is so not the time. And I didn’t say that.”

Bakugou rolled a strong shoulder, looking far more relaxed that he had any right to. “Yeah, whatever. You’ll be singing a different tune when this is over.” He watched you for a long moment, his expression looking strangely contemplative.

And then he leaned down and kissed you on the mouth.

Your brain went empty. This could have been just another day at the office for all the thought you were giving the fight upstairs. This could have been any day anywhere, because suddenly you couldn’t remember where you were or what the fuck was going on at all. Bakugou’s mouth was hot and insistent, and he curled a strong arm around your waist to draw you closer, biting down gently on your lip.

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt for dear life, knees going strangely weak, as he swore into your mouth and pressed you into him harder.

“Fuck, I’m not finished with you,” he said when he released you, pressing one last hard kiss to your mouth. “You’re gonna stay right the fuck where I put you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly, trying to will your fingers into unclenching from his shirt. “Y--yeah.”

He smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. You felt your eyebrow twitch reflexively, despite everything that had just happened. “Alright, stay close, nerd. I’m gonna get you the fuck out of here.”

You nodded again. He pulled you behind him, letting you fist your hands in his shirt again, and then lead the way down the hall, keeping close to the wall, the line of his body tense and alert. Some of your earlier uneasiness settled back over you, oppressively heavy, weighing down your every step. The training had been truly terrifying but this was much, much worse, the dread and anticipation coiling in your gut until you thought you might be sick.

You made it to the stairwell and flipped up several floors without incident, though you could hear with some clarity the scuffles ongoing on the floors above you. You encountered no one, not even fellow heroes or civilians, until you hit the ground floor.

Bakugou reached behind him, pressing you even closer to his back with a firm hand. “Alright, nerd. Stay close while I move. If I stop, stay still and trust me, alright?”

Your blood pounded in your veins and you took a calming breath. You could hear the sounds of a fight just beyond the door, but there was no other way out of the stairwell. You’d just have to go through the main floor. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Good girl,” he said. And then he kicked open the door.

Your brain short circuited and you had just enough mind to register that he was moving, scrambling to keep up with him as he stalked forward through the doorway. You held on to the back of his shirt, pulse spiking wildly, and not just because of your apprehension.

There was a deafening boom like thunder and the hall in front of you went up in a flash, the walls splintering into pieces. Over one of Bakugou’s broad shoulders, you could see the explosion blowing two men straight through the window at the end of the hall, glass shattering around them.

From down the hall came Miruko’s harsh tone, her breath a little labored. “Katsuki, fucking watch it! That’s my window.”

“Yeah yeah,” Bakugou growled, not sounding the least bit chastened. He pulled you to the side as something cold went sailing past your left shoulder, firing off another blast from his palm to shoot the person right through the hole in the window he’d just made.

The two of you crossed through the halls slowly but surely, Bakugou sending anyone who came across your path straight through the wall. To your surprise, he ducked into rooms as he went, demanding that the agency employees hiding under their desks “stop acting like little piss babies and get a move on.” Soon there was a small squadron of people following after his back, and Bakugou had you out of the building and blinking in the sunshine before any of the villains caught the group escaping.

“Stay with these extras,” Bakugou commanded imperiously, shoving you after the group of employees towards the end of the street where the growing swell of sirens could be heard. “I’ll see you soon, nerd.”

He paused, fingers brushing over your mouth for a moment. And then he was gone, shooting himself straight back into the fray. The sirens at the end of the street got louder, and soon several squad cars were pulling around the corner. You joined the flow of people streaming out of Miruko’s agency towards the police, though you couldn’t rip your eyes from the agency building.

The windows had been blown out tens of floors up, and you could hear the crackle of quirks in use, see the flash and bang of Kaminari’s lightning, the blue glow of an unknown quirk on the fifth floor, a tangle of vines wrestling several men out of a window on the fourteenth floor. Mina appeared at a window briefly, covered in acid hardened to an armor, easily deflecting what might have been a devastating blow and kicking a yakuza straight through the glass.

You bit down on a whooping cheer. Now wasn’t the moment.

You tried to keep sight of what was going on as the police shepherded you behind a makeshift blockade, cordoning off the area and sweeping the nearby buildings to help evacuate. The crowd of people around you chattered and shifted restlessly. The longer the fight dragged out, the more anxious you became, your senses heightened to the point of strain, looking for any sign of Bakugou and the others.

Then, to your horror, detonations went off on several of the floors, blowing out the remaining windows, and the building itself shuddered and groaned. A chorus of screams went up from inside the agency as pieces of the building began to detach themselves, crumbling to the ground. Your heart leapt into your mouth, blood icing over in your veins.

A few terrified looking civilians appeared at the windows on the top floors, clinging to the window frames as the foundation lurched. You went still, hardly breathing. Oh my god, were they going to jump? They were several stories up, odds were low they would survive if they did. But--the building shuddered again--fuck, they weren’t going to make it if they went back inside.

Oh my god you were going to watch people die right in front of you.

No sooner had you had the thought than someone was rocketing straight up at them from the ground. Your heart rate spiked, recognizing that mess of blonde hair--Bakugou. Without ceremony he grabbed two people and leapt back off the side of the building, using his explosions to slow their descent. They’d barely met the ground before he was up again, catching another two around the middle and hurtling straight for the ground once more.

Your fingers twisted in the hem of your shirt, watching him anxiously. There were just a few more, just three more people and he would have everyone. You willed your breathing to slow, eyes glued to the scene before you.

Then there was a purple glow, and Sugimoto appeared behind the civilians.

You stopped breathing.

Sugimoto kicked one of the civilians in the back of the knee, sending him out of window, careening head over heels towards the ground. Bakugou had barely just enough time to react, tackling the man in mid air and hitting the side of the building hard with his shoulder before he was able to correct their trajectory.

The building gave another rattle as he did, a crack splitting straight up the middle, spiderwebbing into a thousand smaller fissures.

A blur of pink appeared at the base of the building, Mina materializing just as Bakugou hit the ground with the civilian. A crowd of heroes dragging injured civilians followed her, several of them immediately grabbing onto the people Bakugou had gotten to the ground and towing them out of arm’s reach.

You looked back up to the top floor where Sugimoto had the last two employees in his grip, the edges of that forcefield rippling and roiling over him. His mouth moved like he was saying something but you were too far to hear it, though you could guess the implication. He had a forcefield quirk in a building he’d engineered to collapse. The heroes could choose to go after him but the building was seconds away from imploding, and there wouldn’t be enough time to grab both him and the civilians. Even if Bakugou went up, he only had enough capacity for two people--he’d have to pick between the civilians if he also wanted to grab Sugimoto. And besides that, he wasn’t indestructible. Bakugou didn’t have a quirk that could shield him the same way Sugimoto did as the building went down.

The idea hit you at the same time it appeared to hit Mina and Bakugou. The people around you began to murmur in alarm as Bakugou sank back on the concrete, laying down flat on his back like he was going to take a nap in the sun. In the midst of a crisis the visual was certainly out of place, and a soft “what the fuck is he doing?” from behind you reaffirmed it.

Quick as a flash, Mina had coated herself in hardened acid, and then she was stretching out over Bakugou’s lean form, her vicious smile visible even from where you stood. Bakugou raised his hands to her stomach and called something to the heroes nearby. They all went stumbling back, tearing away from him as fast as they could.

All was still for a second. And then a blast of heat and fire ripped through the street, a roar like thunder rendering you deaf for a moment. You closed your eyes against the wave of hot wind and dust Bakugou’s explosion kicked up, and when you managed to crack one open, Mina was hurtling through the window like a rocket, hitting the edge of Sugimoto’s shield and driving him straight back into the building.

The civilians dropped from his grip.

Bakugou braced his hands against the ground and let off another massive explosion, propelling him straight upwards. He met the civilians in seconds, managing to grab them and flip around in mid air, aiming another series of blasts at the ground to control their fall.

A shocked cheer went up behind you when they hit the street, and you couldn’t contain your own gleeful noise that escaped you, though you couldn’t tear your eyes from the spot where Mina had disappeared.

Bakugou barely had time to get the civilians clear before the top floor began to crumble as the building shook, plaster dislodging itself from the ceiling and slapping down in loud thuds you could hear even from where you stood. You watched anxiously, waiting for Mina’s reappearance, as the building gave one final shudder and then caved in.

The second it did, a head of wild pink curls appeared and Mina flung herself off the top floor, just as the floor gave out underneath her. Bakugou was already moving, breaking into an all out sprint. He flung his arms out behind him, explosions ripping up the ground underneath him, and he collided with Mina mere feet from the ground, wrapping an arm around her and blasting them both back up just as chunks of the building slammed down where they had been.

The entire building came crumbling down in a shower of grey dust, shaking the street and sending a wave of car alarms sounding. Bakugou and Mina came down in a semi-controlled spiral, managing to hit the street just beyond the police barricade, Bakugou rolling in the same move he’d done with you earlier to disperse some of their momentum.

A wild cheer went up and you shouted too, elation rising in you like a flood, crawling through your limbs like a slow shiver.

Miruko hopped the barrier beside you, rushing over to where Bakugou and Mina lay. They were both panting, covered head to do in grey dust, looking worse for wear but alive.

“Sugimoto?” Miruko demanded.

Bakugou pushed himself up on an elbow, the red of his eyes bright against the dust covering him, like a spot of blood on a tissue. Mina popped up next to him, nosy bloody, but grinning.

“Unconscious,” she announced. “Shoved him out the back of the building before it collapsed. I melted the floor under him and he lost focus for a second. That’s all I needed to hit him and encase him in acid. He should be a little injured from the fall but alive.”

Miruko grinned savagely, leaning down to ruffle both of their hair. “You did good work, brats.”

“Get the fuck offa me, hag,” Bakugou complained. You noticed he made no move to dislodge her hand, though, and you stifled a laugh at how obvious he was. Mina had said he had a thing for girls who fucked with him...

Then Kaminari was bursting past Miruko, throwing himself onto the two of them in a whirlwind of tears and flailing limbs.

“That was the coolest shit I have ever seen!” he declared at a deafening volume. “You launched Mina through a building! It was fucking awesome!”

“I’ll launch you through a building if you don’t get the fuck off me,” Bakugou growled, shoving Kaminari’s weight straight onto Mina. He rolled to his feet before Kaminari could come back for more, cocking his head to look into the crowd like he was looking for something. An EMT to patch him up? An officer to make a report, maybe?

Then his eyes locked onto you, and you realized.

Oh, he was looking for you.

He was on you in seconds. You didn’t have time to even squeak out his name before he was swallowing it up, pulling you close to him. He tasted like ash and dust, frankly kind of gross, but you were so disturbingly relieved that he was okay that you didn’t even care, pressing even harder against him as he kissed you.

And okay. So maybe you did have a thing for him, you thought. Maybe. Just a little.

He was still annoying as hell, but he’d just saved a ton of people. Just now, you hadn’t even seen him engage in combat except to rescue people, he’d saved dozens of people including you and Mina, and he’d pulled off the most awesome assist that you had ever seen, letting Mina take down the big bad instead of haring in after the dude himself.

He could, maybe for now, totally get it.

Bakugou smirked down at you when you finally separated, red eyes and white teeth bright against all the grime on him. He leaned in, placing a hand on your cheek.

And in the haughtiest, most migraine-inducing tone ever, he said: “Now who’s the fucking best?”

You made no effort to conceal your eye roll. Well, you supposed, there was only so much about a person that could change in a month.

Instead of complaining, you let him kiss you again.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou

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tainted-wine · 3 years ago

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Oh wow first of all please let me congratulate you on your skill and good taste. I absolutely adore all of your hawks writing. It's so good and also hilarious when you want it to be. I especially love how annoyed he seems to get with song birds, and that low-key makes me wonder how he would be with a reader w a songbird quirk. Like he wants to find her annoying so badly, and in some ways he does? But at the same time he knows they have a lot of shared experiences as ppl with bird mutation quirks and that's kind of nice for him? To have someone to share that with, you know? Idk.

You're super sweet, anon. ♥

(This turned into a messy ficlet thing)

I don't know why I decided to make Hawks a songbird hater; it’s just a headcanon I decided to stay consistent with for whatever reason.

I've actually gotten similar asks like this and I'm currently hoarding them all in the hopes of one day making something out of it, because I love this idea very much. Hawks views songbirds as obnoxious hopeless romantics. Do they really need to be that loud about their love? It's like having the top 100 love songs playing all at once.

He already admitted that you were pretty cute when you both first met. Your wings were smaller and required frequent and rapid flaps, the opposite of his large and soaring pair. Very cute, along with your shyness in approaching a bird of prey such as him, but he promises that he doesn't bite. Then your singing began...

It’s instinctual, you say. Once your fondness for him grew strong enough, the urge to vocalize your love in the form of a song specially made for him became impossible to fight. He’ll predictably tease you at first. Creating a melody straight from your heart, the sound of your voice perfectly simulating the strength of your bond, giving other listeners a mere taste of a relationship they could not have. It’s corny, it’s sappy...

It’s so freakin’ sweet.

He blamed your quirk at first. It had to be some secondary ability that attracted whoever you decided to sing about, like some bewitching siren. It’s a dumb accusation; he trusts that you’d never manipulate him like that. It may even ignite a petty argument or two, but in the end, Hawks will accept it. He loves your song.

As wonderful as it is to just listen, he feels that he needs to reciprocate, but what is he gonna do? Sing back?? He doesn’t know how to do that. His instincts were telling him to show his appreciation in another way.

It’s instinctual, he says. He expresses the joy he feels around you by performing an amazing aerobatics show. It’s quite nerve-wracking at first. So many daring maneuvers — twirls, turns, dives, and flips — all just to impress you. And he has the gall to call songbird traditions excessive? So many of these moves could have killed him if he didn’t time them just right! It’s so dangerous, so reckless...

So spectacular.

As exciting as it was for the two of you to flaunt your natural skills, both of your rituals felt incomplete. You wanted Hawks to sing back. Hawks wanted you to dance beside him in the sky. One discussion later, you both decide on...a cultural exchange of sorts.

You want Hawks to sing? You want him to sing? Even after he promises you that his voice sounds more unsettling than the screeching of violins in a horror movie? Fine. You even protest when he mentions practicing. “Just sing from your heart,” you say. Ugh, whatever. He warned you.

At the crack of dawn, Hawks does everything as instructed. He joins your side at the top of the Fukuoka tower, and sings his heart out. He sounds terrible, he’s certain of it, but he ignores his blush of embarrassment and keeps going, letting his passion guide him like you told him.

His song is everything you could’ve asked for. His voice was shrill, unsteady, and had absolutely zero technique. But it was so...him. So Keigo Takami. The melody carries his courage and compassion. His tone reveals uncertainty in his singing, but it also reveals the raw confidence in his love and devotion. It leaves your heart melting, and before you knew it, you were joining him in a duet, trying your best to harmonize with his...erm...unique vocals. The song went on as the sun rose, prompting several noise complaints about a ‘dying bird that needs to be put out of its damn misery already.’

You give the flustered hawk a hug and kiss for that beautiful masterpiece. You also make sure he doesn’t see those complaints. He already feels awkward enough about his performance.

Alright, now it’s your turn to feel anxious. Very anxious. As Hawks led you to the seaside park, he reminded you once again that he doesn’t expect you to pull off any expert moves in the air. “If you’re really not sure what to do, then just follow my lead. I won’t do anything crazy up there. This is about trust.”

You trust that he’ll save you if anything goes wrong, whether it be during the warm-up or during the....oof, you shudder just thinking about it.

The first act has you taking off over the water, warming up your wings before your own little stunt show begins. Knowing your body’s limits, you focus on flight patterns and speed, pushing your flying abilities further than you ever have before. It doesn’t even compare to Hawks’s amazing moves — you were too scared to even attempt any of those flips — but at least you pulled off a couple spins, and Hawks looks captivated while watching from below.

You tried not to look out of breath already when it was time for act two. Hawks took flight, passing you and heading upwards. You followed, mirroring every single one of his little tricks (he thankfully kept his promise of not doing anything crazy) as you both flew higher and higher until the air became uncomfortably thin. You’ve never been this high up before.

Reaching the desired altitude, Hawks took your hands and locked them in his, bringing you in close. He gives you a few light pecks while praising your skills. “I’ve never seen you zip around like that. Such a quick and clever little bird.” The flattery almost distracts you from the final act, the part you’ve been dreading the most.

The very idea of the Death Spiral still sounds utterly insane, even as you’re about to attempt it yourself.

All you do is hover and hold each other for a minute or two, then Hawks gives the unspoken cue. His wings fold in, you quickly follow suit, and you’re both plummeting down headfirst toward the water. You did end up screaming halfway down, but at least you were still able to remain fairly focused until the end. You were just a few meters away from impact when you and Hawks simultaneously released your grip, just barely righting yourself before you could make an embarrassing splash.

Hawks tackles you hard into the ground the second you’ve recovered, hugging you tightly and attacking with rapid fire kisses.

“You did it, baby!” Kiss. “That was so intense!” Kiss. “I never thought I’d find someone to do the Spiral with!” Smooch. “You’re so brave. Thank you for trusting me!” Mwah.

You’re shaking too violently and need to go find a bathroom immediately.

---

And that’s how you and Hawks became mates and learned to better respect each other’s bird traditions. Hawks now owns a songbird calender that hangs in his bedroom.

#asks #hawks

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 3 years ago

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Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 3

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago. With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns, the ladies on the Discord! Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 2 4 Epilogue

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Wait...what?” Emma sputtered. “He’s not dead? How is that possible? I thought you said you sensed his spirit or whatever.”

Merlin nodded, brows furrowed. “Something...unusual...is certainly going on here, though I’m at a loss as to what it might be. I certainly sense his spirit, but I also sense your friend is correct. Killian Jones has not yet passed over to the spirit world.”

“So,” Emma said after a moment, “does that mean he really was asking for my help? That there’s some guy out there who’s, I don’t know, lying in a ditch or something and I can save him?”

Merlin closed his eyes, concentrating. He appeared to be listening intently. Finally he nodded, opened his eyes and looked back at Emma. “He says he doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know exactly what happened to him. He remembers you, Emma, remembers running into you before--whatever happened to leave him in his current state.”

Remembers running into me? What did that even mean?

“So--this Killian, he knows me?” Emma asked.

“Not exactly,” Merlin said. “You met once, and let’s just say you made quite an impression. You were fresh on Killian’s mind when his mishap occurred. No doubt that’s the reason his spirit attached itself to you. He sensed a kindred spirit, sensed you were someone who could hear him, come to his aid.”

“Well if that’s what he thought, I think he’s probably screwed,” Emma murmured, feeling the helplessness and agitation rise. “I’m no savior or whatever. I don’t even know who this guy is, let alone where he is or how to find him. It’s just...just too much.”

Merlin leaned forward and put a comforting hand on Emma’s forearm. “Just breathe, Emma,” he soothed, modeling the advice for her until she joined in, until her heart rate slowed, and she felt much less like she was about to lose control. “You have the heart of a hero. You keep your walls high, feeling the need to protect yourself, but underneath it all beats the heart of someone who wishes to be of service to her fellow man and woman. You may not believe it, but trust me--Killian Jones’s faith in you was not misplaced. You got his messages. You followed up on them. You came to me, even though you do not believe in my abilities. I have every confidence in the world that because of you, Killian Jones will be found and saved.”

Emotions hit Emma hard. Growing up in the system as she had, she’d always felt like a lost little girl who didn’t matter to anyone and never would. Merlin would never know just how much his words meant to her.

And Killian. Though she’d never met him--or at least she didn’t remember it if she had--she strangely felt a deep, abiding gratitude and affection for him because of his faith in her. Whether it made sense or not, she somehow knew Merlin spoke the truth. She knew Killian believed in her; that he was connected to her in some weird, psychic way that she couldn’t explain.

It made her all the more convinced that whatever it took, she would find him, and she would save him.

“Thanks,” she said thickly, feeling keenly just how insufficient the small word was. “But what now? How do we find him?”

“Ask him yourself,” Merlin said. “You’re the one with the strongest connection to him. Ask him where he is; how we can find him.”

Emma took a deep breath, looking around the room, not knowing where exactly to direct her words. “Um…” she said, “so I don’t know if you can hear me or whatever, but we need help finding you. Do you know where you are? Can you see anything? Hear anything? Are you...are you in pain?”

Merlin closed his eyes again for a moment, listening, and then he returned his attention to Emma. “Killian doesn’t know where he is, but he assures you he’s as comfortable as can be expected. He can’t see anything, but he hears beeping, people moving in and out, some speaking to him, others merely speaking about him.”

“I wonder…” Emma mused, “what if someone found him, took him to the hospital?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I was just wondering if you have any John Does,” Emma asked the woman at the welcome desk of Storybrooke General Hospital. “I’m looking for someone who might have been brought here, maybe several months ago.”

The woman perked up. “There is one man. He was brought in six months ago with severe head wounds; has been in a coma ever since. The cops found him near an alley. We haven’t had any luck finding out his identity or really anything about him.”

Emma’s heart pounded. This was him. She knew it; she could feel it.

“Can you take me to him?” Emma asked. “It may sound weird, but I think I can help.”

The woman smiled gently at her. “We’ve been waiting such a long time for one of his loved ones to show up. He’s quite a favorite of the nurses. He’s rather easy on the eyes, after all.”

Emma felt the heat creep up her cheeks at the implication she was Killian’s loved one. She didn’t even know the man, after all, as much as it might feel like she did. “Yeah, well, uh...can I see him?”

“Of course!”

The woman led Emma and Merlin down a hallway and through a pair of glass double doors into the bright, sunny intensive care unit. This place was oddly cheerful for a place of such desperation.

No sooner were they through the door than Emma’s eyes found the dark haired man on the bed, and recognition flared immediately.

“Wait, I’ve seen him before!” she exclaimed to Merlin. “I was running late one day, and that guy ran into me--literally. Made me drop my sack of groceries. I was kind of rude to him, honestly. Felt bad about it afterwards, but it was just one of those days, you know?”

Merlin smiled. “That moment was when your connection was forged. Killian is still speaking to me. He says you’ve nothing to feel bad about. Your encounter, brief as it was, pulled him from some rather dark thoughts. Despite what happened afterwards, he’s grateful to you.”

It was an odd feeling, finally coming face to face with the man who’d been calling and texting her--the man who’d been unconscious for months. He was there and yet he wasn’t.

She hadn’t the slightest clue what she was meant to do now, and so she did the only thing she could--she pulled up a chair and sat next to Killian’s bedside.

Some time later, Emma didn’t know how long, a doctor came in, a man with bleached blond hair and far more self-confidence than anyone had the right to.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Whale,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand. “I was told you were here. You’re John Doe’s--?”

“Uh, friend,” Emma said uncomfortably. “So what’s being done for him? What’s his prognosis?”

“I can’t give you any details,” Dr. Whale said, “privacy laws and all of that, but he’s stable. We’re keeping him comfortable; that’s about all we can do at the moment.”

The man did a quick examination, exchanged a few more pleasantries and then moved on to his next patient.

“That’s not precisely true, Emma,” Merlin whispered as soon as the doctor was out of earshot. “There may not be anything more they can do, but there may very well be something more you can do.”

“What do you mean? What can I do that a doctor can’t?”

“Bring him back to himself,” Merlin said simply. “Coax him to wake up.”

Oh, is that all? “How exactly am I supposed to do that?” Emma asked.

“Graham is still with us,” Merlin said rather than address the question itself. “He wants you to know he believes in you. You already have the answers within you. All you need to do is trust yourself.”

For a moment Emma wanted to scream. What kind of an answer was that? How the hell could she wake a guy from a coma? What, was she supposed to yell in his ear or something?

But little by little, Emma realized Merlin was right. She didn’t know how, but somehow she knew exactly what she needed to do. Getting to her feet, Emma went to the bedside and took Killian’s hand. With her other hand, she brushed his fringe from his face and then cupped his stubbled jaw, letting her thumb caress his cheek.

“It’s time to wake up now,” she said in a soft voice. “Killian, come back to me.”

For a moment nothing happened, and then suddenly his startlingly blue eyes opened, zeroing in on her face before a wide, delighted smile graced his lips.

“Swan,” he breathed, “at last!”

Notes:

--Yay! Killian woke up!

--Up next: We get some answers about what really happened to Killian. Also, do you remember the other desperate/angry spirit that was with Emma/Merlin/Graham earlier? He shows up again...and it turns out he has a lot of answers for us.

Next Chapter-->

#cssns21 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ghost story au #my fanfiction #dead man's cell phone

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thefrostqueen · 4 years ago

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Hanyo no Yashahime

Season 1 Review

It’s review time

Hanyo no Yashahime is the sequel to the classic anime InuYasha, in which a teen from present day travels back to Feudal Japan where demons and magic are very much a reality. The sequel follows the children of the main characters from InuYasha and puts them on their own adventure to save the world.

Note: All opinions are my own. This is a critical review of entertainment media, and will include criticism. If you do not agree, then simply ignore.

The Plot

Early on, it was established that Towa and company would seek out the dream butterfly and get back Setsuna’s dreams/sleep. Treekyo told them they would have to defeat Sesshomaru and Kirinmaru. After many episodes, this plot line was unimportant and almost discarded. Passing and fleeting, the true motive of the girls quest is sporadic and mentioned sparingly, and for many episodes it seemed they were only there to slay high level demons.

Mysteries and questions were extremely abundant and established early on, and as the episodes went by, it was clear they wouldn’t be answered. At least this season. One thing the fandom has noticed is how many questions there are, and how in some crazy way sunrise managed to withhold all answers and key plot points from the plot for so long. Treekyo? Not that important apparently. Her prophecy? Never mentioned again. The dream butterfly? Seen not explained. It’s connection to Kirinmaru and Zero? Contradicted in the show. InuYasha and Kagome? Just as forgotten as Moroha when there is a fight.

The pacing of this show was all over the place and inconsistent, providing too much focus on filler in some episodes and not enough plot in others. And in the episodes where we got to come back to the main story, we would get info dumps. I mentioned in my mid-season review how info dumps are cheap in the scheme of writing and plot outline, and I’ll say it again because I was surprised as the episodes went on how inconsistent everything was getting.

Now, don’t get me wrong, InuYasha had lots of fillers too, but unlike Yashahime, they established a lot of exposition and plot within the first 12 episodes; we got the main characters and their ambitions/conflicts, the main villain, the dual antagonist (Sesshomaru, at least he was a villain for a bit anyway) and the basics of the magic system was established and explained. Yashahime did set up the character’s goals, but the character’s quickly seemed to forget them, while in InuYasha their goal of finding the jewel shards was always at the forefront of the majority of the episodes. The main villain was supposedly Kirinmaru (his careless attitude throughout most of the show did not provide the antagonistic “high stakes”) and he sent demons to battle the girls, but the girls were so overpowered and perfected their powers so quickly that the demons provided no real challenge or added any stakes or drama.

The ability/powers of characters were retconned. This was odd and not something I expected. One of the most notable examples is how certain abilities are apparently genetic and inherited through dna instead of through the swords that harbored them like the original series established. An example is Moroha’s “Crimson Backlash Wave” where it mimics the ability Tessaiga has where it sends an opponent’s own demonic attack right back at them, destroying them with their own demonic energy. Moroha does not use Tessaiga, she uses Kurikaramaru. The backlash wave was said to be unique to Tessaiga, and only able to be used with Tessaiga, but that lore was weirdly chosen to be retconned. It is unclear wether or not this will be expanded upon in season 2.

In episode 19 of Yashahime, there was blatant homophobia and transphobia. No excuse, there was. InuYasha also had homophobic and transphobic characters. Yashahime could have changed that, but it perpetuated that instead, and it was extremely disappointing. In episode 20, Shiori, a beloved character from the original series, is shown changing into her human form during a solar eclipse. Yashahime chose to whitewash the character by lightening her dark skin. In InuYasha, several characters had darker skin, like InuYasha himself, and when he turned into his human form, his skin would stay the same. There is no excuse for this. Both of these episodes blighted Yashahime’s potential to step away from those things, but it continued to do it instead.

The final episode of the show was fast and full of unanswered questions. The dream butterfly was still not explained, Rin did not wake up, InuYasha and Kagome were not even mentioned, let alone released, and Kirinmaru parented Towa and Setsuna better than their own father. Zero flees, using spider silk (she strangely has many parallels with Naraku, even down to spider imagery) and sets herself up to be the main villain. And Setsuna dies, and Sesshomaru doesn’t seem that worried at all. It was interesting however to see Kirinmaru fight the girls, and he basically began teaching them about their moves and powers. Another interesting aspect was how Sesshomaru is apparently, potentially, time traveling. He shows up and hands Towa the Tensiaga, and the rain stops, and when she takes it, the rain starts again. Towa looks up and it is shown Sesshomaru has vanished instantaneously.

The Characters

Towa Higurashi: In the first two episodes, Towa was portrayed as a tomboy who kicked ass and cared for her family. She was confident and had ambition. Once she came to the feudal era however, her entire personality changed. Her surroundings and the people/beings she met were indeed something she had never encountered, but she suddenly became a moralist, and cautioned Setsuna and Moroha to never fight, despite she herself being notorious in modern day for fighting bullies and bad people. It is almost like her fighting persona in modern day had never happened. Overall, it felt her character was overly gullible, and though she meant well, her sudden drop from “school fighter” to “naive moralist” was odd and seemed to contradict the character they set up in the first three episodes.

Setsuna: Like father like daughter, Setsuna retains her father’s most iconic personality traits, and is focused on her ambitions and remains cautious around people and demons alike. She was, perhaps, the one out of the three princesses to have the most backstory and character focus (despite Towa being the main character) The mystery of her connection with the dream butterfly was genuinely interesting, though it did feel like it dragged on for too long in certain aspects (some lore even felt contradicted) Writing wise, Setsuna felt the most consistently written character of the three girls, both in personality and in development.

Moroha: The perfect mix of her parents, Moroha has had little to few familial relationships and friendships in her life. Her goal of earning money seemed petty at first, but when Moroha finally got her own episode, it was revealed to have a deeper meaning. That episode highlighted Moroha’s strength and perseverance. What was a poor move on behalf of Yashahime’s writers was the strange choice to constantly omit Moroha from vital fights (and even basic fights) It happened pretty much every time, and Moroha was never around for key information about her parents or their quest. It is unclear why her being there for the information would be a bad thing. Her relationship with Towa and Setsuna was shallow, and their bonding had no real emotional impact. In fact, Towa and Setsuna openly mention how they need her for her abilities, not because they like her. The one episode they tried to make them bond fell flat due to the lack of build up and relationship development.

Conclusion

Hanyo no Yashahime was inconsistent and fell flat with several character relationships and motivations. Plot point execution was sporadic and lacked emotional depth and coherent understanding, leaving viewers more confused than awed. Characters from InuYasha were out of character and felt hollow; some of them were not even involved as much as one would think and one didn’t even show up. Kirinmaru is perhaps the most interesting new character to come out of the series, and his respect for the Great Dog Demon has led him to enter a deal with Sesshomaru, and even protect the three princesses. This contradicts several actions he took, and makes a compelling mystery in certain aspects. In conclusion, the show felt rushed and lacked emotional and character depth, and presented several problematic and harmful themes.

Note: Again, all opinions are my own. You are free to comment, but please be respectful.

#hanyo no yashahime #kirinmaru #yashahime #yashahime thoughts

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anerdinallherglory · 4 years ago

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Approaching Sun (30)

Author’s Note: Happy late Valentine’s Day! Fun note: I actually started A.S. on this very same holiday a couple years back. And I did not expect the length or plot this story has taken at allll. Again, I am sorry this is so late. I am hoping to update a LOT more this summer (only one summer class this time!) Unless I get the new job that I am hoping for (fingers crossed). But if I get this job, my free time to write will really open up for me. So it’s a win-win for this story either way.

Also, I want to especially thank these readers: adarkunicorn, softshelldefence, seafoamsands, hatakeliz, harza4925, peachop, cheese-and-biscuits, epitomeofprocrastination, tamnobela, and andreeastroe. These readers really encouraged me to keep writing this story after I was ready trash and take it off all of its publishing sites. You can thank them this story continues.

To all my reviewers, I seriously love you ALL. I am hoping I will get to a point where I can take a break from student emails and respond to each and every one of your reviews in the future. That will be my new year’s resolution this year! I am going to be better. You are all amazing and bring me so much joy and encouragement.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

Chapter 30: A Very Dangerous Game

Sasuke hated Kaguya’s sand dimension even more than he disliked the desert that covered the vast majority of the Land of Wind. This dimension was forever hot despite that the dimension’s otherworldly moon hung low in the dark horizon, a massive orb of blinding white that mirrored the Earth’s moon in exact replica. Sasuke had always felt like the illusion was a reminder of the Otsusuki people, and that Kaguya had designed this dimension to display something that reminded her of home. To Sasuke, the dimension moons eerily reminded him of Kaguya’s pupil-less irises, always watching the spaces that existed between nothing.

Glaring at it in paranoid response, Sasuke, deprived of chakra now, walked toward it slowly and determinedly as a challenge. He would show her exactly how her dimensions were now his domains. The Uchiha decided he would walk freely here because he couldn’t do as he pleased his own world. He wanted to scream curses at that eye-like globe, demanding the Otsusuki show up and take him on now in his weakened state.

“Come on!” he screamed. “All of you! What are you waiting for? Let’s get this over with! I will find you all eventually!” He wanted it done. He wanted this over. He wanted to have a life despite his promise to be the worlds’ sacrifice for peace.

As if to taunt him, Sasuke’s shuffling feet snagged over something in the sand, and he glanced down at his feet in surprise. A ninja’s vest, half-burnt away from acid, displayed itself like a green bearing flag left behind by those who had explored a barren planet. Even though Sasuke had been the only human to ever walk here, Sakura’s old vest that Sasuke had used as a teleport connection between dimensions back when he had been trapped here, always served as a call to his more current jumps. In other words, every time Sasuke had come here over the past couple of years, no matter where he opened the portal, he would always land within a few feet of it.

In the past, he had thought of removing it because it was a painful reminder in many ways. But as he returned consistently to the same spot, Sasuke began to theorize that it had something to do with his ability to travel here. At first, Sasuke believed it was because during teleportation, his path crisscrossed into a connection that had already been created and used before—this was the most likely explanation; his chakra simply wasn’t strong enough to rip a new tear in the fabric of space and time. But as he looked at it now, Sasuke wondered if there was more to it than that. Did emotions tie him to this piece of fabric? And because Sasuke’s friends always existed somewhere in the back of his mind, did his chakra seek it out as something familiar to secure itself to before flinging him through the vacuum of nothingness?

Sasuke glared back at the moon in hatred, wondering too, if it could be just a sick part of Kaguya’s illusions, knowing that the vest had in the past and always, always would continue to stop the Uchiha in his tracks. A temptation reminding him of a different life, one that would cause him to ignore the Otsusuki. Kaguya would want that.

He sat down beside it despite how much he wanted to turn and walk away from it as he always had. This time, he let it be his beacon out of the void, drawing some sort of strength from it in his chakra-deprived state. The whole point of being this exhausted was to avoid thinking of her, but the tattered shinobi vest always pricked him with guilt, especially now when he had left her alone in Sunagakure despite his promises of partnership. It was as if the green material had a voice of its own, saying “See how far she would go for you?” And Sasuke, keeping his thoughts private from the ever-watching rock above, would think to himself “I am doing this for her, too. She will understand eventually. She will accept just how far I am willing to go for this peace we both envision. We have the same goal.”

As Sasuke thought these thoughts again, Sasuke accepted that if they couldn’t be united in love, then at the very least, they would be united in the same goal, the same vision of happiness. It comforted him ever so slightly.

He sighed as he fingered the chakra pills at his waist, guilt invading his chest and suffocating him. How could he tell her his true feelings and make her accept what he was willing to accept? How could he satisfy the both of them and do the least damage?

Sasuke exhaled and leaned back in the sand once more to sleep, sweat beading across his brow in the high temperature. He turned on his side and faced the vest in exhaustion, pretending it was her—pretending to be satisfied with this small piece of the woman he loved and would ever allow himself to dream this close to.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The blackness pervaded all of Sakura’s senses as soon as her feet hit the ground opposite the giant hole she had just created in the sand. She blinked hard, hearing the cursing and alarmed proclamations of those she had attacked. The darkness was like a leaden mist before her eyes and Sakura instinctively created the sign of “release” for genjutsu. And whether it was from her lack of chakra, or because this was a ninjutsu, Sakura’s attempts yielded zero results. The blackness remained and blinded her past several inches in front of her face. When she heard Isao’s shout for her, she had no choice but to dart forward blindly, determined to reach him before someone else did.

“Let go of me!” the child screamed, his pursuer unfortunately catching up with him. Sakura navigated through the pillars of sand-dripping earth that now projected themselves in the air around her. With hands outstretched, she cursed herself. The blow had meant to disorient her opponents and it had, but this damn thickening darkness made it difficult to move forward through the landscape of her own destruction. Thankfully, the waterfalling crumble of sand masked her rushed footfalls.

The kunoichi drew upon her chakra once more, but it came as slowly as before, the medicine still lingering in her system with its toxic chakra clotting effects. Sakura moved hurriedly ahead, hoping that she wasn’t the only one choked with darkness.

Isao’s curses came and Sakura finally rounded a huge boulder to find herself facing the back of the thug’s head. He had his massive hands around the child’s throat, weapon tossed aside in favor of a crueler death to the victim that had caused him so much trouble. Despite his struggle for his life, Isao made eye contact with her the moment they were close enough to see each other. His attacker saw recognition register in the boy’s eyes and spun to face her. But it was too late. Sakura’s kunai was slicing the gray flesh of his throat before he even had time to see her, a final blow that had been delayed from earlier, but determined by fate to be his cause of death. The brutish ninja dropped to the ground instantly and Sakura justified the blood that pooled freely at her feet by remembering his cruel actions to the child that struggled to catch his breath before her.

Sakura picked up the abandoned weapon, the weight unfamiliar in her hands. The sound of the man’s death had betrayed her position, and the footsteps of his companions crunched closer to her location. Terrified, Sakura clutched the child, pushing him behind the jagged column of rock behind her.

“Isao,” she pleaded in a whisper. “You have to make a run for it.”

“I won’t leave you,” he declared, determined to fight to his death for her.

“The only thing you can do for me now is to go get help,” she said honestly. It was a half-truth. There were only a few realities before them, and Isao making it back to the village and bringing help was not likely due to how much time it would take. But Sakura was desperate to remove the brave child from the scenario. She cared too much to let him sacrifice himself for her.

“Miss—” he protested, but Sakura propelled him forward in the blinding darkness, an enemy’s footsteps rounding the earth that cloaked him. It was too late to argue, and Sakura turned to face the phantom-man who stepped toward her in visibility, shadows curling around him as he cleared a path through the inky mist.

Sakura faced him squarely, taking a defensive stance and raising the wicked katana with her sharper green eyes, sending a stare to him along the metal’s surface. The shadow-wielding ninja smirked and the rest of his crew appeared beside him.

“Go!” she screamed in final command at the child whose feet took off into the black at her back.

Sakura brandished the sword in confident threat at her attackers, herself serving as the shield between herself and Isao; they wouldn’t move an inch in pursuit of his direction if she had anything to do with it. Sakura had never wielded a sword before, but in the absence of chakra, she would become a master at it in this moment. Sakura was a kunoichi, a medic, a chakra control master, the pupil of a legendary Sanin, a rising legend herself, and today, she would add something else to her list. Scratch that. She would two things tonight: she would eradicate this new movement of anti-peace revolutionaries, and she would do it at disadvantage with the weapon of her enemy.

. . . . . . . .

As Isao ran, he clutched his side in pain, a sharp stab in his waist. The man who Sakura had killed moments before must have broken one of his ribs as he crushed Isao to the ground. At first, the young ninja pitched forward in blackness, half-debating to turn back to help the pink-haired ninja. But Isao knew the truth. He had been foolish to pursue her and her kidnappers alone and he cursed himself for his rash decisions in his fear of losing sight of them; he should have told someone else even if he lost their trail. Any of them, anyone at allwould have been better help to Miss Haruno than he had been.

Isao’s bravery amounted to nothing and it was evident in every piercing word from the medic kunoichi: The only thing you can do for me now is to go get help … Isao let the command fuel him forward despite the pain, until the night faded into morning hours later and the mighty walls of the Sand Village came into view.

He didn’t know how much time had passed and he didn’t wait to scream for help. The Kazekage was not in the village—he had overheard that much. Neither was the teammate that traveled with Miss Haruno. He yelled the only name he could think of, the name his heart still cried out to despite how much he hated him. The roaring sand shrouded his cries, and the prison walls would buffer it completely, but Isao begged to the air, shouting over and over, “FATHER! HELP ME!”

. . . . . . . .

The taste of the chakra pill was bitter, smoky and acrid. The Uchiha almost gagged trying to swallow it down, and he silently confirmed that Sai had been right—although Sasuke hated to agree with anything his entitled replacement said. What had he called them? Mudballs? Despite the accurate term, Sasuke feared his kunoichi companion more than he hated the taste, so he would keep the complaint to himself.

The pill pooled in his stomach and Sasuke took a breath, focusing on the ignition starting in his core. The rush of power was exhilarating as it topped off his chakra supply, overflowing visibly in a blue-purple halo around him. It sizzled along his skin and Sasuke grinned wickedly as a spiraling vortex appeared before him, much larger than any he had been able to create on his own before.

This was it! It was working! He pushed beyond the core dimension easily, his ready supply of chakra speedily fueling the tunnel between the void, but it ate and ate away at his energy and the color disappeared from his skin. Running off his own meager supply now, Sasuke exhaled and grinded his teeth in concentration. Finally, the connection was made and Sasuke threw himself through it.

He landed roughly, skidding to a halt, and he was ironically thankful for once for the Land of Wind’s high volume of sand. Sasuke found himself smirking up at the lightening sky as he recovered, because this was his first victory in a long struggle of jumping dimensions. To the Uchiha, it was proof that he was doing exactly what he was meant to do: beat Kaguya and the Otsusuki clan at their own game in their own territory. Giddy in his success, Sasuke used the last of his dwindling energy to rise to his feet, his thoughts immediately turning to the woman who had helped make this all possible—he hadn’t achieved this on his own; Sakura deserved the credit. And it was the first time that Sasuke could admit that he needed someone else’s help in his goal.

The dark walls of Sunagakure cut the bright morning horizon in half and Sasuke’s gut twisted in a combination of emptiness and guilt at the thought of returning to Sunagakure to face his friend after their… kiss. Sasuke was torn between finding her immediately to tell her that their plan had worked, pretending the kiss never happened in typical Uchiha fashion. But the time he had stolen away from her “to think” brought him to only one conclusion: he needed to apologize—again—and at least explain why. He had made her a promise to be a partner that depended on each other, and here Sakura was continuing to keep that promise, while Sasuke stole moments of happiness and bailed when he had to face the consequences. Suddenly remembering their sunset conversation the last time he had returned after leaving, Sasuke felt a fresh stab to his consciousness as he recalled her statement: “a part of partnership is communication.”

Sasuke slowly made his way toward the village gates. When he passed through the canyon-like entrance, people greeted him with “good mornings” while others stared openly at him. Their gazes were a little different, warmer, and Sasuke wondered if his teammate’s influence in the hospital had something to do with his newreception in Sunagakure now.

Feeling even more ashamed, Sasuke resolved himself for his female companion’s wrath and made a straight line for the hospital.

When he entered the hospital’s double doors, Sasuke came upon a scene that made his stomach drop into his feet. Kankuro, who was haggard from exhaustion, and had apparently returned sometime in the night, was fisting the collar of a hospital staff member.

“What do you mean they’re not here?” he bristled. “If she’s not in her rooms, then she should be here. Where’s Mako? Where’s the kid?”

“I don’t know sir,” came the panicked response from the employee, terrified to be facing the Kazekage’s right-hand man. “I’m sure they’re in the village somewhere.”

Hearing those words had Sasuke acting before thinking and the Uchiha rushed forward to fist the shirt of the same medic. “Are you talking about Sakura?” His eyes darted between the both of them and Kankuro’s grip released from the startled staff’s shirt in the same moment he shoved Sasuke’s own hand away.

“Where the hell have you been?” Kankuro accused icily, and a fire Sasuke didn’t even know he had left in him, surged from his throat in anger.

“What the hell is happening?” he demanded, taking another step toward the puppet wielder.

Kankuro pinched his nose in frustration, then beheld him in shock. “You mean Sakura isn’t with you?”

Sasuke eyes widened in immediate response, an answer refusing to form on his lips. Instead, he shouted, “You don’t know where she is?!”

Kankuro frowned deeper at his sudden animosity. “She hasn’t been seen since yesterday morning,” he explained quickly. “The innkeeper said she never came back to the inn. Mako, another medic, and Sakura’s young patient are missing too.”

Sasuke didn’t wait for any further explanation before he began sprinting up the stairs to the second floor of the hospital, the filter for his behavior now completely removed. Let everyone think what they want! That bastard! When Sasuke got ahold of Mako, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Sasuke’s feet were unusually heavy and his breath labored as he continued climbing to the third floor toward the medicine preparation room they had occupied together only recently.

“Sakura?!” He kicked open the door and furiously searched the vacant room with his eyes. After seeing no one, Sasuke stared at the empty couch where they had sat so close to one another the night before last. As if his memory of her there could recall her, Sasuke gazed openly at it, breathing hard.

Having followed the Uchiha, Kankuro appeared in the door behind him. “We’ve already checked the hospital. She isn’t here. We need to check the rest of the village, quickly!”

She couldn’t be missing. Was she really with that assistant of hers or that child? Were they off somewhere else doing something medical, or were they truly missing? Shit. Shit. Shit.

He turned on Kankuro in his unnerved rage. Sasuke wanted to demand where they had been, he and the Kazekage, but Sasuke remembered that Sakura had told him that they were investigating trouble near the border. He cursed himself again for being selfish and leaving her here alone.

As if reading his thoughts, Kankuro explained, “I was sent back by the Kazekage in the night. He is handling a situation regarding the ninja Sakura said ambushed you both in Tanigakure. The incidents were apparently related.”

“What do you mean?” Sasuke suddenly asked, a deep and cutting sensation coming over Sasuke that he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time: fear.

Kankuro looked down and away from him, debating on how much to reveal. “With some unmentionable methods, we were finally able to find out who their target was,” he finally informed with a sigh. His eyes rose to meet Sasuke’s and the Uchiha saw the same raw fear mirrored in Kankuro’s eyes. “It’s Sakura.”

At the very moment that Sasuke’s knees felt like collapsing beneath his weight, the same staff member that the two ninja had threatened seconds before, came running into the room, panting heavily from having hiked the floors.

“Come quickly,” he urged between breaths, turning immediately to run back down the steps. “Isao has returned.”

Kankuro made eye contact with the Uchiha before they both bolted back down the stairs, taking two and three steps at time. Sasuke cursed his lack of chakra that kept him from just teleporting downstairs.

Sitting in a chair, the child clutched his side. Sasuke noticed that he kept trying to rise, but the staff held him down as they tried to bandage a wound on his arm. Deep purple finger marks circled around the child’s neck like a collar.

“Not me! Her! Go find her, please!” he shouted as he struggled against them.

“Calm down boy,” a woman medic urged. “We have to staunch the flow of blood from your arm.” The child looked at his wound as if he didn’t even know it had been there.

When Isao caught sight of Sasuke and Kankuro, he started to cry. “HELP! Please help!” he shouted, and they quickly moved to hover over the child. Kankuro suddenly kneeled before him, taking the gauze from the medic and wrapped the child’s arm himself as he questioned.

“Speak kid,” Kankuro urged, “What is going on?”

“Miss Haruno,” he choked between tears. “She’s still out there! Please, we have to go!”

Before Kankuro could ask the child why, Sasuke did something appalling, an act that Sakura would be disappointed in him for. His sharingan flashed bright, soaking up the last of his chakra like a sponge, and he caught the panicked child’s stare in his own crimson and purple one.

Just as he had to Isao’s father, Sasuke stepped into the child’s memories. Isao’s recollections were almost too overwhelming for Sasuke to handle at the moment, each image dripping with the fear in which young ones saw the ninja world. There was also bravery in them and familial concern for the pink-haired kunoichi. Sasuke skipped through the memories like speeding up a film, an act that made his head throb in pain. He didn’t care about his own state at the moment though, seeking the green-eyed face of the woman he had come to love.

There. Isao’s most recent memory Sakura was of her telling him “to go get help.” Sasuke didn’t have time to go back further and he let the memories play out from that point, mapping the child’s nighttime desert sprint, hours long, from the empty desert back to the gates of the village.

Not needing to explore the child’s mind further, he released Isao and they both gasped. Sasuke clutched his eye, ignoring the angry glare on Kankuro’s face. He didn’t care about Kankuro’s morals or even the child’s shocked state at that moment. There was only one thing he cared about. He would let the child explain the details to Kankuro; Sasuke didn’t have the time to explain things to Kankuro. Instead, the Uchiha did the unthinkable, playing the very dangerous game of popping another chakra pill into his mouth as he sprinted out the hospital doors.

#approaching sun #approachingsun #sasusaku #Happy Valentine's Day #Sakura Haruno #sasuke and sakura #ssfanfiction #sasusakufanfiction #Sasuke Uchiha #sasukeshinden #sasuke shinden #sakura hiden #naruto fanfiction #narutolightnovels

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cowboyjen68 · 3 years ago

Note

I really appreciate that you have this blog and take the time to answer all sorts of questions from young lesbians like me. I’m from a very catholic homeschooled community so, needless to say, older lgbt folk are hard to come by. I’m older now and luckily mentally out of catholicism but the community is still all around me. I’ve been able to get into contact with the other lgbt ppl from our small community. It’s funny how parents would talk badly about these kids but all it did was teach me who I was safe to talk to! The first lesbian I knew was in the group. She’s only 26 (I’m 21) but I still call her my lesbian grandma lol. I haven’t meet or rlly talked to any lesbian older than her.

I’m newer to your blog but I wonder did you grow up Christian? If the answer is yes, do you have advice on how to stay confident and sane as a lesbian while surrounded by homophobia within your family and community?

I am glad you were able to break out of some of the down right toxic teachings of Catholicism (and many religions in general). I was raised Christian by default. My parents were mostly secular. Dad never said it but he was an atheist with no time for church or ritual. He would talk about "going to heaven" and "god" but mostly because he was always taught that is how to comfort. Mom went to church many 20 times my entire childhood and mostly just because it was "craft bizarre" day or some other event.

I went to Lutheran Church camp with my best friend. My parents sent me to summer bible camp (likely to get me OUT of a few summer days. The summer camps I went to were all generically Christian. I spent from zero to 9 with our Catholic neighbors a lot because my parents worked full time and Jackie was home. They took me to church and church functions. My brother and his wife became born again when I was in my teens and I went to their (crazy) church and heard their religious opinions A LOT. I have a minor in religion because I was fascinated but the age of 18 how people could buy such utter bullshit (in my mind at 18) and never question the cognitive dissonance between belief and reality.

I was raised in a small town and it was very Catholic and Christian so even with my ability to see the flaws (since I had no real attachment) and went through a period where I was like "Yeah.. Jesus is my friend...he is like this cool hippy guy who will get me to heaven". I saw my Aunt Harriet being cared for in her older age by her church and the community it provided and saw the good side of religions.

My brother in law is a minister of Missouri Synod Lutherans. They do NOT like the gays. My brother is a "love the sinner hate the sin" kind of dude. My other brother was a pot smoking hippy with several college degrees (24 years older than me) and he was like.. "in humans homosexuality is unnatural. It makes no sense because we have sex to procreate" So yeah, I heard the crap from outside and from my own world and from those older siblings who were supposed to be my role models. Eventually I figured out, older does not mean wiser or more sympathetic. MY sister is my biggest cheerleader and I never give her enough credit for her willingness to go head to head with other siblings (she is 20 years older) and for always knowing I was a lesbian.. before I did.

In college I surrounded myself with mostly bi women and gay men. I was a bit afraid of lesbians (didn't want to be guilty by association) Many of them came from much more adverse conditions than I did and here they were (especially the gay men) living life out in the world (not that they did not have fear and even self hate and destructive behaviors--they did--but they were doing their best).

My friends knew I was a lesbian even if I didn’t admit it until after college. But it was that “found family” that allowed me to at least go begin to meet other lesbians and soon that connection to older lesbians let me start saying the word “lesbian” and go from there. They showed me the many ways we exist and how celebrating being a lesbian was not always waving the rainbow flag at gay pride. Sometimes it was gathering with other lesbians in a back yard or at a restaurant and enjoying the friendship of those who understand.

Basically i learned that I am a lesbian whether the world likes it or not. If I am alone in the woods forever... still a lesbian. I don’t need the opinions of others to know exactly who I am, who I want to be, so I found people who did like who I was. I still love my brother but I don’t need to spend time and energy on him. When I can hang out with a bunch of lesbians and roast marshmallows.

#religion #family #lesbian #homophobia

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fanfiction-funtime · 3 years ago

Text

Self insert oc: Alexander Vodka

AKA: Eis Cay'zar

Author of fate

A writer from Schneznaya who was driven from his home for his anti-Tsaritsa paper.

_____________________

Physical description:

A chubby fellow in a 1950's style noir trenchcoat and hat, some would even say he looks like he jumped right out of a noir comic book and into reality. He has brown hair and green eyes, a cowboy mustache, and a pointed beard like some kind of comic book supervillain genius.

He often acts confidently and even a bit egotistical when in places he's recognized and famous in, however in newer places he often seems distant and shys away from almost all contact.

Noone knows where his vision is, but they know he has one because of the cold aura that surrounds him.

At night he'll often trade his outfit for one more reminiscent of demons or vampires.

_____________________

Abilities:

Weapon type: Catalyst

Basic attack-truth: uses his catalyst to shoot a short burst of up to 3 ice shards, can attack in fast succession.

"Truth hurts, especially in bursts"

Charged attack-Bifrost: Alexander quickly makes an ice clone behind the enemy and fires 6 shots, this can increase to 3 clones if charged enough(times: 1 for 1 second, 2 for 2 seconds, and 3 for 2.5 seconds)

"I hate crowds, best company has always been myself"

Elemental ability-ice wall: creates an aura of sheer cold around himself that will damage enemies the more they stay in it, and apply the normal sheer cold to them. Does not affect party.

"My therapist said I put up walls because of trauma, but I couldn't hear them through the wall I had just built"

Elemental burst-a story to be told: Alexander takes out his book and opens to a random page, then randomly summons ice sculptures of one of 8 beings:

"Aster": this summon looks like the flatwoods monster, it surrounds the party in a swirl of ice blades that deal 2X damage as the character for 10 seconds.

"Who needs brawn, when you got brain"

"Ultimate foe": a demonic, pointy being of shadow. Will independently deal 25000 damage to three random foes.

"Meet my penultimate friend"

"Beethoven": a sculpture reminiscent of a ww1 zombie general, calls down a barrage of ice bombs that deal 5000 damage to enemies hit for 7 seconds.

"Good scifi doesn't predict, it prevents"

"Sorrows Joy": an angelic, faceless, robot like humanoid that spawns 25 angel shaped traps that freeze enemies around the character.

"With any luck, you're the only real one I've made"

"Death rider and the magic prince": two statues, one of a mummy like Schneznayan mystic of ancient barbarian times and the other an elven cavalry knight from the myths of mondstadt. The knight gives the party a 45% boost to speed and attack while moving, and the Schneznayan gives +10% damage bonus to elemental skills and +55% damage bonus to Catalyst.

"Feel the wrath of honor long passed"

"Zero point and Lion queen": a knightly man of spiked armor and a golden ottoman warrior woman whose golden chain completely obscures her head. Your enemies become inflicted with pyro and you are surrounded by thorn bushes that deal continuous damage of 1000 for 10 seconds.

"Walk down the way on a moonlit day"

The traveler: a child in a red straight jacket, his binds become undone after 4 seconds at which point all enemies take 10,000 X Alexander's level of damage.

"I uh,wont have to pay any copyrights will I?"

"Giota": a child in pyjamas who looks ready to sleep, this summon is very rare. It fully restores all party members and gives a 200% boost to both defense and damage of your characters.

"This fella's been with me since I was a kid"

"If it is a soldier's duty to escape the confines of a prison, is it not every person's duty to escape reality if even for a moment? A wise man said that, pray that I may one day be like him."

Passive-part the wasteland: Alexander is immune to sheer elements, and Grant's 50% resistance when in the party to all members.

_____________________

Story

Abandoning a dream

As a kid, Alexander was always put down when he said he wanted to write fiction, "there's no money in it" they all said.

He couldn't get into any art schools without support so he focused his mind elsewhere, a place he could hopefully use his writing to do just as much good: the first newspaper in Schneznaya.

Horrible truth

He didn't start as a trouble maker, but the more he sought out the truth the more he couldn't stand back and watch. He published numerous papers about the Tsarista's wrongdoings and the crimes of the fatui, how they would harass merchants in other nations, the unfair taxes many shipping businesses had to keep quiet about, all the way up to the war crimes the Tsarista had done in direct contradiction to her own laws.

Sadly, not many believed him even with evidence, but some got his message.

Those who fight

One day Alexander was approached by a man who claimed to have formed a resistance against the fatui. Alexander had inspired many people to disrupt the organization, and have even begun working with those outside Schneznaya.

With their help he didn't just publish some crimes, he published them all, he even got information that turned the general public against the fatui even if just a little.

In a way h had achieved his dream of helping others with his writing, even if it wasn't how he wanted.

Stop the presses

When the Tsarista started her big move of taking gnosis, she brought the hammer down on dissent like a boulder on a ten year old's wrist. One day a squad of thirty fatui stormed Alexander's home and business to silence him, and while they shut down his business they couldn't catch him.

Alexander fled into the wastelands of ice and snow and wasn't seen for several weeks.

Deus ex Vodka

One day Alexander showed up in Inazuma, a nation that had been oppressed for some time now and had recently reached it's height, yet no resistance had formed.

That was until Alexander came along.

Alexander published numerous books, spreading them throughout Inazuma. All of them spoke of freedom, of bravery, of rising up to achieve your ambitions.

And with those stories he inspired countless to take up arms, and in turn inspired countless to join the resistance.

And with mere fiction he had brought about hope,

And with mere fiction he shall do it again, in every form, and in every nation.

Vision: cold hearted

While wondering the waste Alexander fell down and looked to the skies.

He did not ask celestia why, he did not grieve or blame that he did not do more, instead Alexander did something he hadn't done in a long time:

He imagined.

And after he imagined he took out his notebook and wrote. In the freezing cold for seventeen days he wrote stories of hope and freedom.

For seventeen days the cold did not so much as cause him to flinch as he wrote tales of bravery.

For seventeen days Alexander Vodka lived how he wanted to live.

And at the end, he lied down to die.

Then a light shown, and when he opened his eyes to look he saw that the storm parted around him, and in his hand was an ice blue gem.

But Alexander was too paranoid from years of abuse from his peers as a child to wear it loosely, and far to extra to just get a lock. So instead Alexander shouted to celestia "if I shall have this Vision for my art, then it shall not kill me no matter what I do!"

He then shoved the vision into his heart and fell down.

Before he could bleed out however, a woman appeared.

"Hey Tsari, how ya doin." Alexander said as blood poured out his mouth.

"You dramatic fool," the Tsarista sighed as she put a hand on his chest, "you have my element, do you know how bad it'll look for me if you die by shoving your vision into your heart?"

"Why do you care? We hate eachother, in case you forgot."

The archon sighed, "you're just rebelling against what you see as unjust, just as I am. To be honest I feel a sort of rivalry with you, so it'd be a shame if you just died. Also," she painfully shoved the vision all the way in, painfully, "if your going to die it better be because of me, got it?"

Then Alexander sat up, and the god was gone. Along with the hole in his chest.

"Rival of a god eh?" He sat up, putting his gat back on his head, "I like the sound of that."

_____________________

How is this an insert?

Well his story can't be the exact same as mine, so I took my life and goals and made predictions, then fictionalized those predictions and expanded.

His appearance is pretty close to how I'll likely look based on my current appearance, and his dramatic attitude is exactly how I wanna act.

Him being shy in new places with strangers is me exactly as I am now really, however I do believe I'd act confidently if I were famous so he does as well.

Him being Catalyst is because I'm not athletic at all, and I figured a dps Catalyst would be cool. His main ability and resistance/immunity to sheer cold is based on how I wrap up in warm blankets when it's cold, and his ultimate is made up of characters I've made.

_____________________

Tagging: @genshin-obsessed, @golden-wingseos, @storytravelled, and @love-psxlm

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin oc

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ratingtheframe · 4 years ago

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I Care A Lot, Malcolm & Marie, Capone, The Life Ahead and the News of the World: Everything I watched in February.

Newsflash ! The cinemas still aren’t open and I’m starting to lose hope in them ever opening. Despite the UK government drawing a step by step guide into lifting the UK out of lockdown (like its flat pack furniture and not a critical pandemic) with cinemas due to open in April, I wouldn’t hold my breath seeing as our own human biology and its resistance is the actual measure of when it is safe to go out and about, not what our government says. So until everyone is vaccinated and has sustained the first few months of vaccination symptom free, I’m having to sift through Netflix and Amazon for something to watch, like I’m looking through a charity shop sale; without much luck. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for these streaming services, I (my dad) pay for them for Christ’s sakes and I know that one day I’ll be eating my words when I’m offered a Netflix deal that I (in a Vito Corleone voice) “cannot refuse”. However, unlike some of the creators on Netflix, I’ll make the most of this opportunity and be incredibly anal about what I want to make, even if it kills me.

I feel like so many people are given the license to make whatever they want for Netflix and then I look at the trophy wall of Emmys that HBO has garnered over the years and consider their quality writers and casts. I would say most recently, shows like The Crown, Sex Education, Top Boy and Bridgerton are Netflix’s exceptions currently, being both of quality and giving us something we actually want to watch. And guess what all these shows have in common?! Not only are all the casts largely British but all productions of these shows are British too. The British quality of TV programmes for streaming services in the US is a win win for all; Americans get to watch our good quality TV and we get Golden Globes. Most notably, The Crown did exceptionally (as it always does) at this year’s Golden Globes, further proving the show's excellence despite controversy. I thoroughly praise Netflix's resistance to label the show “fiction” and the lengths it took in making the show as authentically as possible, despite the criticism. The awards speak for themselves and the Crown has scooped up several this year so far.

To conclude, I want the cinemas to open just as much as anyone, but I’m happy to comply with the stay-at-home-and-watch-Netflix-rule for now. For now...Here’s everything I watched this February.

Annihilation (2018) as seen on Netflix

Netflix’s Annihilation starring Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Lee, Gina Rodriguez, Tessa Thompson and Oscar Issac was a multitude of things that were difficult to comprehend. This is not me saying this is a bad film, in fact its me saying the complete opposite as the complexity drew a tangible beauty to the film from beginning to end. I reeeaaalllyyy liked the beginning and how the first scene sucked you into the crazy and fanatical story that later unfolded. Natalie Portman as always was wonderful in this role, playing a biologist who enters another world in search of her husband, who’s gone missing on a similar expedition to hers. Like with most sci fi films, it was difficult to gather the meaning of such a film, however this lack of meaning didn’t draw away from the story or how it was portrayed, in slow and enigmatic shots that told the story with a natural pace. If you’ve seen / liked Ex Machina (2014), Annihilation has the same director and I would thoroughly recommend you watch this too as the way Alex Garland merges sci fi with horror is incredibly seamless.

Score: 10/10

Eastern Promises (2007) as seen on Amazon Prime

This film starring Naomi Watts, Viggo Mortensen and Vincent Cassel was incredibly dark and gritty. Even though I’m not Russian, I found Mortensen and Cassel’s Russian personas to be rather good for a Dane and a Frenchman. Their on screen chemistry was also really good and its make me wonder why I haven’t seen a film with these two in it before. The story follows Anna (Naomi Watts) a nurse and her hunt for the true identity and life of a baby that was born to a 14 year old girl. Nikolai and Kirill (Mortensen and Cassel) are Russian gangsters living in London and set about covering up this obscene scandal and getting rid of the product of it, a baby girl belonging to the condemned and now deceased child. It's a difficult plot to wrap your head around and like I said, it's incredibly dark. Actor and director David Cronenberg (A History of Violence 2005) directed this film and helped Viggo Mortensen with a nomination for Best Actor at the 2008 Academy Awards.

Score: 8/10

Fifty Shades of Grey (2015) as seen on Netflix

So remember how I said I was DESPERATE for films this month...I watched Fifty Shades of Grey with zero expectations and I can say definitively that it was worse than I thought. It's a true miracle that both Dakota Johnson and Jamie Dornan still have careers 6 years after such a film was released and I personally wouldn’t rush to cast either acting in my film after seeing this. Harsh, I know but reputation is everything and when you sign onto something that instead of highlighting your acting abilities, highlights your body parts, what am I supposed to think... I’m all for body confidence and what not, but I feel like most of this film sort of abuses sexuality and sexual expressions. The fact is, the BDSM part of this film wasn’t even that bad, it was the characters that pissed me off the most and their LACK of character in fact. They were orchestrated in such a flat way and the only time where either one of them found any character was through the sex itself and the discussion of it, especially Anastasia’s character. The most profound and irritating thing about this film is that Anastasia’s life seemed to only have meaning when she met the so called handsome, charming, wonderful, drop dead gorgeous Christian Grey. What does that teach us about women people? I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, sexualising women in film and media shouldn’t be the only reason for them to be there. And the entirety of Fifty Shades of Grey is built upon that fact. Even though the novel was written by a woman, it definitely missed the point in giving us a strong female character who could both be into sex and taken seriously at the same time. Seems like a really hard thing to do in cinema as filmmakers either go for the over-hyped sexualised prostitute, the caring mother or the nun. Like female professionals have never had sex in their lives… think again. I like to wonder what it would’ve been like had it been Ms Grey and Christian as her submissive. Not only would that mix up the character dynamic and go against gender confirmation, it’d actually be interesting. But maybe I should just write that story altogether...To conclude, the characters in this film were flat and the entirety of the film hyped up sex and the act of it way too much. It's like making a film about walking or breathing.

Score: 1/10

Malcolm & Marie (2021) as seen on Netflix

Malcolm & Marie received a lot of attention in the media and sadly not for the right reasons. In fact, what’s so childish about the backlash is that hardly any of it had to do with the filmmaking techniques Sam Levinson (Euphoria’s creator) used or the story he wrote. More of it had to do with Levinson’s controversial ideas about how the media likes to view and prod film like a goldfish in a bowl, acting ostentatiously towards the art and appearing woke as opposed to just seeing film for how it is. I gather many film critic’s egos were bruised when Levinson used the lead character, Malcolm (John David Washington) as a butcher to film critics. He says things like “I’m choosing to make a film that’s fundamentally political, but not everything I do is political because I’m Black” in reference to the ignorance of some film critics who stamp politics onto any black directed film, attempting to brand the films with their own understanding of the film as opposed to its real message and story. Malcolm spends the majority of the night loathing a fictional “white LA reporter” and betting on her exact words for his own film, about an African American woman trying to get off drugs. What he says is funny, so funny it's true. White reporters DO do this and instead of embracing Levinson’s satricalism, the real LA white reporters of our media got overly offended and used the “lack of story” card as a backdrop to fuel their distaste at being called out. Had they known Levinson’s intentions with this film, they wouldn’t have reviewed it all together as I’m sure Levinson knew what he was getting himself into when mentioning the annoying “white LA reporter” and making the stereotype central to the lead's frustrations towards the industry. Levinson also graciously mentions that even though Malcolm has such hatred towards the critics, he is their fuel and by making his so-called “art” he only joins them in the argument . Levinson made his bed when he made the film and I think he’s sleeping rather comfortably. No one even bothered to praise both Zendaya’s and Washington’s performances, which were phenomenal considering the circumstances and the added pressure of having to carry a whole story in one room using only each other to fulfil that story. The cinematography was ambitious and overall, it was a simple yet well executed story. What are y’all complaining about?

Let's put egos aside and focus on the actual film for once, rather than how its perceived the articulation of your opinions towards it.

Score: 10/10

Coming to America (1988) as seen on Amazon Prime

At this moment I truly was becoming a slave to streaming services. I wasn’t particularly leaping at the opportunity to watch this film, however I chose to watch it as I heard that Eddie Murphy was releasing a sequel this year. As someone who doesn’t like comedy, I found this rather funny in places but it's hard to laugh at the black stereotypes portrayed in such a film even when those stereotypes were perpetuated by a black person. There was also a lot of misogyny, something else that I don’t call comedy but just misogyny. I found it hard overlook these moments and kinda saw this element as the downfall to the film which detracted from any of the other comedic moments.

Score: 5/10

Do the Right Thing (1989) as seen on Amazon Prime

One of Spike Lee’s earlier films, Do The Right Thing is a film I’ve been dying to watch for quite some time. The film is like a fascinating book, with chapters on each of the plights of living in Brooklyn in the 1980s. Though it takes one character’s perspective, there are a multitude of other stories that can be found in this film, with them interlinking seamlessly and coming together at the end. This isn’t a film about race but rather one about anger and its potential to divide people, especially when things become heated and fingers are pointed. It covered a variety of perspectives which I like, almost like an episodic series where each episode is different and takes on a different character. This structure added variety to the film and allowed it to cover a multitude of topics in a small space of time. The structure of this film was only successful because its characters, who were funny, three dimensional and above all, had something to say. Director and writer Spike Lee played Mookie, the lead, a pizza delivery man and quite the f**k up on the streets of Brooklyn, using his mouth more than his actions to get by in life. I really liked the balance of moments of comedy and severity which had me laughing in places and immediately stopping afterwards. Well written and I commend Spike Lee for having written, directed and starred in the same film.

Score: 10/10

The Life Ahead (2020) as seen on Netflix

As an actress, Sophia Loren is one of my all time favourites. On seeing films such as A Special Day (1977) Two Women (1960) Marriage, Italian Style (1964), I began to appreciate the work of Sophia Loren and notice how much of an icon she still is today. Having picked up several awards over an expansive 71 YEAR career, she has been honoured many a time by the Golden Globes and Oscars as one of the finest actresses of all time. Her presence on screen is inspiring and she’s been often referred to as the Italian Marilyn Monroe for her beauty inside and out. Here at the age of 86, she plays a Holocaust survivor and foster mother who cares for a troubled boy in The Life Ahead. Loren’s character, Madame Rosa, eventually saving him from a miserable life thieving and selling drugs on the streets of Italian. Loren’s son, Edoardo Ponti directed this film for Netflix and was generous enough to give us Sophia Loren’s presence on screen once more by casting her in the film as the lead.

Score: 9/10

Gold (2016) as seen on Amazon Prime

I found Gold to be one of those talky, talky films that starts at the end and ends at the end (if that makes sense) which in my opinion isn’t the most courageous structure one could use, but is common in biopics. It either starts on the protagonist’s death bed or at the point where the police have just caught them and for Gold it was the latter. The appearance of women in this film was second to none and that’s not me saying the director should’ve added female characters for good measure or token but why make a film that only appeals to one demographic, despite the intensity of the story...film is universal after all and if a film appeals to one certain group then what’s the point of releasing it? This doesn’t detract from Matthew McConaughey’s performance though as a “prospector” looking for gold in Indonesia. Even saying this, the character was very typical of him and it didn’t truly stretch his ability as an actor, not like Dallas Buyer’s Club (2013), Killer Joe (2011) or Interstellar (2014) did. To sum up Gold into one word it’d be “meh”.

Score: 7/10

Creed (2015) as seen on Amazon Prime

This was one of the most surprising films of the month. I’m not crazy about the Rocky films nor see myself watching all of them anytime soon, but Creed appealed as a more modern take on the hit franchise. Michael B Jordan plays Adonis Creed, son of Apollo Creed, a champion boxer who died during a fight before Adonis was born. After being adopted by Apollo’s wife, Adonis Creed sets out to follow his father’s footsteps by becoming a champion heavyweight boxer himself, much to his maternal mother’s displeasure and his coach’s the one and only Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone). The story is similar to that of Rocky and if anything, is a complete revival, using the son of one of Rocky’s former fighter as a backdrop to tell the story. Director Ryan Coogler (Black Panther 2018, Fruitvale Station 2013 ) brought this story to life and a courageous performance out of Michael B. Jordan. Not only was I fascinated by boxing by the end of the film, but just the whole idea of Adonis Creed, a fighter and not a quitter who thoroughly believes in pursuing your goals until they are obtained. Not only is this film for boxing fans but for those who share that same universal message and refuse to give into their own inhibitions to achieve great things. We should look to athletes more often in this respect and consider the pursuit of our own desires as boxing matches and marathon races more often as it helps put our fight into perspective and teaches us never to give in.

Score: 11/10

Arrival (2016) as seen on DVD

Before anyone comes for me for not having seen Arrival, before I was a movie buff I had briefly come across the film several times but had never taken the time to sit it out and watch it from beginning to end. I’m glad I did as Denis Villeneuve is one of my favourite directors evah and along with Christopher Nolan, I consider him as the King of Sci Fi. Every single one of his films is incroyable (as the french say) and it's a mystery why he hasn’t been handed an Oscar yet. Arrival is this slow and beautiful story of a linguistics teacher (Amy Adams) who agrees to help on a mission to communicate with extraterrestrial life forms that have landed on planet earth in the form of twelve huge spaceships. Structure isn’t something we typically consider when watching a film, but it plays such an important part in Arrival for time and the manipulation of it is the main theme of this film. Essentially, the language in which Dr. Banks translates from the intelligent life form gives its readers the ability to see into the future, which is when we come to realize that she’ll have a child, who will die of an unnamed disease. Despite this fact, she decides to live the life fate intended for her. The reason why Arrival is a highly credible film is because of the coverage it has as a film in terms of what it's trying to say as a film. From someone who finds it hard to bring out the emotion of a screenplay, Arrival is a great example to me as a film that combines both a cinematic feeling and a strong emotional presence throughout the film. It doesn’t abandon emotions or relationships just because the film is about aliens, but instead embraces them into the story and intertwines them with the aliens who’ve come to planet earth. At the end of the day, we can have explosions, spaceships and aliens galore, but if we’re unable to connect with characters on an emotional level then the film becomes boring. Arrival is far from boring and may bring a tear or two to your eye by the end.

Score: 11/10

The News of the World (2020) as seen on Netflix

I feel like it's impossible to hate a film with Tom Hanks in it and The News of the World definitely fits into that. Five years after the US Civil War, Cpt. Jefferson Kyle Kidd (Tom Hanks) spends his days travelling around the US ‘reading the news’ to anyone who’s willing to listen. The majority of the US was illiterate in the 19th Century, meaning it was up to people like Jefferson to inform others of the ongoings in the world by reading them the paper. It’s a wondrous thing to think about, how information was once spread throughout the world in such an archaic format. Jefferson did this off his own back, not asking for much and finding fulfilment in the reactions to the news that he “broadcasted” to them. Whilst on his travels, Jefferson comes across a young girl (Golden Globe nominee Helena Zengal) who’s negro family had been killed by lynchers. The girl was originally from a Native American tribe but had been separated by them, leaving her to fend for herself. When Jefferson comes across her, he’s reluctant to take her in at first but decides to take her to some relatives across the country. It’s definitely the role you expect of Tom Hanks and his heart warming nature is captured for us in this film for Netflix.

Score: 9/10

The Mask (1994) as seen on Netflix

It's hard for me to label The Mask as a good film as that would mean shaking off the horrendous amount of misogyny it has and the lack of diversity within its characters. Films mean different things for people, but ultimately most of them reflect an element of humanity and explore it on screen with originality and authenticity. Cameron Diaz’s character was only there to fulfil the sexual appetites of the men around her, which is something I loathe in female characters. Originality The Mask has, authenticity, not so much. That's probably the reason why I hate comedies so much, most of them are written by men and are about men so it can get quite boring to watch at times. I liked the idea of The Mask but it definitely could’ve been executed in a less misogynistic way.

Score: 5/10

Jackie (2016) as seen on Amazon Prime

One word; perfection. This film was hands down one of the most beautiful, genuine and honest films I’ve seen in my entire life. It had me reminiscing Todd Haynes’ Carol (2015) in a number of ways, from the similar filmmaking techniques to the slow and melancholy atmosphere that was being created on screen. The AMAZING Natalie Portman plays Jackie Kennedy, wife of John F. Kennedy who was brutally assassinated on a visit to Dallas, Texas in 1963. The fact that I didn’t even KNOW that his poor wife was in the car with him at the point of the assassination is shocking. On watching the film, I learnt Jackie was a remarkable, brave and intelligent woman who after her husband's death put so much into preserving her husband’s legacy despite his lack of popularity. The way the film is shot and the music by the brilliant Mica Levi (Under the Skin 2013 , Monos 2019) just ties everything together into a enigmatic and wonderful film. Natalie Portman was nominated for Best Actress at the 2017 Academy Awards and rightly so. This film has further proven my thoughts on her as one of the greatest actresses of our time. I seriously cannot EXPRESS how much I love this film, directed by Chilean director Pablo Larraín, who’s also made another film that I can’t get enough of Ema, which was released 2 years ago.

Score: 12/10

Foxcatcher (2014) as seen on BBC iPlayer

When we first think of Steve Carell, our minds probably drift to his most notable performance as Michael Scott from The Office or even Gru in Despicable Me. It's rare for a so called “comedy” actor to find his way into films with a more dramatic substance and over the last few years, this is what Carell has been showing us on screen, with this role in Foxcatcher and more recently, in Felix van Groeningen’s Beautiful Boy (2018). Foxcatcher is the true story of a wrestler offered the opportunity to train with a private wrestling team owned by a huge chemical corporation. Channing Tatum plays Mark Schultz, a quiet and reserved wrestler who trains alongside his brother David (Mark Ruffalo), also a champion wrestler. What's sad to see in this twisted story is how validated Mark feels once the powerful and wealthy John Du Pont (Steve Carrell) begins to take an interest in him and takes him under his wing. This relationship drives a wedge between Mark and his brother David, but much to John’s displeasure, it doesn’t last long. This is definitely a story of power and how people can react in bad ways when they are owed too much of it. Every performance in this was astounding and the slow and subtle telling of the story was truly beautiful to watch. Foxcatcher is a film I’ve been dying to watch for some time and it DID NOT disappoint. Period. The film was also nominated for five Oscars back in 2015, including Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor.

Score: 11/10

In Fabric (2018) as seen on BBC iPlayer

Based on the current reviews of In Fabric, I deem the film a poncy experimental spectacle. Not only did it not say much, but what it was trying to say was rather disturbing and quite frankly bizarre. However, it's not a film I can necessarily hate on as it is experimental, meaning from the get go, I shouldn’t be expecting any sort of clear cut narrative, with relationships, protagonists, conflict or hierarchies. Experimental films are more about exploring a central idea and having all its “characters'' not essentially prove the idea, but just talk about it, like a debate but everyone agrees in the end. A debate where everyone agrees would be boring, which is why I find experimental films to be boring as most of the time they don’t have a meaning and sadly as humans, we’re obsessed with finding the meaning of things or else we’ll go crazy. And I would say this film definitely left me crazy at the end, proving the idea of man’s constant need to find meanings in things. In Fabric wasn’t really relatable, funny, clever or bold. It kinda just...was.

Score: 5/10

Delicatessen (1991) as seen on DVD

I love how the world likes to think that the American film market is the only film market when in actuality the French created the actual concept of cinema and the idea to project “movies” onto a large screen. With this has come a plethora of incredible movies from France that have gone onto to change the film industry forever. There’s a reason why the most prestigious and exclusive film festival in the entire world is held in the South of France and not LA. Jean-Pierre Jeunet is the auteur behind Amélie (2001) one of the most well known independent films ever to be made and before Amélie came Delicatessen. This film is Tim Burton meets Wes Anderson but in French and tells the story of a man working for a butcher and the crazy characters he meets in the same apartment as him. By the end it's clear that The Butcher is selling more than pork and beef down in his store and that the new tenant is due to be the next item on sale. I loved how weird and larger than life the characters were and the otherworldly set design used for this film. There were so many moments that are quite hard to explain the beauty of them and if you’ve seen Wes Anderson or Tim Burton’s work, you’ll notice the similarities between this film and their work, perhaps showing a french influence on the current American market.

Score: 10/10

Amélie (2001) as seen on DVD

Continuing on with the French theme, I was reminded this month of the beauty of Amélie. Every, single, shot in this film is pure perfection and I bet all my money that Wes Anderson was a mega fan of this film when it came out. It's truly a film like none other and it’s only this time around did I realise how much I RELATE to Amélie. The way she sacrifices herself for others and gets nothing in return, the lengths she goes to tell someone something instead of JUST SAYING IT, her lack of friends, I can definitively say that there isn’t a character on screen that I’ve related to more than Amélie (besides Elio from cmbyn). If you haven’t seen Amélie have a word with yourself.

Score: 11/10

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) as seen on Amazon Prime

Pan’s Labyrinth was a surprisingly amazing film and I wonder why I hadn’t seen it sooner. I was astounded to see it was in Spanish which I thought made the story somehow better. It's rare that we see such high budget and well known film that’s in a foreign language but I’m glad this film got the noise it did when it was released. Guillermo del Toro (The Shape of Water 2017) tells us the story of 10 year old Ofelia and her discovery of magical creatures in the woods that inhabit the outskirts of her new home. Not only that but it’s 1944. The Spanish Civil War has been over for five years but small groups of guerrilla rebels continue to fight against the new fascist dictatorship led by Francisco Franco. This is a well structured film that shows two strong worlds and combines them in a satisfying way, which isn’t an easy thing as sometimes films can get lost in the facts of history instead of the emotions and dynamic relationships. The set design in this was UNREAL as always and I really felt for the characters and their given circumstances. And that’s what we call a film.

Score: 11/10

I Care A Lot (2021) as seen on Amazon Prime

For a full review of I Care A Lot, follow the link: https://ratingtheframe.tumblr.com/post/643763403606867968/a-strong-performance-from-rosamund-pike-that-we

Score: 8/10

Interview with a Vampire (1994) as seen on BBC iPlayer

We were doing SO WELL until I made the costly decision to watch this waffle of a film, directed by Neil Jordan. Not only was the story all over the place, but the dialogue itself was incredibly on the nose and self explanatory throughout. It feels like there was more talking about the film instead of showing the film, which just made me switch off from early on in the film. I hated the casting of Tom Cruise in this and there were moments when I believed his character, but none of them outweighed the overarched and over bearing performance he was attempting to give. Brad Pitt was marginally better but the performance of Kirsten Dunst who was 12 years old at the time this film was released, outdid both actors. She was the only character that I truly felt for / cared about and her on screen presence was both enviable and wise beyond her years. Personally, I can’t explain what this film was even about because I truly didn’t get what was going on, however if you’re a fan of Kirsten Dunst’s work, this would be a suitable film to watch in that respect.

Score: 4/10

Fargo (1996) as seen on Amazon Prime

Fargo is probably most known as a Netflix series, but before that, it was originally a film directed by the Coen Brothers and starred the likes of Frances McDormand, Steve Buscemi, William H Macy and John Carroll Lynch. I’ve been meaning to watch Fargo for quite some time and I was not disappointed with the outcome of it. It's one of those good old fashioned crime films, with lots of twists and blood split throughout the film. The film won two Oscars in 1997; one for Best Actress which was handed to Frances McDormand playing a police officer investigating a string of murders in Minnesota and another for Best Original Screenplay. A really well constructed story with a fantastic cast and great cinematography work from Roger Deakins (1917 (2020), Blade Runner 2049 (2017) The Shawshank Redemption (1994).

Score: 10/10

The Darjeeling Limited (2007) as seen on Amazon Prime

The Darjeeling Limited further proves to us Wes Anderson’s ability to create entire new worlds and show us stories that take place all across the world. Three brothers, Peter (Adrien Brody), Jack (Jason Schwartzman) and Francis (Owen Wilson) have travelled to India in an attempt to bond with one another “spiritually” after the death of their father. Peter and Jack aren’t too keen on this little expedition, irritated at their brothers' intrusiveness over the trip. The majority of the film is set on this fanatical train travelling across India and yet again, we are blessed with some phenomenal production design to tell us a fun and uplifting story. What’s more is that the boys’ mother (Anjelica Huston) lives in India as a nun at the foot of the Himalayas. This becomes the real reason for their venture and such a thing changes the character dynamics between the three men. India is shown in all its beauty in this film using the backdrop of three men’s relationship with one another as a story.

Score: 9/10

The Life Aquatic of Steve Zissou (2004) as seen on DVD

Another one of Wes Anderson’s lesser known films but equally as good as the rest, this film follows a group of marine explorers travelling across the pacific to try and kill a shark that supposedly ate a member of Steve Zissou (Bill Murray) ’s crew. With an all star cast composed of Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, Cate Blanchett, Jeff Goldblum and Anjelica Huston this film was entertaining, enlightening and cinematographically ambitious. Steve Zissou is a fictional character who makes a living off of extreme and dangerous marine explorations. He makes films of his travels using his crew and after screening his latest film, he meets a young man (Owen Wilson) claiming to be his son. Evidently, Zissou is reluctant to accept that this man is his son and uses his presence as financial gain to the project. I appreciated all performances in this film and the set design (as always with Anderson’s films) was exceptional.

Score: 9/10

Life of Pi (2012) as seen on Amazon Prime

A highly visual and emotional film that carries beauty throughout in both performance and story, Life of Pi was directed by Brokeback Mountain (2005)’s Ang Lee and tells the story of Pi (Suraj Sharma and Irrfan Khan) a young boy alone in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with a fully grown Bengal Tiger. Winner of 4 Academy Awards including Best Director at the 2013 Academy Awards, this film does a phenomenal job of reminding us why cinema is such a superior and infinite art form. Pi’s family are on their way from India to America, exporting a large number of their zoo animals in hope of selling them once they reach the other side of the world. After a horrendous storm ravages their cargo ship, Pi is left all alone in the ocean with what only appears to be a small dingy, but to his horror, he comes to find that the zoo’s tiger Richard Parker is keeping him company in the middle of the ocean. Now if that ain’t a viable story, then I don’t know what is. To make a film look like it was set in the middle of a Pacific and with a Bengal Tiger is no small feat. Suraj Sharma’s performance was both truthful and powerful, despite the film being mostly shot in a studio with nothing but animation for Richard Parker. This is one of very few films that does the original novel justice.

Score: 11/10

Capone (2021) as seen on Netflix

Yikes. Capone has not been getting a lot of love in the media since its release on Netflix on 24th February. Personally, it's not the most god awful, offensive film I’ve seen and yet I wouldn’t have been the one to have made such a film either. The film is supposed to depict the last year of the infamous and notorious Al Capone, who suffered from numerous illnesses at only the age of 48. Tom Hardy plays the blood thirsty gangster and I have to say, this was a thoughtless casting choice. Hardy doesn’t have an ounce of Italian in his face and he put on this larger than life caricature of an accent that had me feeling rather sorry for him at moments when I shouldn’t have been. The acting was exceptional, but believable and interesting? That’s another argument altogether. Cinematography and sound wise, I thought the film was excellent in those respects but again, those should be additions to the integral story of a film. I get why Hardy signed up though, what actor wouldn’t want to play a mob boss? Maybe the point of Al’s life in which this film was built upon was perhaps wrong for the screen and I’m sure most would have preferred Hardy to play Capone at his peak. This film is a clear example of people getting ahead of themselves when they first explore an idea for a film. This film could have easily been saved in the development stage had someone said let’s not do this.

Score: 5/10

Creed II (2018) as seen on Amazon Prime

Obviously a prequel will always outdo a sequel, however I found Creed II to be just as meaningful as the first film. Maybe even more so as Adonis Creed (Michael B Jordan) is becoming a father his responsibilities have shifted dramatically. He’s also desperate to fight Viktor Drago, a Ukrainian ruthless boxer whose father accidentally killed Creed’s father in a match decades before. Drago is tough, beyond what he and his coach Rocky (Sylvester Stallone) could ever imagine and because of this, it drives a wedge between Adonis’ relationship with his coach. Creed thinks Rocky doesn’t believe he can beat Drago but Rocky insists not fighting the bull of a boxer would benefit him greatly, after all, look what happened to his father. The character dynamics have shifted in this sequel, but the structure has remained largely the same. We kind of knew what we were being served at the end and the change in character was there for everyone.

Score: 10/10

...and that’s it! Everything I watched this February, you do not want to KNOW how long this list took to compile. Thanks for reading and see you next month!

ig: @ratingtheframe

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years ago

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Merry Christmas, sivan325!

For @sivan325 <3

Read On AO3

*****

Kiss It Better

“Dammit.” Stiles caught himself just in time. Or at least he thought it was just in time.

“You’re bleeding.” Derek growled between gritted teeth.

Stiles stumbled upward. Honestly who thought it was necessary to have all these loose wires in a warehouse? More important question, why were all the very important werewolf meetings between packs taking place in said warehouse? Wouldn't it be more picturesque to do that in the forest, in the desert or anywhere more natural than a freaking warehouse on the outskirts of town? It was like they were setting a trap for the lowly humans forced to accompany them. Being the emissary of these dudes, that was risky in more ways than just one.

“Warehouse… were-house? That’s what it is. It all makes sense.” Stiles mumbled to himself trying to steady himself holding on to Derek’s shoulder. He was the closest upright object nearby that Stiles didn’t identify as an electric hazard. A guy had to have some self-protection instincts after all, especially in this line of work.

“What are you saying? You’re hurt. It’s blood loss. You’re rarely that nonsensical these days.” Derek grabbed him by the waist and pushed him to the car in one smooth motion.

“The blood loss? Wha-“ Stiles looked down at himself. “Right. I’m bleeding.”

He was confident in his statement because of all the red he could see on his shirt right about now. He was pretty sure he had been wearing a white shirt before, not a tie dye t shirt of red and brown. Derek was being overly dramatic, it took a lot more blood for someone to become nonsensical due to blood loss. If Stiles had any brains at the moment he would probably crack a joke or two about that.

It was only that he was tired, the whole day had been endless and exhausting. They had to prepare for the meeting, prepare for it going right, and for it going wrong and all that stress and all these nerves being on high alert for so long, that took a toll on someone.

“Is it deep?” Derek asked sharply, stirring the car onto the main road at a speed that would most definitely get them arrested if any cop was in the vicinity.

“I’ll survive.”

Stiles winced because of the car motion. Derek really wasn’t that great of a driver all things considered. Stiles should have taken the wheel because right now he felt closer to nausea than any pain caused by a stupid scratch.

Derek parked the car in one of these fast and furious reverse u turn kind of insane driving skills. Stiles rolled his eyes. Derek might have some telepathic ability that Stiles didn’t know about because this maneuver seemed only necessary to prove to Stiles that yes Derek was a good driver, or maybe to make him puke all over the floor and himself. One or the other, Derek could be cruel like that depending on the moon cycle.

They weren’t close to the full moon or anything astronomical so maybe it was just for the heck of it. Stiles couldn’t be sure, but now he was being carried (carried! As in his feet weren’t touching the ground kind of carried!) to the elevator and toward Derek’s loft.

Maybe it was actually the blood loss, or maybe it was the crash of all the adrenaline of an alpha meeting and the spell Stiles had to do in order to protect both of them when the other pack, now clearly on the list of enemy packs, made the slightest move in the wrong direction.

Stiles was good at this business, more than good, he was great, a big talent and all that. He had been told by several trusted sources that his magic was stronger than what they had ever seen. So yes, Stiles was good and he was confident and he could do this job well, he could be the one to protect Derek and make sure all the people he loved would be safe, that the town would be safe. He could do all these things. But he was also very much new at this, and he was also very much human. Still a twenty-something dude just barely out of college and barely out of magic school, if some training and spell-work with Deaton could be called that. It was very minimal, Stiles was mostly going on instinct and pure magic.

The fact that Derek had accepted, had even offered that Stiles take the place of emissary of the Hale pack had been wild in itself but not as wild as what seemed to be going on right now.

Derek had always been a little stressed. He was a stressed alpha, it was the least anyone could say about it. It was the least Stiles himself had said out loud about it. Stiles had very little filter when it came to what he wanted to say to Derek on any given subject.

“Dude, everything is fine, the bad guys left and all that. No need to get your panties in a knot.” Stiles said for the form. He couldn’t not say anything.

Derek huffed. “My panties are fine, thank you for your concern.”

“Are they?” Stiles chuckled, a little breathless. He thought he was hilarious. Going by the death glare Derek sent his way, he didn’t share the sentiment.

The thing was Stiles was too busy keeping one very important piece of information secret and that made all the other secrets non-keepable. One mind could only have that many things hidden and Stiles had chosen to keep the fact that he was very very head over heels in love with his alpha the best kept secret in all the lands. It had been years. Nobody suspected anything. Except maybe Erica but she was way too perspective of her own good.

It made sense to keep it secret. It made as much sense as it did because now Stiles’ place in the pack was more than just friendship or fear or whatever feelings were there at the beginning. Stiles was able to perform all the needed spells and not make a fool out of himself in front of guys wanting them dead. Stiles had a place in the pack and that place was being the best emissary he could be. That meant being invested but not too much, being a key part of this pack. And it meant knowing when the pack’s health was more important than the alpha’s life.

Would Derek trust him ever again if he knew that Stiles was in love with him? Maybe not. That was the whole problem. Stiles could take rejection, he could hear Derek tell him no and that would be so much simpler. But if Derek told him no, it wouldn’t be the end of this crush. Derek wouldn’t forget it. Stiles hadn’t mastered any amnesia spell so he wouldn’t be able to erase anything. The moment the cat was out of the bag, it would be too late to turn back around.

That was fucking scary. Stiles was a little bit of a coward deep down when it came to his heart.

They had built their trust and it had taken some time, because hell, Derek had been closed off at the beginning. With reasons. Stiles couldn’t really fault him for any of it, he hadn’t been great either, being a teenager and all that, he had made mistakes too. But now they were in the best place. The betas had warmed up to Stiles, even Boyd. That was saying something.

Stiles was part of this found-family of sorts and he didn’t want to mess it up.

He couldn’t throw all that progress just because he had all these butterflies when Derek smiled at him. It was a vicious circle because the more Stiles felt included, the more time he spent with Derek, the more he felt all these scary feelings spin out of control, he was just so hopeless and everything started to swell in his heart to the breaking point. Everything was bound to come crashing out of him at some point and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

What were the chances Derek reciprocated these feelings? Zero, close to zero, the void and the deepest black hole in the galaxy.

Derek was a very serious alpha. He was trying to rebuild the Hale pack reputation in the community. He was doing good, Stiles was very proud deep down. That took time. Years. Derek was committed to it and he hadn’t exactly let himself date anyone for… Stiles couldn’t even tell how long it had been.

“What are you mumbling about?” Derek rolled his eyes. “Hop on here.” He tapped his hand on the kitchen counter.

Stiles hadn’t even realized they were now in the loft, all the lights were on and the door was closed. Derek had brought him home.

“Huh?”

‘Hop on.” Derek gestured to the counter again. “Are you going to make me carry you again?”

“What?” Stiles grimaced.

Derek rolled his eyes with a long suffering sigh. He was in a mood apparently. “Hop. On.”

“Oh my God, alright. What do you need me on the counter for? Are you planning on eating a slice of Stiles for dinner? It’s the smell of fresh blood, isn’t it? All your animalistic predator instincts have woken up because I smell deliciously like a Stilinski snack. I have to admit, you’re not wrong because I did put on some muscles with all the training and look at me, I'm pretty delicious looking. Do you think I taste like chicken? Do I smell like chicken?”

Derek didn’t comment anything except for his eyebrows twitching.

“See, you totally agree with me! I smell like delicious chicken.” Stiles decided to take that as approval. Eyebrow language was always subjective and Stiles could turn it to his advantage if he wanted.

“Take off your shirt.” Derek ordered out of the blue.

“Wowow, what?” Stiles’ brain really had a hard time catching up with everything. It was all because of the blood loss. Surely.

Derek crouched down to rummage through the cabinet at Stiles’ feet before standing up with an old beaten metal box.

“You’re bleeding.” Derek’s eyes looked over Stiles’ chest and arm, almost begging Stiles to actually get on with the plan. But what plan, Stiles had no idea.

“I’m? Yeah.” Stiles looked down at himself again. Was he actually still bleeding?

By the time Stiles stopped frowning down at his shirt as if he could will his blood to stop coming out of him with the strength of his mind, Derek took a step closer and just… ripped the shirt off with his claws. He had flicked his claws out just for this.

Why exactly? Stiles’ slightly ripped and somewhat bloody shirt had been so offensive or something. Derek wasn’t new to the whole bloody shirt ordeal. He had had a great deal of bloody shirts since they met. What was wrong with bloody shirts now?

“O - okayyy…” Stiles was just so confused.

It was delirium. It was the only actual explanation he could find for whatever was going on right now.

“You’re bleeding.” Derek had a one track mind.

“It’s not that bad actually.” Stiles made a face, looking down at himself. He had a handful of punctures through his skin from having landed on some barbed wire. He was still oozing out blood on the side of his rib cage but none of the cuts looked that deep, and none of them were that large either.

Painful, yes. Life threatening, not really. It was all good. Stiles wasn’t fainting at the sight of blood anymore. He had grown out of that.

Stiles startled when he was hit by some icy cold spray coming out of nowhere.

He looked up to see Derek’s gaze laser focused on the wounds.

“What the fuck?” Stiles squawked.

Derek was holding an antiseptic spray like he would a gun and he was ready to shoot. He had actually shot, Stiles realized, the cold liquid hitting his skin made a lot more sense now.

“We don’t want any infection.” Derek deadpanned, as if that explained everything.

“Duuuude...” Stiles shook his head in disbelief.

So that was what Derek had been doing all this time? Trying to clean Stiles’ wounds? That was strangely sweet but also very weird and awkward. So so awkward.

“Clean it first?” Stiles tried to say. “No. I mean. I can clean it myself. I can absolutely clean it myself.”

He was not inviting Derek to gently caress his chest with a damp cloth because no, Stiles wasn’t doing that. Oh but he would absolutely love that because he was a masochist and any amount of Derek he could get he would very much like to get and if Derek was set on a quest to take care of Stiles then Stiles would be an idiot to refuse. It might be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Though Stiles was a little bit of a klutz, it was not the first and most probably won’t be the last time Stiles found himself bleeding or bruising. Derek taking care of him was the new addition to this.

Of course there had been the occasional draining of his pain when things got bad or the rushing him to the hospital even when things were definitely not as bad as they looked. Obviously there had been times, numerous times, when Derek took care of him.

This was different. They were just the two of them and they were in Derek’s loft and… yeah.

Now Derek was coming back from the sink with a clean cloth and started to gently wipe the blood off the side of Stiles’ chest.

“That way?” Derek asked in a whisper. He looked uncertain, like this was all uncharted territory to him.

Stiles swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Derek looked up at him from under his eyelashes. Stiles’ heart was doing some loop-the-loop inside his chest. What was going on?

Stiles wasn’t meant to handle Derek looking at him like that. He wasn’t equipped for all these feelings. He was suffering from blood loss and a great deal of pining for this man who was the love of his life. More than that if such a thing even existed. Stiles couldn’t go through something like that and come back on the other side without being scarred for life. And all these scars would be metaphorical and all of them would be on his tiny human heart. Nothing wouldn’t be because of the bleeding and punctured skin.

“I - I can do it, you know.” Stiles made a move to reach for the cloth in Derek’s hand.

“Don’t.” Derek took his hand away. “Let me.”

Stiles raised his hands in surrender. “Okay okay. Our beloved alpha is going through something and I’m not going to get in the middle of it. I mean I literally am in the middle of it. Or the subject of it if we want to be specific. But I’m not going to come in between you and whatever it is you feel you need to do. I’m suffering enough as it is.”

Derek reached for a clean towel to pat the cuts dry. Stiles could only stare at him. The wounds really weren’t that bad, he could have just gone home. He wasn’t bleeding to death or anything.

Derek carefully brought the metal box closer. It was, as expected, some kind of first aid kit. It looked old, obviously very rarely used in a pack of werewolves with super healing abilities. It was a wonder why Derek even had that in his loft to begin with.

Derek frowned after a while. “Suffering? Does it hurt a lot?”

He stepped closer to Stiles with a big handful of gauze and sterile dressing. A lot of dressing. Enough to wrap Stiles’ whole chest with it. So much… Too much. Jesus.

Derek checked the wounds one by one and inelegantly plopped the gauze on Stiles’ chest. He grimaced before revising himself and reaching his hand again to put some pressure there. It wasn’t graceful at all, it was absolutely ridiculous.

“Noooo.” Stiles pushed him away and crossed his arms over his chest before he could come any closer again. “Drop the gauze, dude. Drop. the. gauze. I’m not letting you change me into a mummy. It’s not Halloween and gauze just isn’t a trendy fashion accessory. I don’t need all of this. At all.” Stiles gestured to Derek holding a ball of gauze as big as a football. “Look, it stopped bleeding. Okay, almost stopped. But I swear, I only need a few band-aids and it’s going to be enough.”

Derek frowned but let the gauze fall to the ground. He went to the metal box again and came back with a pack of what looked to be simple band-aids.

“That’s more like it.” Stiles encouraged him. “Give it all you’ve got, buddy… That’s just a saying. Don’t go overboard, please.”

Derek only groaned in response. Stiles figured he had gotten the point.

He stretched a little to give Derek more access. The laser focused gaze was back on Derek’s face as he stuck one, two, three band-aids on Stiles’ skin. Fingertips brushing his cold skin, sending shivers all over.

“Please stop looking so constipated. What is it? It’s not that I don’t enjoy all the attention but come on, tell me, what the hell is going on?” Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. The whole thing was so bizarre.

“My human is hurt and I need to make sure-” Derek started before stopping mid sentence frowning and shaking his head as if he didn’t make any sense even to himself.

“Dude, what.” Stiles was so confused. “ My human?”

Since when was Stiles anyone’s human? Human, yes very much so, the human token, yes but when had anyone other than his dad and maybe Scott have any sort of possessive feelings toward him? He heard it before ‘my son’ ‘my best friend’ but ‘my human’? Well that was a first and it could mean so many things.

“What do you mean ‘my’ human?”

“Nothing.” Derek shut off almost immediately.

“Something!” Stiles hopped off the counter trying to make himself look tall.

It failed. He winced at the stabbing pain in his side. He had almost forgotten he was actually pretty banged up. That was how infuriating Derek could be when he didn’t want to use words.

“Stiles.” Derek’ warm hands were here to steady him, so soft and gentle on his skin. Stiles wanted to be mad about it but he liked it all too much.

“Ugh. Don’t think I’m forgetting about all of this just because of some tiny scratches, okay? I’m not letting this go.”

“You never let anything go.” Derek’s face was annoyed, but his eyes were still staring at Stiles.

“I’m fine.” Stiles affirmed because apparently Derek needed to hear it. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” Derek said for the hundredth time this evening.

“It’s not the first time.”

A deep pained look ghosted over Derek’s face.

Stiles sighed. That hurt expression wasn’t going to cut it. They weren’t these people anymore. Derek was a good alpha, he was the best alpha. He cared so much about his pack, about the town. He wasn’t the guy who carried all the guilt in the world on his shoulders anymore. Derek knew better than that.

“Your human?” Stiles brought them back to the most important topic of all.

He smirked at Derek’s even more pained expression. It wasn’t the same pain. It was the ‘Stiles is insufferable’ pained look. This was a look Stiles could deal with. He quite liked that look if he was completely honest. He would gladly annoy Derek for the rest of their days, that was in his lifelong contract.

“Since when am I your human? Tell me more. I’d like to know!”

“It came out wrong,” Derek deflated, looking anywhere but at Stiles. “I meant-“

Stiles snorted. Derek was saying words that meant one thing but his hands were still holding Stiles close, closer than strictly necessary. Still holding Stiles who was shirtless, the shreds of his bloody shirt in a pile on the floor, and still holding Stiles who wasn’t exactly bleeding anymore and just a tiny bit sore after tripping and losing his fight with scraps of metal in an old dusty warehouse. Stiles was definitely losing his fight against these hands too.

He was slowly but surely letting these warm hands affect him, he was letting himself want more of these hands and more of everything. And if Derek wanted Stiles to be his, Stiles was ready to be his on so many more levels than just a different species. He was ready to be more than what they had been for years. Friends, pack and maybe something else.

Stiles moved a small step closer. “Well, if we’re standing here in this kitchen tonight, claiming each other, I’d like to formally tell this assembly of silverware that you… You’re my… alpha.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red at the word.

Stiles smirked again. “That’s right. Thanks for the confirmation.”

“I just want you safe.” Derek glanced at Stiles’ band-aid covered chest again.

“Just give me a couple of days I’ll be as good as new and you’ll stop looking like someone kicked your puppy. Oh my god. Am I your puppy? Do you want to lick my wound better because your saliva has magical properties? Because mine doesn’t, I already asked. You said human but that can mean a lot of things. Please tell me I’m not a puppy. Do you see me as a useless human kid?”

“No.” Derek’s face lost every ounce of concern all at once. Stiles’ stupid rambling had managed to convince him he wasn’t dying.

“Well, good.” Stiles said. “That would be the opposite of sexy.”

Okay so Stiles was not a puppy and not a kid. He had lost his investigation edge. He had let himself become soft or something.

“So you care about me.” Stiles ventured.

It wasn’t a question. Stiles knew Derek cared. Derek cared about everyone. The statement seemed innocent enough. Derek didn’t have to take it as an euphemism for anything other than caring for his pack members, his brand new emissary. He didn’t have to read into Stiles’ jerky heartbeat. Or smell the distinct scent of hope mixed with nerves.

He didn’t have to. Oh but Stiles wished he would.

“... Yes.” Derek breathed out. “I care.”

“Okay.” Stiles’ mind blanked.

Okay. Cool. Play it cool. This is okay. Cool. His heart was now skyrocketing as if it was trying to break his ribs and make its way out. But everything was cool.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Stiles nodded. What, did Derek honestly think Stiles wasn’t going to be okay with this? “I’m gonna kiss you now. If I got all of this wrong, I’m going to blame it on the delirium of blood loss. You even told me I was nonsensical earlier, don’t think I didn’t hear, I heard. I hear everything. I always hear everything. And right now I’m hearing something and you know how actions have reactions well my reaction is that i’m going to kiss you. You can totally stop me or push me away if you don’t want that. I mean, this is just a heads-up because it’s good to give people a warning sometimes and not just spray them with antiseptic or, you know, love and affection without any warning.”

Derek’s face twitched in what seemed like surprise for a second.

“Yeah.” Stiles repeated. “Because if you care about me that way, I do too. Care about you. And you have to know you are wonderful and kind and extremely extremely beautiful. Handsome yes and attractive and hot but that doesn’t cover it. You’re beautiful and amazing and I…” stiles licked his lips. “I’m gonna shut up now and I’m gonna kiss you. Kiss the hell out of you until my legs give out. I’m gonna-“

It was Derek who kissed him in the end, crowding into Stiles’ space and capturing his mouth mid sentence.

Stiles was still trying to speak until Derek slipped his tongue inside his mouth to effectively shut him up. That was when Stiles’ brain caught up with the action.

He grabbed a fistful of Derek’s shirt to tug him even closer if that was possible.

Derek’s hand made its way down to stop just where Stiles’ band aids were, ghosting over them, not touching but still there. Protecting.

That kiss. That kiss was enough to heal some hole inside of Stiles that band-aids had never been able to fix.

A moan escaped Stiles before Derek caught his lips in another kiss because no one kiss wasn’t enough. Kisses were simply fantastic. Derek’s mouth was made to be kissed indefinitely, forever, over and over again. And Stiles’ soft skin was made to brush against Derek’s stubble so much that it would become red with it.

They finally let go of each other. A tragedy. Stiles had to breathe a little. He needed to think, restart his brain after the sweetest court-circuit of sensations.

He looked down in a sigh. And frowned at the bright colored spots on his ribs. What…

“Are these superheroes band-aids?” Stiles snorted.

“Uh. Yeah.” Derek confessed.

Stiles stared at him for a moment, that man was absolutely ridiculous. How long had these band aids been there waiting in that old box? How long had Derek been feeling this way about Stiles that he had bought and kept these stupid superheroes band-aids in his stupid kitchen?

Stiles shook his head, examining Derek’s expression carefully.

“You’re insane.” He whispered, praying that his cheeks weren't starting to flush red.

It was so far from an accusation. He was in awe. Stiles bit his lip to keep from doing something but then remembered that he could, he was allowed to kiss Derek now. He already had in fact kissed Derek. What in the world.

He just went for it, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his lips.

Derek didn’t even correct him on his insanity. Maybe he agreed, they were both a little bit insane.

They kissed, and kissed. Stiles' jaw started aching but he wouldn’t stop kissing Derek, not when Derek’s fingers were now in his hair, not when a hand was on his hip steadying him upright.

His lips stung, swollen and almost raw from stubble and a few very deliberate teasing teeth.

“Fuck.” Derek breathed out. “They’re not going to let me live this down. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Who?”

“The betas…” Derek ran a hand over his eyes.

Oh no. So they all knew. It hasn’t been just Erica. They had all seen Stiles pining his ass off for Derek for years. This was awful, so terrible. Stiles was going to die from all the teasing. No, wait.

Derek let out a long suffering sight. “I kept telling them no, that I wasn’t… but they were relentless. I kept telling them to shut up.”

Stiles felt his lips curl up in the biggest idiotic grin ever. The betas were going to tease Derek. Not him. Let’s face it, they were going to tease Stiles most definitely too but also Derek! Derek had been pining over him for God knew how long.

“Dude,” Stiles was still grinning. Barbed wire excluded, this might be the best fucking day ever. “Telling these idiots to shut up... that never works you should know by now.”

Derek shrugged. He looked just a little too proud for someone complaining about his family not listening to a word he said.

“So we’re doing this?” Stiles dared ask.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll give you my heart but on the condition you do study the basics of the human healing process. Maybe even CPR because all of this,” he gestured to all of Derek. “that might cause me one or two heart-attacks.”

Derek rolled his eyes. That idiot couldn't even keep the fond off his face.

Stiles had to kiss him again. He just had to.

#sivan325 #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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ravenbrenna09 · 5 years ago

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masterpiece - snippet

I caved and decided to just post it since I’m probably not going to be posting Sobbe-related stuff for a bit.

everyone blame @fehmyn for glasses!Sander because look at him:

Like why.

...

Thursday was not Robbe’s day.

Thursday was, by far, Robbe’s longest and physically draining day. While his first class of the day didn’t start until a little before 12:00, his day wouldn’t end until about 23:00 which was when the library closed down, and he was freed from his job so he could go home. To add to his torture of a long day, (which is really his own fault for taking Amber’s shift so she could be picked up by her mother on her way home from work), his classes on Thursdays were particularly draining, filled with dry teachers that talked to the board and ignored any and all questions.

Letting out a sigh, Robbe turned to his introductory essay which was pulled up in another tab of the computer in front of him. The head of the department didn’t care about them working on homework, as long as their other jobs were done first, and Robbe had already put up the remaining books in the library, straightened up the desks where the student workers sat, and filed away a stack or two of files for one of his superiors.

Now, that all of his librarian work was done, at least until someone returned a book to the circulation counter and he would go off in search of its rightful spot, Robbe could focus on this essay, or a story, that his writing teacher had assigned as an “introduction” to their mindset as writers. And, the topic that had been chosen by his other 25 classmates was soulmates.

He let out a breath of air, burying his face in his hands.

Robbe hated soulmates.

Or, rather, he hated the idea of soulmates.

As a kid, Robbe would sit and watch his mother doodle on her skin with her favorite pen, watch the curve of her letters, her small doodles of flowers, appear on the exact same spot on his father’s hand. His parents would smile at each other, love in their eyes, and tease each other when the other got a stain on their hand because it affected both of them.

To little six-year-old Robbe, soulmates were everything that he had to offer and he thought that he didn’t have one because doodles never appeared on his skin. His mother had giggled at him, informing him that his soulmate’s doodles wouldn’t appear until after he reached puberty. Little Robbe had been confused as to why he had to wait, he now knew that the changing hormones and chemicals in the body at puberty that caused the connection to show fully, but no one, not even people researching and studying soulmates, could pinpoint how soulmates are chosen or when.

To present-day, eighteen-year-old Robbe, soulmates were crap.

His parents had been soulmates, had fallen in love, and got married, having Robbe shortly after. For the first eight years of Robbe’s life, his parents had been happily in love with one another. His father loved being home, loved cuddling his wife on the couch, to the point that Robbe would call them disgusting and throw a pillow at them and they would laugh. Then, his parents started fighting about little things, small minuscule details that shouldn’t matter. As the years went on, the fights got worse, louder and louder until Robbe couldn’t sleep at night anymore, sneaking out of his house and going to his best friend’s house to crash. Then, his father left them alone, found another woman who made him happier, and his mother spiraled, leaving Robbe caught in between, trying to help her.

His parents were soulmates and they had fallen out of love.

If the one person that you were destined to be with was supposed to leave you anyways, what was the point of having the ability to connect with them on a physical level?

Letting out a sigh, Robbe reached out, typing angrily. Soulmates are fucking stupid.

“Woah there,” Zoë teased, walking up with a cup of coffee in her hand.

Zoë was a barista and one of Robbe’s roommates. At the beginning of the year, Robbe had moved into the three-bedroom flatshare with her and a senior, Milan, because Robbe was not going to live with his dad, not after what he did to his mom, not with him and his new girlfriend. It was a minor miracle that the two of them had been so willing and that his father had been so understanding. His father wanted him to live in the dorms, but it was too expensive for Robbe. He was barely surviving month-to-month as it was and living in the dorms would be almost double the cost.

“What’s wrong?” Zoë questioned.

“What isn’t wrong?” Robbe questioned. “Of all the topics my writing class had to pick for our introductory assignment, they picked soulmates.” Zoë scrunched up her nose, understanding. “And, I can’t think of anything to write other than soulmates are fucking stupid.” As if she didn’t believe him, he turned the screen towards her and she stood on her toes to look, letting out a light breath through her nose. He let out a sigh, straightening the computer back. “Think that will get me full points?”

“I doubt it.” Zoë laughed. “Here, it’s from Chloë.”

“Again?” Robbe questioned. Chloë was a barista at the café, who had a crush on Robbe so obvious that even he could see it, which was saying something. When it came to realizing people having feelings for him, he didn’t have the best track record. Despite the fact that Robbe had several relationships, almost all of them had been as a result of the other person making the first move. “How many times have you told her that she’s not my type?”

“Robbe,” Zoë laughed, reaching out to pat his head with a tone that says many times. “I think the only way she’s going to be convinced that you aren’t interested in her is if she finds you making out with a guy. Not that I can blame her. You are a cute boy. Whether you want to admit it or not.” Robbe rolled his eyes before spotting the purple writing on the back of her hand. Zoë caught his gaze and scoffed. “My soulmate’s latest ‘conquest’,” she remarked, pivoting the hand towards Robbe so he could see.

Had a good time tonight was followed by a phone number, only the final digit was smudged.

Robbe knew that he had a soulmate, of course, but his soulmate wasn’t the type of person who slept around a lot, or if they did, they didn’t have girls writing numbers on the back of their hand in hopes of a second round.

On his sixteenth birthday, his best friend, Jens, had jokingly drawn a poor excuse of a birthday cake and sixteen candles on the back of his right hand (and Robbe will never admit to anyone how disappointed he was that it didn’t show up on Jens’ hand). Within an hour, as he sat in his biology class, his soulmate, whoever they were, had drawn an arrow to it and wrote awful, zero stars on booking.com before proceeding to draw a perfectly drawn cake, in pen, with the exact number on the candles, on the back of his left hand. The drawing looked perfect, meticulous, and every year, on that same day, another cake would appear on his hand with an additional candle.

Robbe had a soulmate.

Even if he didn’t want one.

Zoë let out a heavy sigh, pulling him back into the world of the present. “Every morning I wake up with a new number on my hand is another morning I question if you have the right idea,” she admitted, staring at her hand. “Soulmates are crap. I’m always half-tempted to call the number, tell her that he’s just going to find someone else, but what’s the point, right? Plus, it’s missing a digit.”

“Save a woman from getting her hopes up, probably. But, don’t worry,” Robbe remarked. “I’m sure he’ll get his head out of his ass soon.”

“Excuse me,” a voice remarked, over Zoë’s shoulder.

The two of them pivoted to find that a blond-haired man was standing behind them. The man was stunning, absolutely breathtaking as though he had been carved from stone. There was a black-beanie resting lightly on his head, covering the strands of white-blonde hair that poked out from the edge, and he had a pair of bright green eyes that were partially hidden by the black-framed glasses perched on his nose. He was dressed in a pair of denim jeans, black converse, and a t-shirt with an artist that he didn’t recognize beneath his black hoodie.

Robbe felt his breath catch in his throat.

Looking like that in a hoodie, glasses, and a beanie was ridiculously unfair.

Especially to Robbe.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation,” he continued, pushing up his green bag further up his shoulder. “But, I need to check out this book for my art history class.”

“Of course,” Robbe replied, his voice cracking a little. There was a knowing look on Zoë’s face, a familiar eyebrow raised that she generally reserved only for Milan, as she shuffled to the side, taking the coffee with her. The man stepped forward, placing the book on the edge of the counter, and Robbe took the book from him, eager to make sure their hands didn’t touch. “Sorry about that. Do you have your id?”

“Yeah, it’s in here somewhere,” the man replied, digging his wallet out of his bag. He found it, handing it over to Robbe, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, almost like it was on purpose. Robbe felt a jolt shoot up his hand as he took the id in his hands, switching to the electronic check-out system, typing in his student id number and scanning the book. A name popped up. Sander Driesen.

Once Robbe had deactivated the electric security in the spine, he placed his id on top of the cover and slid it across the counter, “Here you go.” Robbe kept his hand on the other side of the book, making sure to pull his own hand away before Sander reached out to grab the book. He took the book from the counter, grabbing his id from the top and slipping it into his pocket. “It’ll be due on the 17th of next month.”

Sander sent him a grin, a slightly confident, slightly wicked grin, like he somehow managed to know the effect that he was having on Robbe and his already jumbled mind, almost as much as Zoë did. “Thank you so much,” he remarked. He glanced towards Zoë, who was still hanging off to the side, and Robbe thought he saw Sander’s eyes flicker down to her hand, a flicker of recognition flashing through them, but then, Sander was smiling at her and saying to her, all confident and charming, “Sorry about interrupting your conversation.”

“It’s completely okay,” Zoë replied. “I was about to leave anyway.”

Sander moved off, grinning at her, and Zoë handed Robbe his coffee, a knowing glint in her eye as she boosted herself up over the counter to press a kiss against his cheek. He shoved her away, wiping away the residue of her signature red lipstick, and Zoë ran out the door, giggling all the way and promising to save him some leftovers from dinner. Robbe let out a sigh, trying to return to his essay on stupid soulmates, but found his eyes looking for Sander, who had disappeared.

#masterpiece fic #brenna's soulmate au #sander x robbe #sobbe #rosander #i'm sure everyone's getting frustrated at my random ficlets but i get inspiration and i must write #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #wtfock #wtfam #fuck why am i getting so insecure over my writing

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bringontheemos · 4 years ago

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CHAPTER 4 of Itachi x OC Yuri in ‘Another Chance for Family’. This chapter focuses on Yuri and her background and such. I hope you enjoy reading!

(A/N: the land of flowers in this story is different than the land of vegetables. I know in the manga and anime that the land of vegetables is often called the land of flowers but just consider this to be a separate place.)

"As you may know, the Land hidden in the flowers has been very fortunate when it comes to harvest numbers. We're one of the smallest lands but our crop failure is at practically zero and we grow enough food for the surrounding lands. The main contributor to this is my family.

You see, for the past three generations my family has resided in the Land of flowers. When my grandparents came, it was a barren land that could hardly grow grass. The people starved to death and those who survived didn't have the strength to leave.

The mere presence of my grandfather caused the plants to revive. From that day forward, my family were considered the most important and powerful people in the land... that changed soon after I was born.

According to my parents, the night I was born there was a large growth in all of the plants within a two mile radius, the ground shook for hours, and all fire and electricity in the area went out. The village was sure I would bring more good fortune with my heighten powers. They were so happy for my future.

Anyway, I grew up a bit. No one expected much of me yet but they still eagerly awaited the awakening of my full ability. When I was five I caught a cold from playing in the rain. I accidentally spread spores over the entire village. Several people chocked to death on the toxins, especially the elderly and young children. My parents attempted to talk to the villagers and eventually everything calmed down.

The next problem occurred when I was 9 years old. A couple of kids my age were picking on me for being shy and small. They said all kinds of terrible things. They weren't content with just laughing at me though, they started hitting me and throwing things. I tried to protect myself but... I accidentally killed them. Large branches shot out of the ground and through each of the children. I was mortified, and the villagers didn't trust me anymore. They didn't believe I was capable of controlling myself, which is true I guess.

My parents agreed that I was too much of a liability to live in the village, so they cleared out the farmer's shed on top of the hill and told me to stay there. They came to visit me every day and my father would tell me his wonderful stories while mom wove flower crowns. But one day they didn't come back. The night before there was a raid on the town. Thieves came and stole everything. I was forbidden to step foot into the town center so I stayed in my shack and prayed.

My parents and half of the villagers died in the raid. People blamed me for not killing the enemy for them. So after that, they completely avoided me, they hated me, and beat me.

Just before my grandfather passed away, I asked him what my power was good for. He told me, 'you, your mother and I have deep connections with the earth and the creatures on it. We can borrow it's power, create and control life. This power is only given to those the earth loves. Those who are worthy to be its master.' He taught me how to use this power... grandpa was incredible."

My new friends let me finish telling my story before they spoke. Itachi being the first, "So that's what happened? Interesting. Have you mastered control over these powers of yours?"

We all stopped for a break so I was able to sit on the ground.

"Well... the thing is... I'm not sure where my limits are. After that incident with the other children, I stopped trying to use my powers. Although, I do have a pretty good idea what I could potentially do."

"But your village still has healthy crops. How are the they growing if you aren't using your ability?"

"Oh that? Yeah that just kinda happens." I pointed to the area I was sitting on. The once dry dirt was now green and lilies were sprouting. "See? I don't have to do anything, but that also means I don't have much control over this either."

"I'm curious," Kisame had a strange look in his eye. "Could you grow a tree at will?"

"I guess so. How big?"

"As big as possible."

"Alright." I laid my hands on the ground and concentrated on forming a tree. The ground shook for a moment and then everything stopped.

Itachi's POV

'Hm. So she wasn't able to do it. How disapp-'

A large trunk shot out of the ground. The tree grew so tall that it was difficult to see the top through the clouds. The air felt very clean as well. Like all of the toxins had been taken away.

"S-so... How was that?" This woman acted as though she just did something minor and not something as incredible as this.

"Good."

"Really?! I'm glad to hear it!" She smiled at me and Kisame, but I noticed something. Little vines were beginning to wrap around her limbs like snakes. "Hm." She looked at the plant in such a nonchalant way.

"Uh... What's going on?" Kisame finally asked.

"It's my wounds. They're healing them for me. This only happens when I get hurt pretty bad." While she did that I took the time to read her and think about the situation.

'Her chakra is plentiful and she's overflowing with it. So much so that the vegetation around her grows. The strangest thing about this is that I can't see through this jutsu. Maybe it isn't a technique at all.'

~~~~~~

3rd person POV

Yuri, Itachi, and Kisame continued walking to wherever the men were heading. Yuri has already decided to stay with them. After all, they're the only people to show kindness to her.

"So where are you headed?" Yuri asked curiously as she marched next to Kisame.

"Heh. You'll know shortly."

"Hm..... okay!" They continued walking for a few more hours before they reached an area that looked like a deserted village. The houses were burned down and the scorched earth was completely barren. "Um... where are we?"

"We will be leaving you here."

"What?!"

The men were already walking away. "You can wonder off if you want, but if you're in this place, you can train your power without restrictions."

"Oh... I understand."

Itachi turned to the sad young woman and threw her a kunai knife. He gave the knife to her so she could protect herself if she wasn't confident in her abilities quite yet.

Yuri watched as the people she believed to be friends, left her. Even though she could have cried about it, she didn't because she knew this was a challenge: become stronger by the time he gets back.

'I'll do my best and then you'll see how useful I can be!'

#anime #books & libraries #shounen #naruto #itach uchiha #itachi #yuriuchiha #yuri uchiha #romance #feelings #backstory #kisame

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vs-redemption · 4 years ago

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Blinded (Teen!Hawks X Teen!Toya Oneshot)

Summary: Hawks meets Toya Todoroki and has a conversation that forces him to open his eyes to the darker truths about hero society. This is based on the theory that Hawks met Dabi through the Hero Commission before Dabi was a villain.

Warnings: It’s kind of sad

Being blindfolded used to be a bit frightening, but not anymore. Honestly, now it was just kind of exhilarating because taking away my eyesight made the rest of my senses kick into overdrive. Years of training had made it so that nobody could hide from me, even in complete darkness. Having that kind of power gave me a confidence that I’d been raised to embrace and utilize in every aspect of my daily life. A person who was assured in their own abilities and actions put other people at ease. It made them trust you, and that was important for anyone aspiring to be a hero.

“Are you ready?” the familiar voice of the facility director comes through the speaker on the ceiling directly above my head. It was usually my personal supervisor that ran my routine quirk tests, but it wasn’t unheard of for the higher ups to show up and assess my progress every once in a while. I nod my head, knowing they were watching my every move as I mentally prepare for what I am about to do. There’s a count down.

“3…2…1…Go.”

The wings on my back snap open and a tingling sensation runs through my feathers as they pick up the vibrations of several dozen sensors placed randomly around the room. Learning how to sense and control each of my feathers had been a slow, uphill battle. It had only gotten easier thanks to all the rigorous mental exercises I’d been forced to endure. I still had a long way to go and a lot more to learn before I was ready to be a hero, but for now I took pride in how each feather moved on its own, flying through the room and shutting off each of the sensors with terrifying speed and accuracy. I can’t help but smirk a little, knowing the director was watching. Maybe if I impressed her enough, I’d finally be given permission to leave the facility.

There were only a few more sensors left when all of my focus suddenly zeroed in on the sounds coming from outside the testing room. People had been walking back and forth, chatting to each other, and opening and closing doors the entire time, but there was one particular voice that had always stood out. The fact that he was back after going missing for a few days was a little exciting, and my mind raced with possible reasons for the absence.

“Hawks!”

The director calls my name and I snap to attention. The bright red feathers around the room come flying back to me, filling out my wings as they fold back up against my back. I pull the blindfold off my face and glance up towards where I knew the camera watching my performance was hidden.

“What happened?” The voice was your supervisor now and he didn’t sound pleased. “You slowed down at the end and failed to turn off two of the sensors.”

I hadn’t made a mistake like that in a long time. It was time to put my diplomacy skills to the test. I put on my best smile, the one they’d rewarded me for using to my advantage in the past, and reach up to scratch the back of my head as a false show of submission.

“Sorry about that,” I keep my voice light but apologetic. “I thought I heard someone trip out in the hallway and figured it was worth losing a few points if I could make sure they were all right! That’s what a real hero would do, isn’t it?”

“No.” My supervisor hadn’t been moved at all by the act. I supposed that was to be expected since he was the one who had taught me all the tricks I’d just tried to pull. “You can think of those two missed sensors as two lives you failed to save today.” That was a bit harsh, but I knew better than to say anything about it.

“All right,” I sigh, giving in for real. “Just let me try again. I’ll get them this time.”

“There are no second chances in the real world,” the supervisor lectures. “Only consequences. So for the next two weeks you’ll be required to do an extra hour of training after dinner.” Before I have a chance to reply, I’m dismissed from the test and sent to my next class.

* * *

There were plenty of other students besides me attending the facility owned by the Hero Public Safety Commission. We all attended general studies classes together but did our quirk training separately. I’d been wishing for more time to get to know them for as long as I could remember. Unfortunately though, there was hardly ever time for me to socialize with my peers because they went home to their families in the afternoon while I lived in the building and did extra training in the evenings. It made me sort of an outcast to them, and I envied my classmates who got to leave this place to hang out, talk, and enjoy doing whatever it is that they liked doing.

“Hey. Chicken boy.”

It was the same voice I’d heard in the hallway during my test. I was supposed to be in the cafeteria for dinner within the next few minutes, but there was no way I could pass up a chance to talk to him. I turn around and see him sitting on the ground, tucked oddly underneath one of the facility’s drinking fountains.

“Hey.” I walk over to his crouched form, fighting the urge to check over my shoulder for anyone who might be watching. I was going to be in so much trouble if I was late to dinner. The commission kept me on a very strict schedule. It was strange that any other students would still be here though. Everyone else had gone home for the day.

I kneel down so it’d be easier to talk to him, but I was a bit too big to fit under the fountain with my wings. This is the closest I’d ever been to him, so it was a little startling to finally make eye contact with his icy blue stare after admiring him from afar for so long. If this was going to be my first impression, I had to make it good. I fluff up my wings and allow a huge smile to take over my face before asking, “Is everything okay?” The boy scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Stop it with that stupid hero act.” He crosses his arms over his knees which were tucked into his chest, making himself look younger and smaller than he was. His words sent a jolt into my stomach though. Stop the hero act? Being a perfect hero inside and out had been the main purpose of my existence since the facility had taken me in. I didn’t know how to stop.

“What’s your name, bird brain?” Apparently he’d grown impatient with my silence. I knew ‘Chicken Boy’ and ‘Bird Brain’ were probably supposed to be offensive, but I’d honestly be fine with any nickname just to keep him talking to me. I rarely got the chance to talk so casually with someone, especially someone so close to my age, and especially someone as interesting at this boy. Ever since he’d joined the facility, he’d only attended classes about seventy percent of the time. The times he did show up were spent driving the facility staff mad by questioning and challenging every order he was given. I liked his attitude, and I wanted to know what made him go absent so often.

“My name’s Hawks.” I soften my smile this time in the hopes he’ll reciprocate the friendliness. The irritation on his face only increases at my answer. He sighs and runs a hand through his thick, red, spiked up hair. His sleeve slides down to reveal that his wrist and forearm are covered in tightly wrapped bandages. It’s not the first time I’d seen him with injuries like that, and it was one of the many things that had made me so curious about him. How did he always end up hurt so badly? Did it happen during his training? Was he pushing himself too hard? Was someone doing it to him? There’d been no clues about what his quirk could be, so I couldn’t be sure what the story was.

“I meant your real name, moron.” The insults were getting more offensive, but I didn’t mind. I’d been taught by the commission that people lashed out at others out of fear, sadness, or insecurity. As a hero, I’d have to deal with people experiencing emotions like that every day. I couldn’t let it get to me.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone my real name,” I admit calmly while trying to think of a way to get him to open up to me. This was my first chance to try and make a real friend.

“Why not?” his tone was mocking, “You think you’re special because you live here and get special treatment?” The question was shocking. Is that what all my classmates thought of me? I was certainly lucky to have been taken in by the commission, but being caged inside was also a burden at times.

“I was told that it was safer for me to always use a hero name,” I explain, wondering if I was really supposed to be sharing details like that without asking. “The commission didn’t want anyone to be able to use my past against me.” A dark look passed across my classmate’s face then and he finally crawls out from under the fountain. I scramble to stand up too, worried that he was going to leave. He doesn’t walk away though. He just stands there with a scowl on his face.

“I wish someone would erase my past,” he finally mumbles after a pause. “It must be nice.”

“It’s lonely,” the words are out before I can stop them. I wasn’t ever supposed to show true vulnerability like that, but how could I not after he’d said something so sad? The expression on his face changes after that, probably surprised by my admission. The heat from his blue eyes seems to dull and the tension leaves his shoulders.

“Lonely, huh?” all the aggression had left his voice and the corner of his mouth pulls up into a sad smile. “Well isn’t that a pity?” I couldn’t tell if he was still making fun of me or not. Perhaps my isolation was amusing compared to whatever he dealt with that left him with open wounds all over his body. He reaches forward suddenly and wraps his fingers around my wrist to tug me closer. My brain all but short circuits at both the close proximity and his touch. It suddenly occurs to me that I had no idea when I’d last had physical contact with someone that wasn’t for a training or medical purpose.

“Let me fill you in on a secret,” he’s speaking just quietly enough that I have to lean in just a bit more to catch his words. “This place isn’t grooming you to be a hero. Not a real one anyway. They’re just brainwashing you into being a puppet that follows orders and never thinks for itself.”

“No, that’s not true.” It was a kneejerk response and deep down I knew it.

“Yeah, it is. Dumb bird,” the frown is back and he shakes his head. “Open your eyes.”

Open your eyes.

Suddenly the thought of ever being in a blindfold again made me want to be sick. Had the facility really been using me this whole time? Were they really training me into the type of hero I wanted to be? Surely it couldn’t be true. This classmate that I had been so intrigued by was clearly just trying to shatter the confidence that I’d worked so hard to build. He obviously wasn’t happy with his own life, and like they say, misery loves company.

“Hawks!” my supervisor comes stomping down the hallway towards us. The boy standing in front of me lets go of my wrist and backs away. “There you are! Did you forget what time dinner was? Oh. Toya…” there was clear distaste in my supervisor’s tone once he sees who I’m with. “That explains it. You know your father’s been blowing up our phone trying to figure out where you are?”

“I don’t care.” The boy says flatly, “He can go to hell.” He unconsciously starts rubbing at his arms where the bandages are.

“You should really reconsider that attitude of yours,” my supervisor warns him before turning to me. “Get to the cafeteria right now. And you’d better hope I never have to go searching for you again.” I look at Toya, wanting to continue our conversation so I could figure out what was going on with him and squash the uncertainty that was suddenly spreading through my head like wildfire. I didn’t want to get us into more trouble by disobeying, but I also had an urge to show him that I could act on my own. Before I could change my mind, I lunge forward and throw my arms around his neck to pull him into a tight embrace. He either didn’t want to hug me back because of his injured arms or didn’t know how to do it without disturbing my wings because he kept his arms hanging limply at his sides. That was okay though. It made me happy that he didn’t push me away.

“Keigo Takami,” I whisper as quietly as possible near his ear. “That’s my name.” I back away quickly with a big grin on my face. There was something liberating about releasing that information when I wasn’t supposed to. Toya raises his eyebrows at me, looking impressed. I wasn’t really ready to leave yet, but I didn’t want to push my luck more than I already had. “Goodbye,” I tell him before excusing myself and heading to the cafeteria.

* * *

After hearing that I’d diverged from the facility’s schedule to talk to another student in the hallway, my two weeks of extra training got extended to four. I knew that it would be difficult for me to ever talk to Toya again, at least not for a while. I used the time to really think about what he’d told me. I thought about my life in the facility and about the life I hoped to someday live as a pro hero. There were definitely a few things I could admit bothered me. The biggest one wasn’t even about how they treated me. It was how they treated Toya. Being a hero meant knowing when someone needed your help, and Toya was clearly a person that needed saving.

In class, I did my best to acknowledge him without drawing too much attention to ourselves, but the most interaction we could manage was a subtle head nod every now and then. After a week or so, he went missing for a couple days. He came back with fresh bandages on his arms. It confused me how the teachers and facility staff could allow whatever was doing this to him to continue. After the comment he’d made about his dad, I wondered if his father was the one to inflict the wounds. There was no way the commission would turn a blind eye to that though, right?

Blind

I was starting to sense a theme.

As time passed, Toya spent more and more time away from the facility. I couldn’t help but worry as the amount of bandages on his body increased until they covered his arms and legs completely and even wrapped up around his neck. The attitude he was known for had all but vanished too. The fight had gone out of him, leaving the light in his blue eyes looking distant and dead. I wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in my wings and protect him from whatever was hurting him, but feared getting the both of us into trouble. A few months later, Toya stopped showing up all together. When I asked my supervisor about it, he expertly danced around the question using the same methods of controlling the conversation that I’d been taught during my time as his student. I realized now that it wasn’t diplomacy I was learning, it was manipulation.

Toya had been right. Good heroes weren’t meant to be deceitful or to ignore injustices. I made a vow then to use the commission the way they had been using me. I’d let them train me and make me strong. I’d pretend to agree with their corrupted methods and ideals until I was powerful enough to change them myself. I’d do everything I possibly could to become a great hero and never allow myself to be put in a blindfold again.

#hawks #keigo takami #dabi #toya todoroki #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #would this be considered hotwings? or like hawks/dabi? idk #Cindy's Writing

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prettybadqueen · 5 years ago

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This is a New story that i was working on! Hope you like it.

Living with the weight of the monarchy on my shoulders was something already normal, dinners and formal talks, elegant dresses, the various celebrations that took place during the weeks, the correct vocabulary and posture, the lessons from Mr Walrras; and a lot of things that I had to do for being just one of the king's daughters. Of three daughters, I occupied the last place, a little rebellious and rude were adjectives that identified me according to my parents.

At my short 19 years in this world, I was part of the coordination for the army of our city and the Royal Guards, along with Anthon, an elderly gentleman whose sword had been used several times to defend the kingdom and honour the king.

The first time I wielded a sword was when I was 12 years old, just out of curiosity, and since then I have never let it go, I have practised day and night with the most experienced warriors in the city and over time I managed to handle it in an extraordinary way, not that I would want to show off but I feel very prideful. My parents never liked the fact that I fought, my mother was terrified of the idea that I was going to manipulate a sword and face men twice my size and strength; but she could never stop me. When my parents tried to avoid it I had escaped from the castle for 3 days in a row, that was enough to scare them into ordering more than 100 warriors to look for me and implore that I return, so I did it but only on the condition that I was allowed to swordfight, which my parents ended up giving in to.

This is how I managed to survive during these last few years of my life, where the types of obligations were changing, and the concerns of my parents was not the amount of time I used to learn how to read but, now that I am older, getting me a husband was the most important thing according to my mother. My other two sisters, being older than me, were not married but the suitors who were looking for their hands could be said to be a few, the reason they had not accepted was because my father didn't allow us to marry with men who are not honourable in his eyes, one of the reasons for my parents' conflicts.

My older sister's name was Gretta, she was 23 years old, old enough to have an armed family according to my mother but she was still enjoying her single life that fascinated her; she loved going out to the park in the morning and reading all the books she could before the sun goes down or painting, which was another of her great abilities. One of her paintings was exposed in the great hall so that everyone could see them when they enter, a great masterpiece. Gretta never protested when she met her suitors, I think she seemed attracted to them even though she had never talked about it with us.

My other sister, Beatrice, aged 21, was the most romantic of us. she used to tell us her dreams or goals in her life several times a day. She wanted to start a big family and have a husband who loved her for the rest of her life; but my father had disapproved of every man who had tried to approach her, moreover, once there was a competition where the participating knights fought to get her hand, but again my father rejected him when he realized that the victor was just a poor blacksmith.

My mother wished for us to marry as soon as possible, however, my father's approval made it almost impossible and caused my mother to get so angry that they often slept in separate beds, that was how far this issue had affected my family, but my father knew that sooner or later he would have to give in and choose a husband for each one; but as far as I was concerned, my father had a hard time accepting and in my case the number of suitors was zero, well, in fact, there was a couple but I got to scare them away before they were to approach my father which meant punishment for me arranged by my mother.

It was already something that I had very clearly stated, I did not want to marry so young with men that I barely knew and or shared no interest in me and my way of life. Of course, I wanted to have a family but only when I determined the moment, not because of tradition in having to leave a descendant as soon as possible for the kingdom, I wanted to be part of that decision. When the time came I would have to see how I would react to all of this and it depends on when and who with.

The bright morning light penetrated the large balcony of my room, my maid came in every morning and there would be the big open curtains and heated water to bathe. I got up very quietly and headed straight for the tub, nothing was better than a refreshing shower in the morning.

My father had to attend a meeting that morning to organize the great ship to the East, where many kingdoms and small distant cities participated in the assault, as it generated great profits for the kingdoms. I dressed with the help of my maids and headed to the great hall, breakfast was ready. All my family sitting around the main table of the great hall accompanied by the leaders of the neighbouring armies.

Upon arrival my father immediately raised his hand when he sees me and begins to stop from his seat: "Ara come here quickly, I have to introduce you to an old friend" he exclaimed, approaching a man.

I start walking towards him until he grabs me by the shoulder and points me to the man who is standing right in front of us. "Ara, this is Flicht." he points a finger at the man.

"It's a pleasure, Mr Flicht." I greet you with a nod.

"Oh, the pleasure is mine, princess." He laughs and grabs my hand, placing a short kiss on the back "Your father has convinced me to make this journey again, and when he told me that his daughter was directing him I could not refuse" he smiles in the direction of my father and then look towards me.

"Ara, with Flicht we travelled everywhere assaulting all the cities, we fought shoulder to shoulder in each battle when we were young." my father practically screams so that everyone in the room can listen "And I have managed to go this year with all of you to the great ship."

"It is an honour for me to make the trip with one of my father's confidants," I say grabbing one of my father's hands as I look at Flicht with a smile. "We will talk about all the details after breakfast" I warn Flicht, which he listens carefully nodding and then pointing to a chair next to my father. I sit while Flicht accommodates my chair and then everyone continues with their morning talks, enjoying their breakfast.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, I can observe my sisters talking vigorously with Joshua, head of the Montreal City Army; He has been sailing with us for 5 years so he is practically family. He is the same age as Gretta and loves spending time in the Kingdom where he is free of responsibilities. Right in front of me, I can see how Anthon talks with other leaders about women, I can see from the enthusiasm with which he expresses himself. Anthon is also part of the family, he taught me many things about the organization and the attacks; He is my battle mentor.

Breakfast went smoothly with many conversations about future attacks and ambitions that leaders had. After a while, my father gets up and talks. "Very well my gentlemen, it is time, follow Moonle to the office" He points to the servant and everyone gets up to go to the king's office after they had bowed to my mother, the queen, and my sisters. "My love, I am going to do my homework now, but I promise you that we will visit your mother this afternoon," he tells my mother while placing a kiss on her forehead and she nods before he starts walking with me towards the meeting.

We enter the office and they are all already settled around a large circular table where a large map that shows the extension of the kingdom is supported. My father accommodated me in my place as he sits right in the middle of everyone. "The organization of the great ship enters the session" The king knocks on the table.

"I have a question my lord" exclaims one of the men so that my father settles towards his address, "How will we divide the loot?, In the past assaults we have brought less profit than the previous ones, every time there is less to loot in the area and the one who always benefits is the kingdom, sir." Accuses the man.

"What do you want to refer to?" Anthon asks. "We have brought the same thing as the other times and the distribution was done equitably as everyone asked"

"But do you remember when we arrived in Port and they greeted us with celebrations and banquets? They are no longer afraid of us, they just give us things; That is no longer an assault" the man exclaims, almost screaming.

"And you have another idea?" My father asked.

"I do not know! We may not have to use more ships for a while and instead concentrate on each of the cities," he says with a little shame.

"No! Ships are a tradition! They are like rituals for our ancestors, it is a way of honouring them for everything they give us, we cannot stop doing them. The gods would not forgive us!" says Joshua angrily looking at each man.

That was the point for a whole discussion about what the ship truthfully meant to them; the discussion went from being only verbal to being violent, some of the leaders began fighting each other, raising their voices to a point where my father decided to get up from his seat and shout. "Stop fighting! it is not a matter of discussion the profits or the divinity that the ship represents or simply the meaning that they have in the life of each one of us. The abandonment of the ships represents a lack of respect from us mortals" he exclaims looking at each person individually. "I understand what you say and I think that as civilized people we can find a solution," he says as he looks at the man who generated the discord. "But the solution is not going to be yelling or fighting amongst us." The king looks at Joshua.

"I will send Will to neighbouring lands for information. In the meantime, the session is closed and during this time of waiting, I do not want there to be any fighting between you about this. Do I make myself clear?" He asked with the authority of a king.

We all looked at each other and nodded in unison. "Yes, my king", My father nods and heads towards the door to leave the room and meet my mother.

While each one of us began to leave individually and without ushering a word as we continue our routine lives until the notice of the next meeting, which would be within two weeks or so.

That he was supposed to do those two weeks of waiting when we supposedly had to use them to prepare the ship's resources. The situation was already making me angry, things did not go as planned today and nobody helped to improve the situation. We have always done used the ships, every year since my first memory.

I remember my father saying goodbye in the early hours of the morning that same day that they were leaving, placing a kiss on my forehead and saying that he would return and he always did, sometimes in good condition and sometimes not, but he always did.

When I turned 17 my father allowed me to accompany him on the trip that same year and it was one of the best experiences I've had in my few years of life; Of course, my mother did not agree with the fact that I would set sail and fight if necessary but somehow agreed, after my father bribed her with many gifts, something that my mother could never deny.

And so, at the age of 17, I travelled east, accompanied by my father and the best soldiers of the whole city, in one of the ships that marked my life forever, it was the first real experience of something that I would never have imagined and worst of all, it felt amazing.

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I wanna to say thank you to @lets-imagine-fanfics who helped me correct the story! Love you.

And also to @oddsnendsfanfics who conviced me to publish it! ❤

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ask-the-guiding-light-cast · 5 years ago

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Guiding Light turns two years old today!

It’s crazy to think this all began only a couple of years back... and also hilarious it falls on the same day as “International Mystery Dungeon Day” over on Twitter. More after the cut. This is gonna be a long one, so I appreciate anyone willing to read this. ^^

For a long time, I had been a casual consumer of fan fics. It started in the late 2000s when I was in a Spyro craze thanks to the more story-driven Legend of Spyro trilogy. I had an itch that I needed scratched and FFN fulfilled that to some extent. I also looked at some Mario fics, including Paper Mario: The Temple of the Sun, which I greatly enjoyed and thought did a good job adapting the formula that made Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door so beloved and putting a unique spin on things.

But it was until the early 2010s that I actually started getting back into Pokémon games with Gen V. After Emerald, I fell out of touch with Pokémon for a time. When Gen VI came around, I dipped my toe into the fandom through Twitch livestreams, but also through reading a few anime-based fics that are very long and still going, even now.

At the same time, I ended up buying PMD: Explorers of Sky... and damaged my cartridge before I could properly finish the game with my Vulpix/Riolu team. So, I watched cutscenes for what I missed on YouTube, then got Gates to Infinity and, later, Super Mystery Dungeon and had fun with both of them... though more for the stories and characters than the actual gameplay. Truth be told, I don’t care much for roguelikes at all.

It was during the gap in time between Super’s release and the first official footage of Sun & Moon in mid-2016 that I found myself hit with a recurring thought: “What if someone made a PMD story where the hero and the partner are forced to fight one another with the fate of the world at stake?” I wound up (loosely) brainstorming an idea for a PMD story revolving around an antagonistic Hoopa character who would use its ring portals to collect entire communities, including the Pokémon living in them... all so that he would never be bored. This would lead him to “collect” the partner to add to his “toys,” so when the hero shows up, he’d sic the partner on them.

But that was as far as I got with the idea. I ended up graduating college and took a job with late evening hours. It left me pretty tired and exhausted and unmotivated to do much of anything. I withdrew from the parts of the Pokémon community I was involved in.

Then the Generation VII games came out and, while divisive in the fandom, I found myself really liking some of the concepts. There were so many times when I thought, “Gee, I wonder what this would be like if it were in a PMD game?” For example, one of the ideas I had was a sort of edgy rival rescue team akin to Gladion, which would have a Midnight Lycanroc, a Zoroark, and a Type: Null character in it.

So, toward the end of 2016 and early 2017, I started creating an idea for a Choose Your Own Adventure story with the intent of putting it on this really small forum I was a part of. It would be a Gen VII-themed PMD story, but because I didn’t think that sounded interesting enough, I decided that, not only would the human keep their memories, but they would be from the real world and be a major Pokémon nerd. The idea was that the choices the readers made would affect the relationship between the human and partner. I even came up with a point system. The more points the readers earned for their choices, the “closer” the relationship the hero and partner would have and the happier an ending the story would get. If the hero and partner couldn’t stand each other, one of them would likely end up working with the bad guy and winning. If they became steadfast friends, they’d work together to save the world.

Unfortunately, the forum shut down before I got too far into planning it, so I shelved the idea and continued focusing on my job. And things stayed that way for several months, until I ended up getting into med school and scrambling to move.

During the downtime I had when I wasn’t doing moving related stuff, I decided to look at FFN again and found Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Defenders of Warmth. I wound up reading through the entirety of the story quite quickly. I guess you could say it sparked something in my head. The fic itself focuses on what, at the time, was the newest Gen (Gen V). It also has multiple humans and is set on a continent separate from the canon locations (which were just the Air and Grass Continents, since Gates and Super didn’t exist when the fic was written). In short, it renewed my desire to pursue my idea of a Gen VII-flavored PMD story.

So, I set about creating my story outline. It is so... so much different from the actual story, though I’ve gone into that in previous posts (search for #amby answers). Originally, I used Mario & Luigi: Partners in Time as the framework for the fic: an alien invasion in a colorful, comedic world. I took more specific cues, too. Zero was meant to be a (mostly) silent antagonist a la Princess Shroob, for example.

The problem was, I really didn’t have much confidence in myself or my abilities. I’d like to say I was writing for myself, but I really did want validation, too. I think any author is lying to themselves if they say they don’t feel this way at some point. Because of this, I figured if I put the fic on FFN, it would get ignored. The site’s huge! There were, at the time, around 85k fics in the Pokémon section alone. (That number’s since gone up to over 90k!)

Given I had experience with forums, I decided to post it to Serebii, because the fic community seemed much smaller and more open to giving feedback to one another. In an effort to try and, y’know, establish some connections, I actually read other pieces and reviewed them before posting any stories. This also helped me build up a backlog of chapters and prove to myself I enjoyed writing this enough to keep going.

When I finally did post the fic, it was a bumpy start, for sure. I do think I made a lot of mistakes out of the gate, including uploading chapters way too quickly for readers on Serebii to (reasonably) try to keep pace. That probably cost me a few potential readers... or made them silent readers who I never ended up hearing from. Which is why I’m especially thankful to @girl-like-substance (who I can seem to tag, drat) for all of the well-thought-out feedback given throughout the fic’s run. I don’t think I would’ve made such significant strides in my writing otherwise... and there are plenty of long-running fics where the quality tends to stagnate.

In any case... it was thanks to a request from @deliriousabsol to put the fic somewhere more mobile-friendly that I chose to mirror Guiding Light on FFN starting in October 2017. I would’ve kept going on Serebii had she not asked so nicely, so she’s the one you can thank for it showing up there! (She’s a fellow author who does cyberpunk-themed fics and art and her characters have cameoed in the fic.)

And, honestly, I’m just... beyond shocked at what wound up happening to the fic once it hit FFN. Well, actually, for the first several months I was lucky if I even got a comment when I put up a chapter. I’m not sure any of the people who first commented on FFN still follow the fic anymore. I haven’t seen/heard from them at all, so I assumed they moved on with their lives.

In any case, around March of 2018, the word count on FFN passed 300k and... somehow, the fic starting getting more attention. Like, a lot more attention. This was... not really something I was even remotely prepared for.

(Yes, this means there’s gonna be a giveaway. More on that later.) I never would’ve thought I’d reach a number like this. I never imagined I’d meet another PMD author who’d be willing to do a fun collab (thanks @virgil134, Spiteful Murkrow, and Namohysip). I really did not imagine that I’d ever get fanart of characters that I wrote (huge thanks @thebreak-ofdawn, @ask-nicky-and-others, and @cresselia92). I mean, above everything, I not expect the fic or characters to resonate with anybody the way it wound up.

A part of me feels like I don’t really deserve it. I’ve made a lot of serious gaffes with writing this. When initial Serebii feedback had people intrigued by Shane’s jerkass attitude (when I didn’t actually intend for him to come off as a jerk), I dialed things up in the hopes I’d keep their attention. It probably cost me readers. Then there’s the slow pacing of the early episodes and the mistake of making Special Episode 3 as long as it was... which my speaks to my (bad) tendency to give into some of my strongest impulses even though I had an outline I was trying to stick to.

And, I mean, there’s also some of the “shamlessly shameful” stuff I’ve done with the fic. I’m not fooling myself. Guiding Light has grown progressively more furry and, uh, probably fanservicey, too. All the big furbait (and some scalebait) ‘mons are accounted for. There’s a lot more sexual humor when I initially promised myself I would stay away from romance and keep everything platonic. I practically turned Xerneas into waifu bait, if some of these asks are anything to go by. This blog certainly didn’t help in that regard. Maybe I’m just being my usual nervous self?

I am worried that this fic’s performance has, somehow, affected my thoughts and behavior. There are very popular fic authors who let their popularity get to their head... or chose to open up Patreons (something that makes me uncomfortable) or start doing things like taking commissions for written pieces, which is understandable... though I think it’s an easy way to lose your passion for writing. I guess some of that worry stems from a debacle I learned about on a Discord server I’m in, but that’s not something I’m comfortable discussing publicly.

And I haven’t even talked much about the blog itself. Like, it somehow passed 100 followers? Where? When? How? I don’t actually draw stuff like many other Pokéasks. And, like, for a lot of folks, I have no idea if they’ve actually read the fic or just check in on the blog. It’s the same with the fic, I suppose. If you’re a silent reader/follower, I would really love to hear from you! I promise... I don’t bite or anything. I’d love to know what (if anything) you’re thinking. And if you’re a blog that’s following this one and we haven’t interacted, please feel free to reach out! It’s honestly hard to tell if people like what I’m doing, so any feedback is always appreciated.

In any case, if I haven’t lost you by now, I guess all I can say is... thank you. Thank you all so much for all of the support... whether it’s on the fic, the blog, or both of them. I really do hope this final episode can meet your expectations. I’ll try my very best to make this an ending to remember. Nothing would make me happier than to hear you guys enjoy it and feel it does justice to the PMD series.

Sorry for all the rambling. The inbox is open again if you’d like to send any messages for the ficaversary. Again, thank you all so much! You’re the best!

#ooc #long post #fic anniversary

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