#hollow and bittersweet victory that doesn’t feel like a victory

[leliana-sings-mozarts-requiem]

Blatant lovers to enemies erasure

[ezrisdax-archive]

you are weathered and worn your petals soft and torn (the fading color)

B'Elanna loved Seven. So much in fact she'd gotten the Klingon disease known as Hanahaki and had it removed. Too bad she can never let things go. (also here on ao3, please note the tags here in that this has a bittersweet/unhappy ending)

~~

B’Elanna’s gaze swept over engineering but once again no one looked unfamiliar. She still had yet to run into the person that had caused a hole in her memory.

The tapping of shoes on the floor alerted her to a guest and B’Elanna turned to see who it was and ah-

She had no idea who the blond woman in front of her was. Clearly this woman had something to do with the Borg judging by the implants on her face.

Why they had Borg on the ship B’Elanna couldn’t begin to guess but she swallowed her confusion and turned to face the intruder.

“Can I help you?” She asked, arching an eyebrow at the woman.

“I am here to assist you. I took the liberty of going over your latest proposal and it need works.” There wasn’t any softness to the way she said it, point in fact.

B’Elanna gritted her teeth.

The nerve of this woman, just butting into her work without any say so.

And apparently she’d even been in love with her.

She always did have bad taste.

“I don’t need your help.”

And she doesn’t need her at all, B’Elanna thinks. Does this person even know what she did to B’Elanna?

The woman seems taken back by the sudden vitriol in her voice.

“Very well, Lieutenant. I will submit my ideas to the Captain.” She straightens up even more and then walks away.

“You do that,” B’Elanna muttered as she did.

She should probably figure out the woman’s name at least.

~~

When she was a kid and her mother first moved them back to the Klingon homeworld B’Elanna had buried herself in their house to avoid talking to the other children.

They thought she was too soft. Too human.

All she had was her mother and she couldn’t get her thoughts out to her without an argument.

But she still cared as she watched her mother cough out flowers one day.

“Did you eat flowers?” B’Elanna asked, confused. She replicated her mother some water and passed the cup to her.

Miral took it but set it down, too busy looking grimly at the petals around her.

“It’s called Hanahaki Disease.” Miral told her. “A Warrior’s disease.”

And that was all she would say.

The next day B’Elanna hacked into a library database to find out more about it.

Unrequited love.

Even in the cold medical books there was some wistfulness about it; talking about past Klingons who had braved out the disease and beaten it. Their redundant systems were made to take this the book had boasted. The only species who could survive such a thing that came from unrequited love.

There in the footnote of the book was a statistic about how many still died.

Another note mentioned a cure but in a disdainful way that only Klingons could. You could cut out, you could forget everything about that person, not just the feelings. You could be weak.

It took her weeks to bring it up as her mother suffered every night.

“Is it dad?” B’Elanna asked, bracing herself for another fight.

Her mother didn’t answer.

“Please.” B’Elanna’s voice broke. “Please get the surgery. Please forget him.”

There was nothing.

“I need you still.” B’Elanna tried, choking back her tears. Those weren’t the way to convince her mother.

The next day her mother returned and said nothing about her father, but never coughed again either.

The victory felt hollow.

~~

“…if you get to this log then I’m sorry. This must be confusing but let’s face it. There was nothing else to do but forget Seven.”

On the screen her past self talked in her personal log, the last one before the surgery.

She’d woken up in sickbay completely unaware why until the EMH had told her he’d cut the roots out of her and she’d recover fine.

He’d shown her it even, holding it up in a sealed container like a trophy of some sorts.

“I had to search in the darkest parts of my database for this, Klingons are surprisingly reluctant to talk about it.” He had said. “Are there any other ailments that belong to them I should know about?”

B’Elanna had been too shocked to answer, staring at the roots that still dripped with her own blood.

Her father was right.

She was her mother’s daughter after all.

~~

Despite that the disease was gone B’Elanna still though she could taste the blood in her mouth.

She woke up with the breath tight in her throat that morning, like her body was still used to coughing and seized up in preparation.

“You don’t look better.” Harry said, squinting at her from across the table. “I thought you got checked out by the Doc.”

Her log had stated she had told only the Doctor and Janeway. But it felt odd she hadn’t told Harry or Chakotay.

Of course in her position she probably wouldn’t have; both of them would have dragged her to talk to Seven, to do anything else but make a rash decision.

“Still recovering.” B’Elanna waved off his concern. “Just don’t expect me on away missions any time soon.”

She still had to catch up with notes after all least she forget something and slip up.

Harry frowned at her.

Whatever he was about to say next was cut off when a shadow fell over the table. They both looked up to see Seven standing there.

“Lieutenant Torres. Ensign Kim.” Seven greeted. “I see Lieutenant Paris is late once again.”

“You know how it is, pull up a chair Seven.” Harry nodded his head to the seat next to B’Elanna.

Seven’s lips pursed and B’Elanna tried not to snort in amusement.

“Come on Seven it’s not that complicated, he means join us.” The words fell easily from B’Elanna’s lips without thought.

“I am not unfamiliar with the meaning.” Seven replied, taking the seat next to B’Elanna. “I was merely speculating if I was as welcome here as I was in engineering.”

B’Elanna winced when Harry’s eyes widened and he looked at her.

“I was just having a bad day yesterday.” B’Elanna said quickly, taking a sip of her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “And also there’s nothing wrong with my proposal.”

“While sound in it’s logic it could be improved upon.” Seven looked uncomfortable, her hands gripping the side of the chair like she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

A flash of anger came and went. She took a breath that was too sharp against her still healing lungs and started coughing at the sensation.

“You do not appear to be well.” Seven said, her hands which a second ago were so glued to the chairs side were now pressed against B’Elanna’s back and shoulder, holding her up.

“She’s not as bad as she seems.” The personal log in her mind offered. “Could use some more tact but I suppose I’m the last one who can comment on that.”

That log was a year after Seven had come on board.

Had she started falling for her then?

B’Elanna looked at Seven from the corner of her eye, trying to see what it was that had driven her past self to be so in love with this woman.

Cool blue eyes met her own but B’Elanna couldn’t get any reading of emotion from them.

The coffee tasted like blood when she went for a sip again.

“Like I told Harry.” B’Elanna’s lips felt numb as she talked. “I’m still recovering.”

She was always making up for her own mistakes.

~~

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up but the Vidians refused to meet with anyone but me.” Janeway passed her a cup of tea, herbal in nature.

The smell of the flowers made B’Elanna feel sick.

“I understand Captain and really, I’m fine.” She set the tea down and refused to look at it.

Janeway hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing but B’Elanna knew her well enough to know she was concerned.

“And how are things with Seven?”

B’Elanna froze.

“I didn’t think I told you who the feelings were for.” B’Elanna said carefully.

“No.” Janeway replied easily. “You didn’t.”

She reached over to rest a hand on B’Elanna’s arm and squeezed comfortingly. B’Elanna had the strangest desire to start crying.

“But I’m not blind, B’Elanna.” Janeway’s voice was soft, easing the blow. “And I’m here if you need to talk, like I told you before.”

“Thank you Captain.” B’Elanna swallowed hard, blinking fast to keep the tears out.

“Take all the time you need.”

Janeway was nothing like her mother when she got down to it.

B’Elanna thought of Miral anyway.

~~

When she had started at the Academy there were still only a few Klingons around.

B’Elanna had chose not to talk to them.

“You don’t want to see them at all?” Maxwell asked her, a padd propped in his lap for studying. “C’mon BLT, not even a little?”

The nickname gave her a rush of affection like it did every time.

“I’ll pass.” B’Elanna said. “I’ve had more than enough of my share of Klingons.”

Maxwell didn’t need to know that included every time she looked in the mirror.

He didn’t need to know they wouldn’t accept her anyway; there wasn’t a point to trying.

“Maybe you should get out of the Alpha Quadrant then.” Maxwell joked.

“If only to get rid of you.” B’Elanna said back, deadpan but with a smile.

He just didn’t get it.

No one could.

~~

Seven was annoyingly tall.

It was one of the things that struck B’Elanna when she came into engineering again with another padd for B’Elanna to go over.

“I’m not taking the warp drive offline for your experiment Seven.” B’Elanna groaned, looking over the padd.

Seven frowned at her.

“You have before.”

That’s because past me was stupidly in love with you, B’Elanna thought but didn’t say.

“That was then, this is now.” B’Elanna said instead.

She can breathe easier each day, her lungs returning to how they were before all this began. Idly she wondered what type of flower it was that Seven had her choking on. The doctor had removed the petals and thrown them out, all she had seen was the roots and her logs don’t provide any reference.

“I fail to see what has changed.” Seven stated.

“You failed to see a lot.” B’Elanna muttered, her desire to shoot back faster than her ability to stop herself.

“To what are you referring?” Seven is looking at her with that unreadable face again. She’s as smooth as the rocks on Qo’nos.

Once as a child B’Elanna fell onto them off a cliffside.

The Klingon homeworld didn’t have many hospitable places and the landscape was no exception.

She’d broken her arm that way and walked home while stubbornly fighting tears least someone in the street notice and scoff at her lack of resilience.

Now B’Elanna had fallen a different way and this time broke her heart.

“Go away Seven, I have work to do.” B’Elanna turned away from her, ignoring the question.

For a second she though Seven would push the issue and then she heard the telltale footsteps of Seven’s boots as she walked out of engineering.

Out of B’Elanna’s life once again.

~~

“You’ve been different.” Chakotay mentioned later when B’Elanna sat down for their weekly dinner. While they were both on alpha shift Chakotay’s responsibility as second in command meant he often worked later.

Since the mission home had began they’d agreed to at least having a weekly dinner to catch up on everything.

Seska had once been invited to it to.

The less B’Elanna thought about her the better.

“How so?” B’Elanna asked, her voice controlled in a way she wished she could always do.

“Just…something different.” Chakotay rested his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table and squinted at her like he could discern what it was.

“Fine you caught me.” B’Elanna said drily, “Tom lost a bet and had to give me all his replicator rations. It’s amazing what a week without eating spaghetti made out of hair will do to you.” She finished with a smirk.

That part was at least true. Tom had foolishly bet that he’d win the ping pong tournament.

Chakotay huffed and rolled his eyes. “Well can’t say I don’t blame you for feeling better then. That cough you had was worrying.”

“I’m fine Chakotay.” B’Elanna assured him. “Full bill of clean health from the Doc and everything.”

Chakotay hummed. “And the arguments in engineering with Seven?”

“We always argue.” B’Elanna offered but it felt faint.

“I heard you the other day.” Chakotay shot down any hope she had of getting out of the conversation. “It didn’t sound like your usual argument. You sounded out for blood.”

Why shouldn’t she. Hadn’t Seven been the one to make her bleed first?

“I don’t see why I have to accommodate everything for her.”

“B’Elanna.”

“Look, just-” She stopped, trying to think how to end this. “I’m just working through something and don’t need Seven looking down over my shoulder all the time.”

“I thought the two of you were getting closer.” Chakotay leaned back in his chair. “It certainly seemed that way.” There was a glint in his eyes that hinted to more and B’Elanna had a sinking feeling that as with Janeway she’d been found out.

“Maybe you just read the situation wrong.” B’Elanna retorted. “It happens.”

Like with her thinking someone could love her.

The gap in her memory and the pain that had existed in her lungs was proof enough. The disease mocked her. Just another Klingon legacy she didn’t want.

Chakotay sighed and B’Elanna relaxed. She knew that sigh, that meant he’d let it go for now at least.

“Maybe you should try opening up to her again.” Chakotay said, his final say on the matter for the time being.

“I’ll try.” B’Elanna promised falsely.

She’d never do that again.

~~

She’d also never been good at letting things go.

Why, she wondered, why Seven. What was it about her?

Was it how she kept up with B’Elanna in banter and intelligence? Was it the way B’Elanna kept wanting to see Seven unravel from her kept up appearance, just a little? Was it the moments when the ship was in danger and B’Elanna could relax just by having Seven near her, ready to go with any plan provided?

So far no else aside from Chakotay seemed to notice that B’Elanna’s words to Seven had more bite.

“Don’t you have a Unimatrix to do back to?” B’Elanna snapped one day.

Seven did that thing she hated, where she clasped her hands behind her back and stood just a little bit taller than usual over B’Elanna. “I do not seek to return to my old Unimatrix.”

Why, why, why?

“I don’t see why not, you’ve made it clear you don’t enjoy it here.”

“On the contrary, I am perfectly fine right where I am.” Seven said, like B’Elanna’s words were nothing.

“Because Voyager is the only one that will take you?” B’Elanna shot back.

“You misunderstand, I was referring to the current location at this time. But yes,” Seven paused and there it was. The crack in her armor. “Voyager is the only one that will accept me as an ex-Borg. You yourself once stated that.”

“I did?” B’Elanna asked without meaning to, too struck by Seven looking hurt.

It looked wrong, it felt wrong. It wasn’t as vindicating as she wanted it to be.

“I believe as you phrased it as we were ‘outsiders together’.” There was another pause. “But that was a joke.”

Then she turned and walked out of engineering and B’Elanna pretended she couldn’t see the tension in Seven’s shoulder as she held on to her perfect image.

Oh, she thought.

She’d been wrong.

Someone was like her after all.

~~

The air in the shuttle was humid and sweat dripped down B’Elanna forehead as she tightened the bolt of the panel.

“Any luck?” She called out to the front of the shuttle where Seven was attempted to restart the controls.

“While luck has nothing to do with this situation I have not been able to repair the controls. The code appears to be stuck in a loop.”

B’Elanna cursed in Klingon.

“I do not believe that sleeping with a targ will help either.” Seven said drily.

B’Elanna couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Some days I think a targ running wild in engineering couldn’t do any worse than whatever the Delta Quadrant has for store for us that day.” B’Elanna sighed and leaned back to rest against the opposite side of the shuttle wall.

“Perhaps that is just our luck.”

Whether she meant to or not Seven was funny in a way that made B’Elanna laugh.

Was that why she fell in love?

Sometimes she wished she still had the disease. At least then she’d have her answers and not be left with this itch in the back of her mind when Seven was around.

It was a problem B’Elanna desperately wanted an answer to.

“Take a break Seven.” B’Elanna said, shutting her eyes and tilting her head back. “Just a little while and then we can switch and look at our problems with fresh eyes.”

“That sounds like an ingredient Neelix would procure.” There was noise as Seven took a seat across from her but B’Elanna didn’t open her eyes.

She made a face. “If Neelix ever adds eyes to dishes remind me to steal Tom and Harry’s replicator rations.”

“You may have mine.”

B’Elanna cracked an eye open. “You’d eat that?”

“No.” Seven said. “I’d merely request the use of the kitchen to make something else.”

“That’s just because Neelix is a pushover for your big blue eyes.” B’Elanna snorted.

“My eyes are not significantly larger than anyone else’s onboard.”

“Can we just stop talking about eyes.” B’Elanna pleaded, finally looking at Seven properly.

Her hair was pulled out of her usual style, the crash disheveled her in a way B’Elanna hadn’t seen before.

Or maybe she had and just couldn’t remember.

It’d been weeks since her mouth had tasted like blood. Now all that was left was the lingering taste of decay.

Now there was dust she could taste from the crash but it felt distant in the face of Seven looking open and vulnerable in a way that was new to her. It wasn’t a bad look, just a bad circumstance. For a split second B’Elanna was tempted to brush her thumb over Seven’s cheek to wipe away the blood.

“You are staring.” Seven stated, looking back at her.

B’Elanna shut her eyes again.

The silence fell around them.

~~

Maybe, B’Elanna thinks as she looks at Seven, the flowers were yellow carnations.

Rejection.

Or cyclamen for resignation.

Daises for never telling or belledonnas for silence.

Perhaps they were delphiniums to match Seven’s eyes or borages to match her bluntness.

In the end though B’Elanna thinks they were aloes.

Tough to bloom, tough to grow.

Full of grief.

Seven doesn’t look at her at all while she works.

~~

“So are we going to talk about it.” Harry asked as he deposited her back in her room.

She’d been cleared by the EMH to leave but he’d asked Harry to keep an eye on his ‘unruly’ patient for a few hours.

“The crash? It was a malfunction in the engine that-” B’Elanna stopped at the look Harry gave her. “I don’t know what else you mean.”

“I mean you and Seven.” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “B’Elanna we’ve had this talk before.”

Of course they had.

“I know you hate her but the tension between you two is driving me insane.”

“I don’t hate her.” B’Elanna said.

Wouldn’t life be easier if she did.

“I just…”

Harry raised an eyebrow and B’Elanna felt her hands shake.

“B’Elanna?” He asked and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I think I made a mistake.” B’Elanna admitted softly.

“What?” Harry sounded confused but she didn’t look up at him. “You just said it was a malfunction with the engines.”

“Not that.” She laughed but it was a hollow noise. “I should have just let it go.”

“B’Elanna you’re not making sense, should we go back to the Doctor?” His hand tightened on her shoulder, worry lining his tone.

“You ever fall in love with someone you shouldn’t have Harry?” B’Elanna asked, hoping her nonchalant tone could throw him off in any way.

When he was too quiet she finally glanced up.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Harry requested, his voice soft and eyes full of pity.

“Why should I?” B’Elanna tried to dig her heels in, desperately avoiding the conversation. Her lack of filter had gotten the better of her again.

“Because I think if you don’t it’s going to eat you alive.”

He didn’t know how true that was.

But maybe he could.

~~

"It's not the flowers." B’Elanna said in her personal log, her breathing labored and harsh. "It's the stems." B’Elanna had never seen herself look so disappointed. Look so defeated. Some Klingon she made. "The Doctor isn't bad at treating me per say but it's times like these I miss Kes. I spent too long looking up flower meanings, I bet she would have helped." B'Elanna's shoulders fell on the screen. "I'll miss Seven, even if I can't remember her." Her lips twitch in a pale imitation of a smile. "Maybe I'll even still love her." You did this to me, B’Elanna thinks looking at her reflection on the screen. She's suffering in the consequences and can't tell if that hurts worse. Idly she wonders what it would have been like to try to outlive it, to have kept the love she had for Seven deep in her veins, to let the roots destroy her and come back even stronger. Except she wasn't sure she could. At least it made her feel.

~~

“First off you’re an idiot for not telling me.” Harry scolded when she finally spilled the whole story. “Second of all…were you sure?”

“First of all,” B’Elanna shot back, “Respect your elders.” She ignored Harry’s squawk of disbelief at that. “Second of all, “She continued in the same vein as him, “You really think Seven could have been in love with me. Seven.”

“Well maybe you could have asked first!”

B’Elanna shot to her feet and began pacing. “Oh this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, Starfleet. You think talking it out could have fixed this? There is no fixing this. Cutting it out hasn’t even worked.”

Harry paled.

“Do…do you have the disease again.”

“No.” B’Elanna said, stopping where she was.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “But you think you might.” He realized it slowly. “You think you might fall in love with Seven again.”

Her cheeks felt hot.

“It’s just…she’s just…I feel this need Harry. To figure her out. To have her see me.”

“See you?” Harry tilted his head, frowning.

Her heart panged in response. While she did love her friend once again he didn’t get it. He didn’t know what it was like to beg the galaxy to see you for what and who you were and get nothing back time and time again.

Or, her eyes flickered to the pips on his collar, perhaps he did just in a different way than herself.

“You know how you want and deserve that promotion?” B’Elanna asked, sitting back down next to Harry and pressing her shoulder against his. “I feel that way with Seven. And I’ve been going through my logs and I can’t see the moment it changed for me where I wanted that but I understand what my self wanted.”

They were silent, taking comfort in each other for the moment.

“You probably don’t remember this and maybe your logs didn’t say,” Harry began finally, “But when you and Tom didn’t work out you started spending more time with Seven.”

Her logs hadn’t mentioned it and B’Elanna turned to look at him. “Oh?”

“I asked you about it once and you told me something about how Seven wasn’t that bad.”

B’Elanna’s lips twitched. “High praise.”

“From you? Maybe.” Harry teased. “But I thought it was nice, you and Seven work so well together.”

“In our jobs, sure. In anything else…” B’Elanna trailed off with a huff. “I wasn’t cut out for this Harry. I can barely manage a friendship.”

She could barely manage her family, even when now it was just her.

“You’re better than you think.” Harry said and opened his mouth to continue but her door suddenly chimed.

B’Elanna groaned, “Doctor if that’s you then I swear I’m resting and-”

The door opened to show Seven.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Harry stood up. “Think about what I said.” He told B’Elanna as he rushed past Seven with an awkward grin plastered on his face.

“You hardly said anything!” B’Elanna called out to him.

Coward, she thought sourly.

“Ensign Kim appears to be in a hurry.” Seven commented idly, still standing in the doorway.

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Come in Seven. Did you need something?”

Seven walked forward, the door whooshing shut behind her, and cleared her throat. “I came to see how you were feeling.”

“Good as new.” B’Elanna quipped, her smile as fake as Harry’s was a moment ago.

Seven stood there, unmoving.

“Seven?” B’Elanna asked, standing up with a flash of worry. “Are you okay?”

“I am undamaged.” Seven replied. “Our shuttle trip has left me no more worse for wear. I…apologize for not coming to see you sooner, I had to assure Icheb and Naomi I was intact.”

It was almost funny how matter of fact Seven said it, like it wasn’t proof of how far she had come. Like it wasn’t a show of how soft she could be. All too easily B’Elanna could remember walking into the mess hall to see Seven diligently playing kadis-kot with Naomi with the same intensity that she applied to everything else important to her.

There was an ache in her chest at the knowledge that that had never applied to B’Elanna.

Would never apply to B’Elanna.

“You didn’t have to stop by Seven.” B’Elanna said, turning away from Seven, trying to distance herself yet again.

“On the contrary.” Seven tucker her hands behind her back. “I have determined why you have been so awkward with me the last few months.”

B’Elanna raised an eyebrow. “I’m the awkward one?” She couldn’t help but reply sarcastically.

“You had the Klingon disease known as Hanahaki and your feelings were towards me.” Seven said, cutting off all thought to B’Elanna and leaving only panic.

How would her past self feel knowing Seven had robbed her of her breath yet again in a completely different way.

B’Elanna swallowed, waiting for Seven to say more but she just looked at B’Elanna without a word.

“And?” B’Elanna finally said, curling her hands into fists at her side so she didn’t feel the desire to claw at herself. The air prickled against her skin, too hot and cold all at once and B’Elanna for the first time missed the sharp air of Qo’nos because at least breathing that in would mean she wasn’t here in this conversation.

“I am-” Seven began and B’Elanna felt the calm recede all at once.

“Don’t.” She cut Seven off. “We’re fine now. It happened. I dealt with it.” She tilted her head up at Seven, stubbornly daring her to say anything.

The problem was Seven wasn’t one to back off and Seven was always one to challenge her.

It was something she liked about her.

“I see.” Seven said, meeting her gaze cooly. “Should it begin again I request to know.”

“What?” B’Elanna asked taken aback. “Why?”

“There are several Borg technologies designed to have helped Klingons when we discovered the disease upon assimilation. I can assist.”

The worst part was B’Elanna knew she meant that genuinely.

It was meant as sincere help.

Seven cared in her own way. Just not the way B’Elanna wanted her to.

She felt cold in both her embarrassment and anger, a child all over again with no words she could say to fix this situation.

“Great.” B’Elanna said, carefully devoid of emotion. “Thanks Seven, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Seven nodded at her and turned to walk out, leaving B’Elanna alone in a room that felt too dark for the brightly fluorescent lights that shone down on her.

Her throat itched painfully and her eyes watered as she suddenly coughed. The relentlessness of it forced her to bend down, gasping for air without mercy.

Lamprocapnos.

The pink heart shaped petals mocked her, covered in blood and spit and in her in hand.

Rejected love.

B’Elanna shut her eyes, leaning against the closest wall and slowly sliding down it. The petal fell from her hand and she raised her palms to press against her eyes, sending stars skittering across her vision.

“Computer,” She started with a shaky voice. “Start personal log.”

“Recording.” The computer helpfully responded.

“If you’re seeing this you made the mistake again,” B’Elanna huffed a laugh, broken and tired as it was. “You have to stop.” To what she didn’t say.

She’d figure it out.

Survive again.

And again.

And again.

[agent-cupcake]

Cupcake!! Do you listen to music while writing? If yes what kind?

Yes! I absolutely do! I really love music, I’d say it’s secondary to literature as far as my choice of creative input so this is also just my personal recommendations regarding music as a whole with explanations and unwanted commentary because I’m dumb and this is one of my favorite things to talk about.

Firstly, my ongoing(ish) story Beastie and the Bard is musically driven so here are some songs I have on my playlist for that. I tend towards pieces that are melancholy but melodic. Entrancing, perhaps.

Lolita by Ennio Morricone - Contextually, I realize this is a bizarre (even tone deaf) pick given the source material, but... Whatever. This song, in general, just reminds me of Dimitri. Although a heavy, militaristic march might suit him better, the heart rending sound of this song just works for me when I think of him. The piano sets the tone immediately, lingering on some notes in a wistful, sad way. And it is sad, the cello and flute join in to make that clear. But, at a certain point, the instruments begin to dance around together, opening up and almost seeming like they want to resolve the song and create something happier, or at least something bittersweet, only to be drawn back into the uneasy tragedy of the main motif. I dunno, for me, it just absolutely aches like betrayal. 

Shallan’s Lullaby by treefin / Black Piper - This music box rendition of Shallan’s Lullaby from Stormlight was the melodic inspiration for my bootleg lullaby that reader writes for Dimitri (perhaps not the first part as much as the way it shifts around 1:07). It’s haunting.

Isabella’s Lullaby from The Promised Neverland - Pretty self explanatory, I think. This one hits the sweet spot of beautiful and sad, from the harp to the vocals it just fits. 

Howl’s Moving Castle Merry Go Round of Life original and the cover by the Grissini Project - Both versions are incredibly special pieces of music and I’d be surprised if you hadn’t heard this theme before, very good for the more whimsical parts of the story (not that there’s gonna be any more of that).

Shadows of the Lowlands from Xenoblade 2 - While I’m about to recommend this entire soundtrack, this vocal piece is stunning. This guy’s vocals, no joke, sound like a Tolkien Elf. We Are the Chosen Ones is done by the same vocal group and soloist so it’s also making this list although the tone is def a bit different. 

Okay now I’m just gonna point out my favorite soundtracks. For all of these, I have COMPLETELY LEGALLY downloaded most of these from other sites, I’m linking youtube just based on superficial searches to hopefully give you a taste and maybe encourage you to NOT BREAK THE LAW and acquire these soundtracks on your own

Fire Emblem Three Houses - This is obvious and I’m sure you’ve all heard it, but go have a listen if you haven’t. but first, is anyone else disappointed about the Three Houses official release soundtrack? Considering the delay I guess I kinda expected more. Granted, the soundtrack IS phenomenal. Not so much in its entirety, which is emblematic of the game as a whole in some ways, but the set pieces? Unforgettable. This soundtrack is a case study in how powerful a small pool of musical motifs and set-up/pay-offs can be. The little promise of God Shattering Star at the very beginning of the game, Those Who Sow Darkness giving a taste of Shambhala, and then the use of the main melodies of Season of Warfare (Main Theme) and Song of the Nabateans. For the most part, both melodies are used in dramatic songs, creating this unbreakable musical connection between Edelgard and Byleth. Or, if you think about it, Edelgard and the Rhea. For example: the thunder version of Funeral of Flowers doesn’t have the game’s theme, but the rain version does (those two songs were WRITTEN to be layered I stg). And then there’s that somewhat bastardized version of the main theme in At What Cost, highlighting the intended twisting of the usual heroic take on that melody. I do have a potentially unpopular opinion, however. The Apex of the World is boring and tonally dissonant with the final battle in Azure Moon. A lot of people really like Edelgard-Dimitri likes Edelgard! There’s very little heroism in that mission, at least to me, and a song like At What Cost would have fit SO MUCH BETTER. I mean, that is also Edelgard’s theme so hearing that being twisted up into this decidedly more dark song would be thematically appropriate to her ultimate choice. The title also just seems like it suits her and Dimitri. Edelgard claims that she has weighed the cost of war, she believes she is capable of taking on the cost of victory without really knowing what it would be. Dimitri's whole story was him trying to find revenge no mater what the cost and now that he has it, he’s fully understanding what it will cost him. I understand why they would use the traditional hero song to cap the route, but it seems weird that they’d be willing to subvert so many other aspects of tradition while holding to that for a song that, in my opinion, is the least interesting of all the final battle songs. As you can probably tell, At What Cost is a song that is very tonally inspiring to me. I also love Funeral of Flowers (Thunder and Rain separately and layered together), The Long Road, and Roar of Dominion for getting hyped to write.

Final Fantasy VII Remake - Ever since I got this soundtrack, I’ve been addicted. I really don’t have much to say on this one other than just to recommend you give it a listen if you’re even passingly interested in orchestral video game music. There’s some misses for me (specifically the Wall Market stuff and anything that gets into the weird electric guitar/techno stuff) but it’s overwhelmingly fantastic and can work for active listening music and for background music while you write. I’d follow up recommend you get ahold of the Acoustic Arrangements soundtrack. I can’t link you on this one but it’s worth the extra legwork to procure it COMPLETELY LEGALLY. 

Final Fantasy Distant Worlds - I was actually able to see the Distant World’s tour when it swept through Houston and at that point I had no idea what the fuck a Final Fantasy was. At all. However, seeing One Winged Angel live is not something I will ever forget. Ever. This soundtrack is great for some background listening and although it is often too upbeat for my usual tastes, it’s good when I need something easier. Okay. Real talk. I was about to recommend to you a bunch of FFXIV music (the MMO), choice selections from FFXV, and try and dig up some songs that are only available in live recordings. If you like Final Fantasy music, I recommend all of these things. The games are a clusterfuck but the music is even moreso and it’s worth your time if you like this kind of thing.

Xenoblade 2 - See? Told you I was gonna recommend this. Actually, ranking wise, I would say that I like it more than Final Fantasy. This soundtrack is magical. I cannot stress that enough, there is a level of whimsy and beauty that went into this soundtrack that all at once draws upon the genre and being it’s own thing. Like, I get it, there’s a lot of misses. The electric guitar is jarring and annoying. Listen to Sea of Clouds, like, actually listen to it. Listen to Desolation. Pay attention to the motif used in connection with Elysium and then the other songs that its used in. The Power of Jin. This is a sometimes sad but mostly beautiful and whimsical soundtrack that is good for listening and for using as background music. 

Xenoblade 1 - I don’t have as much to say about this one, I don’t feel as if it’s as emotionally resonant as my other recommendations. BUT it is gorgeous. The area themes are wonderful and perfect for setting tone. 

Hollow Knight - Hollow Knight’s soundtrack takes one step back from the drama of the others and revels in its depressive simplicity. There are songs with a more cheerful tone, and the magical whimsy of Xenoblade 2 is very much brought to life in many of the pieces, but for the most part the soundtrack is as gorgeously melancholy as the game itself. One of my favorite things in music is when songs are given new life through new context and the White Palace --> Pale Court transition is haunting. 

Diabolik Lovers - OKAY I KNOW I KNOW hear me out. This soundtrack has no right to be as gorgeous, emotional, or quality as it is. This song, Lovers, is the younger sibling of Lolita’s theme, okay? Thematically, that’s kinda hilarious, but I mean it. If you like that song, give a few of the songs from this OST a chance.

BioShock, BioShock 2, and BioShock Infinite - BioShock 1&2 are different from Infinite. A lot more grungy, a lot more angry and discordant, the strings buzz and there’s a lot more horror to it all. Infinite, on the other hand, is very pretty. Infinite’s soundtrack is about the characters and their journey and feelings. The first two game’s soundtracks are about the ruined city of Rapture. It depends on what you’re in the mood for. I write using Infinite’s music more often, but there’s pieces in the first two that capture this empty, yearning feeling that is good for setting mood.

Pathologic - “Half Life’s soundtrack directed by Genghis Khan.” It’s bizarre. It’s grungy. 

Void (Typrop) - Basically the same deal. I dunno man, I like being inspired by horror.

Outlast - It’s an orchestral horror game soundtrack. Like the game itself, there’s a lot of horror movie inspiration. 

Dishonored 1 and Dishonored 2 - This is mostly background music. It’s a stealth game so it’s kinda uneasy, but I think there’s something really unique. Maybe the instruments? There’s a lot of weird sounds used. 

Higurashi - This is a compilation of horror themed songs from the anime soundtrack, but the VN soundtrack and the non-horror stuff is pretty good, too. Michishirube is my favorite.

Madoka Magica Rebellion - The main anime soundtrack is gorgeous. The bells, the strings, the drama... I’m recommending Rebellion specifically because it’s the more cohesive and story-driven soundtrack. This one is not as horror-ish and weird than the others, it is very beautiful and nice to listen to. Sad, in some parts, too. 

Code Geass and Resurrection - Brass? Got it. Dramatic strings? Got it. Bombastic set piece songs? Triple got it. This soundtrack oozes style. In some ways, that makes it not good for writing, but in others it can. Depends on what you’re writing. I think the melodrama can be incredibly useful for getting my mind in that frenzy state. 

Okay I’m done. Thank you for bearing with me. 

If we’re talking what songs inspire specific things, the Ferdinand piece was accompanied by a lot of the Diabolik Lovers soundtrack and Final Fantasy. When I wrote my sad Felix piece, it was all about Hollow Knight with a spot of Bloodborne and Dark Souls.  

[enarmor]

@ladyleonster sent:

[ Improvise ] - The sender doesn’t know how this dance goes and tries to improvise, dragging the receiver along the way.

She came into this event knowing her evening would be tainted with loss and loneliness but she'd been so determined to make the best of it. It was a chance to see Altena and Leif and spend time with her old friends as well. But it hadn't taken her long at all to ruin even that glimmer of happiness. No, she had to go and drive a wedge between herself and one of the friends she'd made.

She can't sit around all night moping so she takes the final swig of her bottle of champagne and leaves it and Raven's jacket on a table before sauntering up to a certain knight that she just happens to see heading toward the dance floor and she knows won't turn her down.

"Dance with me, Sain!" Ethlyn's voice slurs as she grabs his hand and flowers bloom as she pulls him close. She doens't know the steps but she doesn't care. She sets her hands on his shoulders and moves in time with the music the best she can. "Come on, maybe I'll give you that kiss you've been wanting. Since apparently that's just something I do now!"

Hollow victories aren't just hollow. They're hard to hold onto and they're coarse, like grains of sand slipping through one's fingers. They hardly take a physical form before the weight of sin becomes unbearable. Before the itchy feeling crawling up one's back seizes their arms and chokes them up. More often than not, those bittersweet moments are dropped--clattering to the floor along with any hope of resolution.

In many ways, the quick pain of defeat is preferable. It's easier to be hit in the face than forced to watch something you love be taken away from you.

Such is the fate of our sir knight.

He can smell the champagne in her breath, and more importantly, the desperation in her voice. And as he turns his nose to both--face scrunching into a pitied scowl--he can't tell which is uglier. This is not the Ethlyn he had come to know. Not the gentle-but-firm soul who mended his careless wound while putting a stern foot down against his antics. They've been through the motions before. He knows, more or less, how she sees him--because it's how most women see him. Sain is a fool. Or at least, he's supposed to be. It doesn't feel right when things are the other way around.

"M-My dear, hold on!" he protests, placing his hands onto her shoulders with a firm grip. In a state like this, he doesn't want them wandering. Nor does he want her wandering, potentially to someone who would see her as an opportunity... The Lance shudders at the thought.

"It would be my greatest wish to keep you company, but let's slow down. We've got all night to savor this moment." And by 'savoring the moment' he of course means sorting through whatever mess the Leonster has gotten herself into. With the last of his lightning coiling round her wrist, he seizes the lead in an easy dance. It isn't any trouble for one as experienced as he, so Sain uses it to pass the time and calm Ethlyn down. No big swings, no suddenly twirls. Just the gentle sway of their bodies in-tune with the soft ballad falling onto their ears.

"Besides, we wouldn't want you doing anything you might regret. Just, ah..." Pain seizes his throat. It could be so easy, to just lean in and take her. In many ways, he had been taught to do so. Told that women were the right of knights, that it is a lady's honor to receive a kiss from their hero. But he could never be happy winning like this. Reprimanding aside, Sain doesn't feel as though someone of his caliber needs the help of a bottle of booze.

So he breathes. Maybe next time, once he's charmed her with his word and his word alone.

"...Just dance with me, darling. And forget about what troubles you..."

✢⁎. your sunset

[starwrite-er]

Kiiroibara - Tooru Oikawa x Reader (Hanahaki!AU)

AO3

Summary:

It’s bittersweet, seeing the guilt in his eyes.

I want him to love me the way I love him, and I know he would never wish this fate upon me. He’s a good friend, after all.

But my lungs are aching and I am dying, and a little part of me wishes he suffers the pain he’s caused me too.

❀

The sun is setting as I return home, and I find myself happy.

Bumping shoulders with one of my teammates - Hana Satou - we exchange gossip, the academic year still relatively new, offering fresh stories. It’s our last; we might as well spend it giggling.

The conversation flits from classes to classmates, from practice to rivals, from captain to captain.

“He’s pretty, but he’s so vain! Even if he’s good at what he does, I’m still surprised he landed captain,” Hana says. “You’re actually friends with him - you have to deal with his attitude all the time!”

“Nah, he’s kinda insufferable, but I love him really.” I laugh, punching my friend’s shoulder lightly. She snickers along with me, rolling her eyes.

I clear my throat. And then again. Hana glances at me, giving an odd look, so I make my final cough as dramatic as possible.

She laughs. I would too, but there’s something stuck to my tongue-

My blood runs cold.

“[Y/N]? You okay?”

My friend has stopped a few steps ahead of me, looking back with a concern-laced expression. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying desperately to keep myself from panicking.

I pluck the object from my mouth. I crack open my eyes. My bag thumps to the ground as I catch sight of the petal.

I follow soon after, falling hopelessly to my knees as I clutch the yellow petal, unable to tear my gaze away even as my vision blurs and I begin to hiccup. I’m vaguely aware of shoes pounding on the ground before arms wrap around me.

This makes no sense. I’ve never even considered that kind of attachment. How could this be happening?

I wail.

I don’t love him. I can’t love him. He’s one of my closest friends, I’ve never felt like that before. I can’t love him, I can’t-

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Hana stokes my hair, cooing empty reassurances to me as I cling to her, trying to drown out my inaudible ramblings with her own voice. There’s a tremor in her words. She’s crying too. She’s scared. “We can fix this. You’ll be okay.”

I acknowledge the hollow feeling in my chest, the nausea that claws its way up my throat.

“You’ll be okay.”

I almost want to laugh, hysterical.

“You’ll be okay.”

No, I won’t.

The yellow petal is crumpled in my grip, shadowy lines and creases marring its former beauty.

What the fuck it that supposed to symbolise anyway?

❀

I start to pick my words more carefully from that point onward. One petal was enough to send me spiralling, but maybe - just maybe - it was a fluke, a side-effect of me joking about loving him. If I refuse to believe I’ve been afflicted, maybe it won’t continue.

A voice in the back of my mind hisses at me, berating my naive hope. I ignore it.

It was right, though.

The second I lay eyes on that stupid mop of brown hair I feel a scratch in my throat. I try to stifle it, try to stuff the feeling away. It just makes it worse, and the petal comes spurting out my mouth anyway.

I conceal it before it’s noticed.

“You okay?” Iwaizumi raises a brow at me.

“Yeah, just think I’m coming down with a cold or something.”

A brief pause. “It’s late spring.”

I falter and shrug, playing the comment off. “Beats me. Must have allergies or something.”

That’s the end of the conversation.

❀

I feel Hana’s worried gaze burning holes in my blazer wherever I go.

I ignore her and the tickling in my throat. I don’t need her concern, I can handle myself. This isn’t a problem.

❀

It’s okay, I’ve decided. Uncomfortable, but okay. I really am fine. The initial breakdown when I realised what was happening to me was the worst part, the hardest hurdle to get over, but Hana was right. It is okay. I can handle a petal or two a day. This is liveable. I’ve adjusted over the past fortnight.

Yeah, I realise that’s a fucking lie when I see his stupid charming grin, playing the part for his admirers.

Smack.

I lose myself in the repetitive serve drills, tossing ball upon ball into the air and hitting them until my palm feels raw.

Smack.

They’re not the ones hacking up rose-filled lungs. Their infatuation means nothing. They haven’t truly been by his side over the years the way I have.

Smack.

God, then why does it hurt so much?

“[Y/N]-chan! I thought I heard someone in here-“

“Fuck off.” My words are so sharp, so cold, I myself am taken aback. I glance for a mere second at Oikawa in the doorway, finding him wearing an uncharacteristically surprised expression. I feel a seed of guilt needling at my conscious but don’t speak up.

The last volleyball bouncing to a still is the only sound in the gym as I take my leave.

❀

I stare at the petal caught between my fingers for a beat longer before shoving it away, out of sight and almost out of mind.

“Iwaizumi?”

“Yeah?”

“D’you know what yellow roses mean?”

He blinks at my strange question, a flicker of suspicion passing over his face. “No-“

“Why are you asking him? It’s not like he’s the one getting flowers.” I suck on my teeth at Oikawa’s interjection.

“Okay then, do you know what yellow roses mean?”

A pause. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Nope.”

I glare at him. How is he the reason I’m-

No, thinking like that is no help.

“Stop being a prick.” Iwaizumi says with a swift smack to the back of Oikawa’s head.

“Ow!” The setter pouts, rubbing the back of his skull and shooting his childhood friend a look before turning his attention. “Why the sudden interest in flowers anyway, [Y/N]-chan?” I don’t answer, progressively getting more flustered as he leans into my personal space. It feels as though the closer his proximity, the more the rosebush in my lungs grows. His sly smile and lidded eyes don’t help. “Is there something we should know? A secret admirer, perhaps?”

I swallow thickly. “Something like that.”

I feel a burning in my chest. I can’t tell if it’s humiliation, unrequited love, or both.

Iwaizumi drags him away from me before I’m forced to elaborate. “Stop being weird, shittykawa.”

I take advantage of Oikawa’s moment of indignant distraction to cough up the rosebud in my throat.

❀

Beads of sweat tickle as they drip down my face, my eyes wide and heart pounding as the rally keeps going. We just need this one more point to win, but it’s turned into a seemingly never-ending stream of hits and call-outs.

The tone of the ball colliding changes. Wood rather than skin.

A painstaking beat passes.

The whistle blows and the scoreboard changes.

The Aobajohsai crowd erupts while our team is dragged into a happy huddle, victory firmly within our grasp. Grins and laughter accompany the congratulatory slaps on each others’ backs.

I struggle to catch my breath, smiling despite my aching lungs.

I glance around the gymnasium, feeling a pang of pity for the opposing team but a rush of pride surges through my veins as I see my schoolmates in the stand waving, beaming at us.

Next to them is the Aobajohsai boys volleyball team, and amongst them is a far too recognisable figure.

Catching sight of him, it feels like the roots have woven through my ribs and suddenly constricted, winding me, forcing the corolla from my deteriorating lungs.

My ears ring as I splutter, knees hitting the floor painfully. I grab at my shirt as if it’ll provide me any relief, tears spilling over and mingling with sweat as I heave. I’m barely aware of the panic surrounding me, my teammates yelling for help as someone slams my back to try and help dislodge the floral arrangement in my throat.

A vaguely conscious voice in the back of my mind notes how terrible yellow and red look against white and blue.

...Red?

For the first time, the yellow rose petals scattered around me are flecked with blood, staining my pristine uniform where they touch.

It offers a vile, unwanted moment of clarity.

It’s almost too late.

As I gasp for air, lightheaded, I begin to sob, clinging to myself as all the eyes in the room watch me.

“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- it’s gross and-“

“How long?” The coach cuts me off. She sounds angry, but her eyes betray her fear.

“A few months-“

“Since the beginning of the academic year.” Hana cuts in. Tears mar her face. She clings to me, but I feel her hands trembling.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” The coach sounds furious.

“How could I?” I cry out. “I- I’m dy- I’m-“ I swallow thickly, dropping that attempted sentence. My words sound meek, foul on my tongue. “I can’t be in lo- I can’t. I’m not-“

“Who is it?” I glance up at the firm voice. The tremble in it is almost unnoticeable, but Iwaizumi’s fists are clenched and I know he’s trying so hard to hold it together. Guilt needles at my heart for causing those closest to me such grief.

Beside him is the root of the problem, disbelief written across his face.

I feel the corners of my mouth curl downwards.

“It doesn’t matter.” Every syllable is bitter, laced with resentment.

“Yes, it does!” Oikawa snaps. “Stop acting like you’re above us and either talk to them or cut the flowers out-“

He shuts up at the sound of my dry, sardonic laugh.

“Don’t,” I say. “Just, don’t. I don’t want to hear it from you.”

More of my tears spill over, and for those that heard me, it seems to click.

Iwaizumi sighs, closing his eyes. Oikawa is frozen in place. Hana tugs my arm lightly, a weak attempt to pull me away from the staring contest I’ve initiated with the man I’m apparently in love with.

“That’s why you were asking about yellow roses a while back,” Iwaizumi mutters. “I should’ve known-“

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” I interrupt his self-berating. A strange calm has come over me now that my secret is finally out for all to see, in the form of a bloodied flower on the floor nonetheless. “Seriously. It’s my problem, not yours.”

Nobody wants to accept that, but there’s a helpless second of silence. It’s hard to argue when there’s no clearcut solution.

“What did they mean?”

I blink.

“What?”

“The flowers,” Oikawa’s voice is quite, but his gaze is unwavering. “What did they mean?”

A new wave of tears spring to my eyes. I try to wipe them away nonchalantly, as if speaking to him isn’t causing me immense pain. “Depends. According to Japanese tradition, they mean jealousy, which... well, it’s not entirely inaccurate,” I shrug, feeling as though I’m confessing my sins. I always did wish I was as fine a setter as he is. “But in the west, yellow roses mean friendship and devotion.”

It’s bittersweet, seeing the guilt in his eyes.

I want him to love me the way I love him, and I know he would never wish this fate upon me. He’s a good friend, after all.

But my lungs are aching and I am dying, and a little part of me wishes he suffers the pain he’s caused me too.

❀

My condition accelerates after that unspoken rejection. Over the coming weeks I find everyone’s eyes seemingly following me wherever I go, hushed whispers of pity and fear accompanying their gaze. There’s always a bloody tissue in my pocket. There’s always thorns scratching at my throat.

I’m kept under near constant surveillance. Everyone begs me to have the plant removed.

Nothing changes. He still doesn’t love me, even if I’ve accepted I love him.

At first my denial kept me from taking that course of action, but now I think I just don’t care enough anymore.

It’s an interesting way to go, at least. A tragedy, of course, but still not the norm. I find a vague comfort in this.

People will remember me.

❀

I’m so, so tired of the pity I’m constantly presented with.

More than ever, I don’t want it now. Not when his silence speaks volumes.

He swallows thickly. “I’m-“ He inhales deeply, steeling his nerves I assume. It’s not like him to appear this... weak. “I’m sorry.”

I stare at him blankly. He stares back. If he’s expecting an answer - which he presumably is - he doesn’t show it.

I shrug.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it is-“ There’s an edge to his voice and he catches himself. “If I just did something, you wouldn’t be-“

“You don’t love me, and that’s not your fault. It’s not your fault I love you, either. We can’t change it.” My interjection is soft-spoken, reassuring.

But my jaw is clenched. I shouldn’t be the one comforting him right now.

He swallows his words again, tears welling up and spilling over and I almost roll my eyes.

Then he gently takes my hands in his and squeezes them, and with a pang in my core I recognise his sincerity. Years of unconditional friendship doesn’t just vanish, and assuming he’s just trying to clear his conscious before I go is a stupid thought. I of all people should know his motives better than that. Guilt nestles itself amidst the thorn bush woven into my chest.

Ignoring it is easier though.

Acknowledging it just makes things hurt.

❀

I’m alone when it happens.

I cling to my poetic end when I realise this is where I coughed up the first petal. Unlike then, there is no one to comfort me, to assure me things will be okay. I pushed everyone away in a vain attempt to protect myself from the inevitable, and devotion only goes so far.

It’s better this way. Less traumatic. Nobody’s memory of me needs to be marred by the image of petals, blood, and bile spilling from my lips, my face fading from red to purple as I struggle to breath, eyes bloodshot and weeping. My knees and palms scrape against the concrete, nails clawing at my throat.

The acrid taste pervades my senses - stomach acid burning my mouth and the metallic tang of my own blood staining my tongue. It’s vile, it’s bitter, and it hurts, and it’s exactly how I feel about this situation, about my final moments. It’s not fair.

My vision is patchy, darkening, a vignette cast over a golden world.

The sun is setting as I struggle to recover, and I find myself resentful.

[bearmyshielf]

(Based on the phanthop au created by the lovely @roseltheteacup and @alittlewriter ! Hope you dont mind me doing this, but your au made me sad so I had to write something. Now it’s 1 AM, so off to sleep I go!)

—-

Phantump, the stump Pokemon. According to old tales, these Pokémon are stumps possessed by the spirits of children who died while lost in the forest.

—-

He likes his new trainer.

Lee is kind, and gentle, and he smiles like everything will be alright, now that he’s here. Lee doesn’t mind holding his hand, or peeling the crusts off his sandwiches, buys him chocolate ice cream and cookies and when the skies are clear, brings him to see the stars.

(Back in the forest, it had been dark, so dark. What sunlight he had seen was the little streams of gold that would peek through the leaves on good days, and darkness so complete it frightened him every other day. He had wandered, not knowing what he was missing, what he needed to find, just that he needed to find something. He had memorized every blade of tall grass. He had climbed every tree. He learned how to hide, how to keep quiet, how to make himself small. He learned what was safe to eat and wasn’t, how to see in the dark. He learned how to survive in a forest that seemed intent on swallowing him alive, and he had to do it alone.)

With Lee, he’s never alone. His trainer is always always there, a presence larger than life and just a smile bright as the sun. Lee takes him everywhere, and tells jokes, and makes curry just the way he likes it whenever he wants, wherever they are.

(Colorful mushrooms lighting up hidden paths and rocky mountains with gravel underfoot and the smell of salt by the ocean and rolling meadows filled with Woolos and clouds drifting by a giant window fat and lazy and gem encrusted walls and warm water and and and-

And Lee. He’s there. He’s always always there.)

—-

The first time he sees Lee battle, it’s at the very top of a tower that reaches the clouds.

He doesn’t recognize the other trainer, but they look scary, with the determined looking scowl tugging on their lips and the sharp look in their eyes. A part of him wants to curl up and hide, find a crevice and make himself small, the way he did back in the forest when the bigger Pokemon went by. He doesn’t though. Lee is right there, and he wants to be brave.

The fight is short. The fight is brutal. He watches, agape, as Charizard grows large, larger than any tree he’d ever seen, any pokemon he’d ever meet. He watches as the battle ends in a flash of orange fire, the ends of his leaves warming up as it rushes by.

The battle ends. His awe does not end with it.

Later, they make camp next to Lake Outrage, and Lee has gone to gather some berries. It’s just him and the rest of the team. He gives the others a friendly wave before he floats over to where Lee has left his things, hunting for the red and white balls that he’s always seen trainers with. It isn’t hard to find one, buried under strange pictures and a folded cape. He lifts it and chortles with glee, the sound echoing a hundred times over as he tosses it up and catches it again.

(He remembers the way Lee had done it, powerful arcs and deliberate movements. He remembers how he had felt- like his breath had been stolen- like there’s a sharp ache somewhere inside him, a dull throbbing that won’t go away, heat and ice making his vision blur. It hurt, but in a good way, and he wants that. He’s sure he does.)

It’s hard to imitate his trainer, but he tries, heaves the ball up to his chest and starts to turn around. He gets dizzy soon enough, and does that mean it’s time to let go? He does, and stumbles in midair as the ball leaves his hands to curve upwards gracefully and land on the grass some distance away.

Next to it, Lee, who drops the berries and plates he’s been holding, who’s hands rise up to cover his eyes as the dishes shatter, a thousand little shards sent in all directions. He watches, paralyzed, as his trainer’s shoulders tremble, like they’re caught in their own internal earthquake.

He rushes over, dives into Lee’s chest and clings to his shirt. Lee doesn’t hesistate- his hands come down to cradle him against their chest, shaking, shaking, shaking. He feels something drip on his branches and makes a low crooning noise, a rumbling purr he’d seen Meowths do to comfort their trainers, until Lee’s hands aren’t trembling so much and his shoulders art still.

Lee exhales. It’s a shaky, hollow sound, like someone has torn out his soul, and he never wants them to sound like that again, never, never again. He swears that, even as the rest of the team comes close and Charizard’s wings spread to curl around them.

(Later on he tries to pick up the shards left on the grass, but Lee stops him with red rimmed eyes. “It’s fine.” They murmur as he watches sadly. “You’ll cut yourself; let me do it.)

—-

“Phan?” He asks, confused. Lee smiles at him, pats the air next to him. They’re in the town with budews sleeping in the gardens and a large house nearby, looming.

(He doesn’t like that house. The last time Lee had brought him there, he had felt small: he had felt afraid, and alone, like he was back in the woods and all he could see were shadows. He had run away, and Lee had tore open the countryside looking for him, until his voice cracked and his shouts became whispers. He came back eventually, and Lee had hugged him so fiercely as they begged him to never leave like that again. It took five days before Lee could speak without coughing up blood. Five days of worry and guilt, and the knowledge that his trainer cared enough to look for him, to push himself that far. He doesn’t know why, but he feels like no one’s ever done that for him before.)

“I have someone for you to meet.” Lee smiles. There’s no stumble to their voice. He floats over, confused, as they continue. “Look, here they come now.”

He looks at the direction Lee is pointing and sees a Dubwool, being led by a woman with a shock of orange hair and followed by a Yamper. He looks at Lee, even more confused, but then the Dubwool tackles him.

There’s a commotion and flurry of movement around him, but his vision is filled with white wool and bright eyes, gleaming. The Dubwool nuzzles him, mindful of their horns. It’s you. They say, their voice trailing off to a celebratory bleat. It’s you! You’re back! You finally came back!

He wants to ask who they’re talking about. He wants to ask if they’ve met. Instead, he says nothing at all, as he buries his face in their coarse wool and wonders why this all feels so familiar.

—-

He’s been with Lee for three months when another new face appears.

The trainer looks young, and he doesn’t know them but- he feels like he should, for some reason. They look at him with wide wet eyes and it feels familiar, the way the Pokemon Lee had introduced him to had all felt familiar, like the woman with orange hair had felt familiar. Like it was something he’s forgotten, something he’d witnessed once in a dream.

“...Hey.” They whisper cautiously, picking at the edge of their sleeves with their nails. They’re still watching him with those wide wide eyes, huge and terrified. “Is it really you? Hop?”

That’s his name. He knows that at least, had been there when Lee called him that for the first time. He gives a shrill giggle, and they smile. He thinks that it’s a good expression on them.

“I thought I would never see you again.” The trainer’s lips wobble, and they use their hand to rub at the corners of their eyes. “We didn’t even get to say goodbye, yknow? I didn’t even notice you were gone, not until Leon did.”

He doesn’t understand what they’re trying to say. But he notices the way they’ve begun to curl inwards, eyes on the ground as they struggled to breathe. He knows what that means.

(He doesn’t know this trainer, with their sad smiles and shaking voice, but he knows already that he cant stand to see them cry.)

He floats forward as their eyes begin to droop, the weight of their tears pulling the edges down.

“And I stole your dream even though I didn’t really want to be champion, and I never said anything to you, and I didn’t look for you, I didn’t try and find you-“ they suck in a noisy breath, ribs rattling. “I was so happy to be number one I forgot about you, even though you were always there when I needed you, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

He noses his way into their arms, as their frame is wracked with heavy sobs that seem to take everything out of them. “I’m sorry-“ They croak, voice cracking, and repeat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry- Hop, I’m sorry.“

He doesn’t know what they’re apologizing for, but he decides he’s forgiven them for it. He buries his face into the crook of their neck and listens to the apologies whistling out from between their teeth.

—-

He’s watching his trainer battle his rival and he feels something like pride, something a little more bittersweet- he watches them trade blows and something in him rings hollow, like a strike against an empty glass of water.

“I’ve never met a Phantump before.” The little girl next to him says. He cocks his head. “There’s never been any near Hammerlocke. And anyway, you’re the only one that has purple leaves.”

Was he? He bats at the purple foliage peeking out of his stump, wondering. Maybe that made him special. The girl watches him through the corner of her eyes.

“Though, we’ve met before, haven’t we? I asked your friend to deliver a letter for me. You were there too. You helped.” She smiles and smiles and keeps smiling, but she’s gone perfectly still.

He blinks in confusion.

“I never thanked you for that.”

She reaches out and pats him on the side of his head, and still confused, he lets her. “It’s not too late for you. You have got to remember.”

“Hey!” Lee calls from below. He turns to look at him: he’s flushed and grinning from victory, as his rival sighs over their rotom phone. “Come on, let’s go!”

He begins to follow his trainer, but not before sparing one more look behind him.

The little girl is not there.

—-

There’s a trainer waving a feathered stick around.

He floats over to investigate, the chiming of the bell alluring despite himself. The trainer chuckles as he bats at the toy, arms moving to and fro to attack it.

“I heard who you are.” The Trainer mutters as the toy begins to slow. Their eyes stay locked on him. “I heard it from the Champion. You’re Hop, aren’t you?”

That’s his name, so he nods. The trainer huffs out a brittle laugh, looking away and running a hand through his mess of unruly curls.

“...It was my fault.”

They don’t wait for him to understand. They barrel on, the words leaving them in a rush.

“You- you were ten. I was ten. Shit, we were stupid little kids, and I... I said that to you, and you disappeared, and I’m so fucking sorry for that. It was my fault.” They sigh. “What I did was unforgivable.”

He watches as they fiddle with the collar of their pink shirt, unable to meet his eyes. For some reason, he feels a stab of deja vu.

“Just... I’m glad you’re happy now, at least.”

—-

In the end, all it takes is a realization.

He’s sitting in Lee’s help and the thought strikes him how many friends he has now; how many memories shared. He’s sitting on Lee’s lap and all he feels is safe: all he feels is content.

(He thinks of the familiar Pokemon and the trainer with huge eyes and everyone else he had met, and he thinks of lonely days in a wood filled with fog and thinks that he is happy with what he has now.)

“I love you.” He hears Lee whisper as they poke at the fire, and he- he wants to respond.

(He’s warm and safe and happy, surrounded by companions, watching the stars twinkle overhead, and he’s never felt farther than his origins before: like the years he had spent in those woods never happened, like he never had to learn how to be small and safe. The darkness seems so far away, with the campfire spitting embers into the distance. He’s here, and he’s happy, and it feels like a dream come true.)

“Love you too Lee.” He whispers, actually whispers, with a voice that isn’t a chorus of screams, and-

-something in his soul slides right into place, and clicks.

(He isn’t lost anymore.)

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

Chapter Forty One - For The Love Of Shell

Welcome to chapter forty one bitches!! Take a gander and thank you for those who have been reading my baby!

Start at the beginning I dare you

The once empty arena was now filled with competitors and spectators a like. The turtles stayed in the middle congratulating their youngest brother of his victory, mingling and stepping aside as others applauded Michelangelo as well.

After a while Usagi and Gen found them in the chaos as well as Asunaa few minutes later who stayed back just a bit keeping them all in her sights. The rabbit kept in front of Leo, hoping to catch his attention.

“I can’t believe you beat Aurora!” Raphael laughed smacking Mikey’s carapace sending him stumbling forward with the force of the blow.

Mikey was ecstatic, he had won, they were never going to hear the end of this he chuckled to himself taking a high three from Donnie. The only thing that could make this triumph better was if Aurora was there celebrating with them. Even though he had beaten her in battle he could tell their kunoichi was proud of him as she vanished beneath him. It was a bittersweet victory that was for sure.

After the crowd filtered into the arena Mikey was happy to see Usagi and even his friend Gen when they found them in the crowd and congratulated him on his win. But when Asuna appeared a few minutes later staying a few feet from them, her eyes always on Leo, his high quickly faded. Nonchalantly he moved his body in between her and Leo blocking her eye sight of his eldest brother.

As the arena started to clear out, it was announced there would be a giant feast prepared for the contestants and would be ready in an hours’ time. The turtles moved about the thinning crowd and headed towards the palace. They found Master Splinter with the Daimyo in the throne room along with Ue-Sama. When they entered the massive room the Daimyo’s eyes lit up with pride.

“Michelangelo, I believe there are congratulations in order for your win today young man. You should be very proud of yourself as should your family on this day. You have defeated the best in the universe to become the Battle Nexus Champion. There will be a ceremony tomorrow in your honor, where you will be presented with a trophy for first and Aurora for runner up.” The giant man came up to Mikey and rested both hands on the young turtle’sshoulders; his smile was from ear to ear.

“Speaking of Aurora, do you know where she is? I’d like to congratulate her as well. It was neck and neck for a while.” Mikey asked sheepishly looking up at the Daimyo.

Leonardo watched Ue-Sama out of the corner of his eye looking for a reaction from the Daimyo’s son and got a sour reaction when Mikey asked for Aurora’s location. The red haired ninja squeezed his fists in frustration and stepped forward ready to respond for his father. “She is fine and does not wish to be disturbed by you.” He hissed lowly glaring at Leonardo even though he didn’t ask the question.

“Myson, please show some respect to our friends and honored guests. They are heroes in these lands and should be treated as such.” The Daimyo snapped quietly at his son. “If she doesn’t want to see them she will need to tell them herself. We do not meddle in other people’s business. Aurora is a good woman and is not a poor sport. Let her decide is she wants an audience with Michelangelo and his family.”

The green eyes of Ue-Sama grew dark and bowed to the four turtles and their rat father, “My apologies, the last time I saw her she was entering her room. But I have a feeling she will be attending the feast shortly, so you could probably find her there.”

“We shall find her there; we will leave her to get ready.” Master Splinter smiled respectfully at the angry ninja retuning the bow before ushering his sons from the throne room.

“My friend!” The Daimyo called after them catching the old rat before he left. “Please join me for dinner this evening while your sons enjoy their feast and merriment with their fellow competitors. They do not need their fathers hanging around.”  

“I would be most honored Daimyo.”

Leonardo sat next to Usagi at a large table in the middle of the large town square. Mikey and Donnie were across from him and Gen and Raphael were talking one person down from Usagi. The meal was brought out and devoured by everyone. They had yet to still see Aurora at the feast, but they couldn’t find her face in the mass of bodies. An hour passed after the meal had finished and the tables were cleared,and a gigantic bonfire was lit along with a band that played upbeat music.

Several people got to their feet dancing happily to the steady beat of the band in the distance. The flames of the roaring fire seemed to sway with the bodies that moved around it’s towering inferno. Donnie and Raph had moved from the table to mingle with the people of the city and warriors of the tournament. Gen had wandered away earlier looking for more food to eat.

Usagi stayed beside his friend in blue watching him and Michelangelo banter back and forth over the table. A smile played over his lips watching the two brothers laugh and reminisce longing for the close connection he never had when he was growing up. The more he hung out with the turtles the more he envied their closeness which made him want to spend more time with them. More so the blue leader who he seemed to have a lot in comment with, very quickly they were becoming close friends. And for knowing him for such a short amount of time he could see the sadness in his eyes. Leonardo’s gaze floated over the crowd searching for that one face, the one he longed to have back in his life. Actually, he could see all four of them searching for Aurora. Even fully focused in on the conversations they were having, they still looked for her face in the crowd. His long ears twitched sensing someone watching them, turning around in his seat his cold glare found Asuna just behind them. Her fingers pointed to herself and back to them indicating she wanted permission to join them. With an angry huff he shook his head and turned back around to his terrapin friends ignoring her. That stunt she pulled earlier today was cold and calculated something he would not forget or soon forgive.

Leo laughed at his little brother who had just made a joke at Gen’s love of food. The rhino had eaten his full meal plus part of Leo’s and Usagi’s, yet still wandered away for more. His love of gambling was apparent as well when he tried to make a wager with Usagi about who could eat their roast faster. Usagi chuckled but politely declined his friend, knowing full well the rhino would win. “My friend you know that would be a foolish wager to take.”

Usagi was a little older than him but Leo was finding he enjoyed the ronin’s company. He could tell even with the short time in knowing him he was a trustworthy ally and quickly becoming a good friend.

Out of the corner of his eye Leo took in a sharp breath, the face he had been looking for all night finally appeared past the dancing flames of the bonfire. Aurora had finally made an appearance at the celebration. Out of her gear she had a dark grey skirt on with a slit up the side ending mid-thigh and a dark blue shirt that hung off one shoulder semi exposing some sort of marking, a tattoo perhaps? She was talking with a few of the contestants oblivious to him and his brothers.

Mikey could see the change in Leo’s demeanor and followed his line of sight finding Aurora just on the other side of the fire. His muscles flexed as he stood from his seat eager to get to her. He could feel the air shift behind him telling him Leo was now standing as well. Quickly they maneuvered around the table making a beeline for their friend. A few females stopped in front of them trying to get Mikey’s attention gaining a few moments of their time.

Ending the conversation quickly they bid the three females goodbye and continued their trek to Aurora’s location but when they reached the spot she had been previously their kunoichi was nowhere to be found. Frantically they searched the faces again and found Raphael a few feet from them pointing across the way. She was now on the opposite side of the fire nearly the same spot they were in talking to Usagi. She laughed at something he said and gave the large samurai rabbit a hug.

Moving as quick as possible without bringing attention to themselves, Leo, Mikey and now joined by Raph raced towards where they had left Usagi. But again she was gone and Usagi was sitting back at the large table.

“Where did she go bro?” Mikey called coming up behind the rabbit.

“Who? Aurora? She was just here a few seconds ago.” Usagi stated looking around a little confused.  “She just wanted to say hi but took off rather quickly.” Usagi looked up at his frantic friend searching the crowd for their friend and chuckled. “I think she’s trying to avoid you my friends. Might be smart to let her be.”

Raphael let out a frustrated sigh, “Screw that, I wanna see her and I wanna see her tonight.”

Soon Donnie came jogging up to his brothers, “Hey I just saw Aurora over there, I tried to get to her but she disappeared.”

“Yeah we know we tried too. She thinks she can avoid us but she’s got another thing coming.” Leo smiled formulating a plan in his head.

Aurora had successfully avoided Donnie and was hiding behind a large statue of a large unknown warrior having a discussion with the one of the warriors she had fought today in the tournament. It was going to be a busy night keeping tabs on the turtles to keep them at arms distance.  She couldn’t bare being around them, their smiles, their smells were too painful to endure. Her two incidents with Leo and Mikey proved her body couldn’t be trusted when around them. It was drawn to them and it was something she couldn’t help. After Japan everything was different, it felt like they were a part of her, an extension of her being. She found the year without them had left her feeling hollow and unfulfilled, a feeling she had never felt before. Like she was missing part of her soul.

A new song started from the band a little slower then what they were usually playing. The beat soft and slow she found herself swaying a bit with the melody. A large hand tapped her on her shoulder and she turned around to face a large rhino man with a white kimono with two red claw marks on each breast. His hand came out offering it up to her.

“This is my favorite song and I was wondering if you’d like to dance?” He asked quite sweetly.

Aurora cocked her head and smiled, if she was dancing she wouldn’t need to worry about the turtles talking to her. Taking his hand, she agreed, and he immediately brought her to him wrapping his arm around her waist and began moving to the beat around the large fire. For such a cumbersome being the Rhino was a rather good dancer.

“The name is Murakami Gennosuke, but you can call me Gen.” he started with a sly smile. “You’re very gifted with the katana. I thought for sure you would beat the orange terrapin today, but I could see you were a bit distracted. Why was that?”

“Ummm, he was a friend. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. So, it was a bit difficult to fight him.”

Gen looked down at her puzzled as his arm pushed back dipping Aurora, “Was? You don’t seem the type of human to lose friends. Plus, you’re here in a tournament with every species and alien known in the universe so I can’t imagine it’s because he’s a large green turtle?”

“It’s a long story I really don’t wish to get into, it’s rather painful. But I do miss him, and his brothers more than they could ever know.”

The sly smile on his face widened as he curled her into his embrace, “Good cause they miss you too!” With a push he spun her out into the crowd landing squarely against a hard chest. The first thing she saw was sunglasses and a large chain necklace. Her hands rested on the hard plastron of Mikey who was looking down at her with a wild pleased as punch grin.

“Hey angel cakes.” He cooed wrapping his arms around her waist before she could move away from him and started to sway with the music forcing her to continue with the song.

She felt his large three fingered hand spread open on the small of her back pressing her firmly into his chest. She knew she shouldn’t, but she looked up into his baby blues anyways and felt herself melt into him pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck. There was no point in fighting it, her body moved on its own hooking her fingers around the top of his plastron as he moved them to the beat. It just felt right, like she was home.

Michelangelo could feel Aurora tremble against him once she realized she had been caught. Her fingers lightly grazed over his plastron feeling the groves of his scutes. Slowly she let out a shaky breath finally pressing into him grasping at the top of his plastron. Leaning down he nuzzled his nose into the top of her head taking a long pull of her scent. God, he had missed her. Aurora allowed him to move her around the bonfire keeping with the soft melody. He had no notion of letting her go but he could feel their eyes boring into his shell. After a few minutes he looked up to see his three brothers looking at him longingly at the form in his arms. Letting out a long sigh he reached under her chin with a single digit pulling her purple gaze back to his. Leaning down he placed a quick kiss to her trembling lips lingering longer then he had planned and spun her out of his arms into Raph’s open awaiting embrace.

Everything spun as she was hurtled across the dirt ground once again, arms quickly encasing her.She didn’t even need to look up to know it was Raph she was pressed against. Raphael had a certain smell, thick and earthy no one could reproduce. A low rumble in his chest soothed her trembling hands as his fingers enclosed around the back of her neck and just above her butt. He didn’t’ speak just kept moving with the momentum of the song, keeping up with the rest of the people dancing around them.

“I didn’t know you guys could dance?” she asked quietly refusing to look up at the hothead.

His chuckle was deep, vibrating his plastron against her palms, “We’re ninja, we need for our movements to be smooth and fluid. Master Splinter thought it would be a good idea to learn how to dance to help with the lesson. Let’s just say it was a bit awkward slow dancing with your brothers.”

It was her turn to laugh, but she quelled it quickly feeling his arms tighten around her possessively and then he began to tremble a bit himself. The big bad turtle was shaking; she never thought she’d see the day. Finally, she gatheredher courage and looked up finding him staring down at her and to her surprise there were tears in his eyes. Tears from Raphael.  

“Oh Red.” Aurora gave him a tentative smile lifting her hand to his cheek. The hand wound up in her hair came up to the back of her hand pulling it from his face, so he could place a kiss to her palm.

“We miss you.”

Before she could react, Raph spun her once again into Donnie’s impatient long arms. With a quickness the genius pulled her to him pressing a warm kiss to the top of her head. She could hear him smell her hair and let out a heavy sigh holding her just little tighter.

“Just like I remembered.” He whispered almost to himself. His hands smoothed over her back his warm palms gaining as much friction as possible. Strangely it was almost sensual the way Donnie’s hands worked over her as if to memorize the contours of her back.

She was becoming very aware of the heat rising in her body. Their smells, their hands, their bodies, even their voices sank into her soul bringing up the emotions she was trying to suppress all day. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks, she had been in Mikey, Raph and Donnie’s arm. There was only one left, one turtle that was waiting patiently for his turn to hold her. Like a flash of light, the scene from earlier today with Asuna and Leo kissing made her emotions do a 180, anger bubbled over the heat rushing through the sadness. Like hell he was going to touch her, if he wanted that damned bunny he could have her, but he couldn’t have her anymore. She wouldn’t let her body melt into him, he didn’t want her anymore. Donnie’s arm loosened around her ready to spin her to Leo but her fingers found the edges of his plastron preventing him from launching her from his grasp.

“No.” she said matter-of-factly looking up into his brown eyes.

Before he could question her, a ruckus began to spread in the city.  Guards and people moved anxiously around stopping the celebration in its tracks. A mummer rose in the crowd, but they couldn’t make it out.

Aurora turned from Donnie to see Leo a few feet from them in position for her but his head was now turned paying attention to the disturbance. Aurora reached out grabbing a guard as he whizzed by. He grunted losing his momentum and stopped to look at the woman who had grabbed him.

“What’s going on?” She asked still holding onto his uniform refusing to let him budge until he answered her question.

“Please Ms. Aurora the Daimyo is missing. He was having dinner with a friend and when one of the servants went in with the main course they found the room trashed with neither of them to be found. I have to go please release me.” Ripping his chest plate from her grasp he ran towards the palace.

Her gut suddenly felt like it had rocks inside of it pitting a heavy weight at her center. The Daimyo was missing? Turning back to Donnie she could see the worry in his eyes as they moved from brother to brother.

“What is it Donnie?”

“Master Splinter was with the Daimyo having dinner.”

All at once the mood shifted and they moved together rushing towards the palace with Usagi and Gen in tow. Weaving around guards they made it to the dining room finding it in disarray. The Daimyo’s large head chair was in pieces his mask lay broken in the ruble. The chair right next to it wasn’t in any better shape, in fact there was blood splattered over several parts of the broken wood.

A few seconds after they arrived Ue-Sama came clamoring into the room his mask sat on top his head his eyes scanning the carnage. Then something strange hit her, in his left hand Ue-Sama had the war staff clutched tightly. Why would he have that in his possession, she thought, only the Daimyo was able to use the staff?

“My father! What happened?!” he began screaming hysterically distracting her from her train of thought.

Something was off about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Four large bodies beside her showing their own panic brought her back to the present. Aurora moved past Leo and Raph around the remains of Splinter’s seat to where the Daimyo would sit. His bowl of soup half spilled across the table in a certain direction grabbed her attention. Dipping her pinky finger in the contents of the bowl she brought it to her lips testing it with her tongue. She caught Ue-Sama eyeing her from the other side of the room warily. A bitter taste hidden in the vegetable soup made her spit out what was in her mouth.

“There was something in the soup, I’m not sure if it was poison or a sedative but Splinter noticed it and stopped the Daimyo from consuming it by pushing it from his hands.” She mimicked what the old rat did by brushing the bowl away spilling more of the soup over the wooden surface.“I’m guessing whoever was behind this was watching them and attacked knowing they were onto the substance in the food. Which in turn started a fight for their lives. The food is still warm so whoever has them can’t be too far.” Not waiting for a response Aurora dashed around the turtles ignoring their astonished looks and headed towards her room.

She could hear heavy foot steps behind her no doubt the turtles following her. Closing the door in their faces, she stripped of her current clothes pulling on what she wore for the tournament and reattaching all her weapons she had discarded. Ripping the door back open all four of the turtles, including Usagi and Gen were on the other side staring at her waiting impatiently for her to finish. Leo was standing in from of them his eyes searching hers.

“How did you…..?” he questioned Aurora keeping her from exiting her room.

“Part of my training was to detect foreign substances in food. Now get out of my way Leonardo, we’re wasting time.” With a hard shove to his plastron Aurora pushed Leo out of her doorway and into Raphael. She waited for no one and broke into a run down the hall.

Mikey looked to Leo who was still watching Aurora disappear down the hallway, “Do….do we follow her bro?”

After a few suspenseful moments Leo swallowed licking his dry lips and nodded before taking off after her. Rounding the corner they saw Aurora next to the door of the dining room keeping herself hidden from prying eyes. What was she doing?

Aurora peered through doorway at the hysteria still bustling in the room. Ue-Sama still hadn’t made any orders for the guards to start looking for his father. The way he walked around the room he didn’t seem too much in a hurry to find his father. She could tell the guards were getting a bit antsy wondering what the Daimyo’s son was going to do about the attack. Then Ue-Sama seemed to calm down a bit looking out the window.

Aurora could feel him come up next to her, the heat from his body permeating into her skin when his warm hand rested precariously on her hip. He was so close as he leaned over her she could feel the puffs of air from his mouth hit her neck inciting goosebumps across her skin. Leo was waiting for her to make the next move.

“Something’s not right……. I don’t like the way Ue-Sama is acting nor the fact he already possesses the war staff. I have a bad feeling about all this.”

“I do too. I have a feeling we need to do our own thing here. We need to find Master Splinter.” Leo whispered inches from her ear. She felt his three fingers lift from her hip and curl around her arm pulling her with him.

She didn’t resist the pull of his hand, following the large turtle leader past his brothers and down the hallway to the main entrance where they met up with a worried Usagi and Gen. Leo took the lead informing them of what happened and their concerns.

“We need to split up to cover more ground and we need to do it now. Usagi and Gen I want you to go to the east side of the palace and then make your way to the north. Donnie, Mikey and Aurora I want you guys to search the castle but keep a low profile. If our suspicions are true I have a feeling Ue-Sama has stashed them in the palace somewhere, most likely in the basement near the dungeon. Raph and I will take the east side of the palace and make our way up to the falls above the castle. But we have to move fast we don’t know what the end game is for them.”

Donnie reached into his belt and threw a small device to Usagi, “If you happen to find them and need assistance press this button and we’ll come running.”

Usagi turned the device over in his paws studying the thing and then tucked it safely into his pouch hanging on his belt. “Good luck my friends.”  

Each group hurried off into the directions they were told determined to save the Daimyo and Master Splinter from whatever plan that was made before it could come to fruition.

 @imthegreenfairy88​ @bluesakurablossom​ @ravn-87​ @alonia143​ 

[buckybarnesbingo]

As part of our Discord party, we took song recs!  Here are some excellent, Bucky-flavored tunes!

My Body Is a Cage - Arcade Fire  (@blurockets)

Control - Halsey  (@writing-mermaid)

Summer Rain - Belinda Carlisle  (@fightingforcreativity)

This song just screams Bucky's story before the whole hydra thing to me. he was happy, struggling with life but happy with his friend/love had plenty fun and survived. Then he is send out and he's still saying he'll be back but he doesn’t want to go. and he never came back in the end. Because the person coming back after is not Bucky from before anymore.

Behind Blue Eyes - The Who  (@polizwrites)

Take Me Home - Ryan Dolan  (LiquidLightz)

We Three (My Echo My Shadow And Me) - The Inkspots  (@blurockets)

An Oldie that you could go into thoughts of identity and how there are sort of three facets to Bucky. The Echo prewar and maybe during war, my shadow ws and Me and it's also just pretty.

In Chains - Shaman's Harvest  (@menatiera​)

Whole Again - Granian  (@27dragons)

This song is about recovering from trauma (and the pressure that well-meaning friends can put on you to recover faster without really helping, or maybe that's just my interpretation).

More under the cut!

In Case You Don't Live Forever - Ben Platt  (@aoifelaufeyson​)

The Becoming - Nine Inch Nails  (@blurockets)

It's part of the Downward Spiral and that whole Nine Inch Nails is a concept album following a guy that falls into a spiral of drugs and things that culminate into a breakdown and well death

Stand By You - Rachel Platten  (@writing-mermaid)

Losing Your Memory - Ryan Star  (@rebelmeg)

The whole song has strong post-Cap2 vibes.  But there’s one particular part that talks about Montauk in the winter, that makes me think of freshly un-Hydra’d Bucky visiting one of the beaches in NY that he remembers being at with Steve when they were kids, struggling to catch more wisps of memory while he stands there on the shore.

New York - Snow Patrol  (LiquidLightz)

Stucky feels... Bucky thinking of Steve

Older - Ben Platt  (@aoifelaufeyson​)

We'll Meet Again - Vera Lynn (@rebelmeg)

Another one with Bucky remembering, haunted by a song he knows he’s heard before, and all kinds of faces and voices in his mind that he can’t quite place.

I Am Machine - Three Days Grace  (@pherryt)

Kill Our Way To Heaven - Michl  (@tisfan)

Nightmare - Set It Off  (@menatiera​)

This another Bucky & Winter, just the angsty version where Bucky is terrified of his "monster" self and would very much like to run away from it but can't

Demons - Imagine Dragons  (LiquidLightz)

Through The Long Night - Billy Joel  (@polizwrites)

This has major Stucky feels for me

Lost n Paradise - Evanescence  (@lbibliophile-mcu​)

I Know Places - Taylor Swift  (@writing-mermaid)

Clearly it's about people trying to runaway from people that are chasing them. I started to write a story inspired by that song

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish  (@aoifelaufeyson​)

Hey You - Pink Floyd  (@blurockets)

Imagine like a weird hallucinatory sequence that ends with Bucky being thrown into cryo

Bee Gees - Stayin' Alive  (@phoenixgryphon)

well you can tell by the way I use my walk i'm a hydra man no time to talk

Breathe Me In - Jared and the Mill  (@pherryt)

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd  (@polizwrites)

Pink Floyd song that gives me Bucky/Stucky feels

Cat People - David Bowie  (@phoenixgryphon)

See these tears so blue / An ageless heart that can never mend / These tears can never dry / A judgment made can never bend / See these eyes so red / Red like jungle burning bright / Those who feel me near / Pull the blinds and change their minds

In the Mood - Glenn Miller  (@phoenixgryphon​)

The Sun Will Rise - Kelly Clarkson  (@writing-mermaid)

She's my favorite singer and I wrote a story based on that song, I think this is a pretty optimist song that shows that even if something bad happened, the next day can be brighter and the light will chase the darkness.

Talk Dirty To Me - Jason Derulo ft. 2 Chainz  (@aoifelaufeyson​)

Coming Back to You  -  Jennifer Warnes via Leonard Cohen  (@polizwrites)

My first Stucky fic (Another Mile of Silence) was based on this song

Slip - Elliot Moss  (@blurockets)

The Unforgiven - Blakwall  (@psychiccatpanda​)

Bucky Nat where they are so close to something good but because of the nature of their wonky memories it doesn't quite happen.

A Monster Like Me - Mørland & Debrah Scarlett  (@writing-mermaid)

Another song that inspired me for a story. It's about someone that made horrible things when he was younger, telling his love one to go away because he's a monster.

Coney Island - Antje Duvekot  (LiquidLightz)

preWar Bucky, Stucky feels

Dancing Queen - Abba  (@phoenixgryphon​)

Sleeping Sickness - City and Colour  (@blurockets)

Post WS Stucky Especially with that movies theme of things breaking down.

I've become / A simple souvenir of someone's kill / And like the sea / I'm constantly changing from calm to ill / Madness fills my heart and soul as if the great divide could swallow me whole / oh how I'm breaking down

Song of Bernadette - Leonard Cohen, cover by Jennifer Warnes  (@polizwrites) 

a WinterIron song for me — tho I ended up using a line from it for a   Tony/Bruce fic.

Sugar, Sugar - The Archies  (@phoenixgryphon​)

Believer - Imagine Dragons  (LiquidLightz)

recovering WS Bucky

Dark Side - Kelly Clarkson  (@writing-mermaid)

When We Were Young - Adele  (LiquidLightz)

Bucky recovering , Stucky feels

Next To Me - Imagine Dragons  (@writing-mermaid)

Nightmare - Set It Off  (@menatiera​)

This another Bucky & Winter, just the angsty version where Bucky is terrified of his "monster" self and would very much like to run away from it but can't

The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy  (LiquidLightz)

angry anti-Hydra WS Bucky

Animal - The Cab  (LiquidLightz)

sexy WS

Dyin' Ain't So Bad - Bonnie and Clyde (Original Broadway Cast Recording)  (@book-dragon-13)

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy - The Andrews Sisters  (@rebelmeg)

This one just screams Bucky!  Especially the part about the Cap going out and grabbing him a band!

Behind Blue Eyes - L'Orchestra Cinematique  (@menatiera)

Firework - Katy Perry  (@phoenixgryphon)

Ghost Story - Charming Disaster  (@blurockets)

stucky imagine an iw war au where after the snap everyone snapped is a dimension off only the slightest bit so it feels like people in a shares space are haunting each other

Lone Digger - Caravan Palace  (@ibelieveinturtles)

Shadow on the Wall - Mike Oldfield  (@fightingforcreativity​)

for over 70 years Bucky has been nothing but a weapon, a toy, a shadow of himself. something like that leaves traces and that sometimes you don't feel like much of anything anymore. So when he starts to remember, starts to have flashes of what he did and he has this one person standing up for him, tearing the world apart for him, he tethers himself to them like their shadow on the wall. Building his own prison, the prison which follows the person helping him whoever that is

A Bad Dream - Keane  (@menatiera​)

Secret - Heart  (@fightingforcreativity​)

this is a winteriron or pre war stucky song for me. Because Bucky no matter which pairing I look at in that situation feels like they can't be out. stucky: because of the homophobia back then 

WinterIron: because they're supposed to be enemies sort of and Tony and Steve are standing at two different sides of the line, the line to which end Bucky had sworn to follow steve

Deliverance - The Mission U.K.  (@ibelieveinturtles​)

Most of what I have for Bucky is specific to fics I'm writing but I think this is a good one too

Red - Nightcore male version, original from Beth Crowley  (@menatiera​)

this is my post-WS angry Bucky to-go song

All Along The Watchtower, Bear McCreary (Battlestar Galactica version)  (@ibelieveinturtles​)

this one is from a dragon!Bucky fic I'm determined to finish one day...

Bring Me To Life - Evanescence  (@psychiccatpanda​ and @lbibliophile-mcu​)

Holding Out For A Hero - Bonnie Tyler  (@ibelieveinturtles​)

Hollow - Icon For Hire  (@fightingforcreativity​)

This is kinda self-explanatory considering that the song is about mental health

Not alone - RED  (@menatiera​)

this is kind of the song I often base my Bucky & Winter relationship to each other, how they worked through hell to keep each other alive and how they relied on each other. Mostly this is Bucky reassuring Winter and keeping him, well, human, by being there for him in his head.

Whisper - Evanescence  @lbibliophile-mcu

Memories - Within Temptation  (@fightingforcreativity​)

A song about memories, keeping ghosts alive and yet not really

On Every Street - Dire Straits  (@dreaminglypeach​)

More Steve looking for Bucky post WS, but still. 

 three cord symphony crashes into space / the moon is hanging upside down / don’t know why it is I’m still on the case / it’s a ravenous town / you still refuse to be traced / seems to me such a waste / and every victory has a taste that’s bittersweet / and it’s your face I’m looking for on every street

Chlorine - Twenty One Pilots  (@aoifelaufeyson​)

It’s My Life - Bon Jovi  (LiquidLightz)

[onlymollygibson]

Trying to Appease Every Single Fan  Backfired Spectacularly: An Analysis of The Rise of Skywalker

Up until The Rise of Skywalker, every Star Wars movie made has added new levels of depth, complexity and fun to the Star Wars canon and enhanced the viewing of previous movies.  The Rise of Skywalker did the opposite, by disrespecting or invalidating key themes and plot elements from previous movies.  (Spoilers below the cut)

Bringing Palpatine Back:

Not only is this a complete invalidation of Vader’s sacrifice in RotJ, but it completely undoes the interesting set-up at the end of TLJ:

What does Kylo Ren (a Darth Vader analog) do after killing his master and not turning to the light?

Can he hold onto power or does someone like Hux usurp him?

Both the Resistance and the First Order have been weakened considerably by the end of TLJ.  How does this play out in the complicated field of intergalactic politics?

These questions will never be answered because Abrams apparently didn’t know what to do without a Big Bad.

Since a redemption arc for Kylo Ren was obviously in the plans, it makes absolutely no sense to have him kill his evil master in TLJ and then go back and have to face his *real* evil master in TRoS.  

If you want to make a satisfying redemption arc in just three movies, you can’t afford to re-tread the same ground twice.  The next step after killing Snoke should have been Kylo Ren ruling as Supreme Leader, without Snoke’s voice in his head, and still feeling empty.  Think Zuko in Season 3 of AtLA, when he goes back to the Fire Nation a hero.  He had everything he thought he wanted, but he realized his victory was hollow and he was on the wrong side all along.  Now that’s a satisfying redemption arc. 

Rey Palpatine

Not only did Rian Johnson have Kylo Ren explicitly state Rey has no place in this story, but she had a freaking force vision telling her basically the same thing. The force vision in TLJ (and arguably a key theme of the movie as well) is rendered meaningless by the Rey Palpatine reveal in TRoS.

Also, we’ve done the whole ‘protagonist finds out they’re descended from the villain’ before, with the whole Luke - Vader reveal.  

You mean to tell me the grandson of Darth Vader died to save the granddaughter of Palpatine?  Seriously?

Kylo Ren dies

The following people died in an attempt to return Ben Solo to the light.

Han Solo

Luke Skywalker

Leia Organa

They succeeded, but only for ten minutes, because the Last Skywalker rose (or climbed out of a hole or whatever - seriously THAT was the title of the movie) and then died two minutes later.

Not to mention they’re telling the same story twice.  Again!  And just like with the Rey Palpatine nonsense, they told it better the first time. Darth Vader - manipulated from childhood by a creepy evil dude.  Dies.  His grandson - manipulated from childhood by a creepy evil dude.  Dies.  Recycling old plots is not good storytelling.

Furthermore, the story of Darth Vader becomes much more tragic if his death to save the next generation didn’t really save them, since his grandson became obsessed with his legacy, repeated his mistakes and ended the same way Vader did -with death ten minutes after he turned back to the light.  Only KR didn’t even have another generation to save. 

Lando Calrissian rallies the troops

Remember how emotional it was when no one was around to help Leia in TLJ?  It turns out all she needed last time was Lando Calrissian and a space boom box or whatever he did to get that many people to show up in no time at all.  I mean, I know it was because he went to the Core Worlds, but thematically, you’ve got Lando Calrissian succeeding where Princess Leia failed and it doesn’t sit right with me.

Force Healing

Remember Anakin Skywalker, who turned to the Dark Side to save Padme and stayed on the Dark Side for like thirty years afterwards?  Well he’s in Force heaven watching the scene where Rey heals Kylo Ren with absolute disgust.  “Seriously?  It was that easy?  That would have been nice to know before I threw Mace Windu off a building.”

A particularly egregious way in which TRoS disrespected previous movies was the method in which this movie raised the stakes. 

Remember how absolutely terrified the Rebels were of the Death Star in Rogue One.  Remember that achingly beautiful bittersweet ending?  Well now forty-ish years later, they’re still fighting that same fight, to the point that it’s become a joke.  The bad guys make a planet killer.  The good guys blow it up.  How have we had five out of eleven movies with this same plot?  Every time you tell the same story AGAIN, it cheapens the other times the story has been told. It’s like inflation.

Seriously?  The final battle of the nine-movie saga involves fighting like five hundred Star Destroyers that came out of nowhere with giant Death Star canons strapped on the bottom?

I mean yes, the idea is horrifying, but imagine the directors of Nightmare on Elm Street saying, “Freddie Krueger was terrifying and people loved the movie.  For the sequel, let's have a hundred Freddie Kruegers running around.”  It works with snakes and spiders, but not super creepy people or powerful weapons. 

This is especially true because the Sith Fleet was basically pulled out of thin air, which makes the whole thing feel like Diabolus ex Machina.

It’s made doubly ridiculous because they’re not only absurdly powerful, they’re also easy to destroy.  I mean, seriously, Tie Fighters are harder to blow up than those things.  A single strafing run from a Y-wing and the whole dang Star Destroyer is toast.  This means you don’t really need any battle tactics beyond ‘shoot the giant gun,’ which makes for a really boring action sequence.  Star Wars is famous for its dogfights in space.  I mean, yeah, the tactics are not actually plausible because zero gravity changes warfare in ways they don’t address, but it’s fine because of the Rule of Cool.  

As for the characters and relationships, it’s kind of a trainwreck and nobody is really happy.

Tons of fans are unhappy because Kylo Ren and Rey kissed

Many were opposed to the idea of a villain turning good because he was in love with the hero and that’s exactly what happened in this movie

Others were unhappy because they saw KR as an unredeemable monster and yet he had a (small, not very well executed) redemption arc.  

He never suffered for his past actions or even really talked about them, yet he and the protagonist are in love, so it’s fine.

The fans who wanted a Kylo Ren/Rey relationship were unhappy because of how the relationship played out

The redemption arc wasn’t all that great.  

The whole Rey Palpatine thing means that KR lied to Rey when he asked her to join him in TLJ.  That line was cringey enough when it was true, and now that it's a lie, it’s twice as bad.

They’re a diad in the Force and now one of them is dead?  How is that a happy ending?

A major theme of the sequels was Rey finding belonging and someone who understand her.  KR was sold as a dual protagonist, someone who understands her.  They were on the same side for ten minutes and then he died and Rey doesn’t cry, instead she goes sand sledding and takes the Skywalker name.  Seriously, how is this a ‘satisfying’ ending?

And a few minor things

Why does Rose only get like four lines?  

General Hux had like two minutes of screen time.  For a fan-favorite villain, his ending was disappointing.  He really owned his two minutes, though.  But think, without the Palpatine nonsense, there could have been more time to examine the discord in the ranks of the First Order higher-ups, with some focus on the lack of respect the original Imperials have for the new generation of First Order commanders.  When you raise the stakes with a larger-than-life villain (especially one who was supposed to have died), you run the risk of losing the far more interesting stories revolving around villains who are far more human, both in their powers and in their emotions and desires. 

Did anyone have character growth in this movie?  Because to me it seemed like they were so busy with shots of CGI copy-pasted Star Destroyers in a row, that they didn’t leave time for personal growth or emotional payoff.

Early reviews said The Rise of Skywalker checked all the boxes for a Star Wars movie, but forgot about the heart.  Now that I finally dragged myself to the theater to see for myself, I can’t help but agree. 

[lgcdanbi]

every day

                          in your heart,                           in your bones, no matter how silly you know it is, you feel that                           everything has been leading to this, all the secret arrows were                           pointing here, the universe and time itself crafted this long                           ago, and you are now realizing it, you are just now arriving                           at the place you were always meant to be.                                                                                                              d. levithan

she’s forgotten what it’s like to feel.

numb, succinctly put, she is as she wanders, from audition to lesson to opportunity to—every glance into the mirror, with that dreaded reflection staring back, she struggles. to recognize, to remember, to feel. a hollow shell of herself, she can’t bear to put the name to the face: geum danbi, she’s aware, but hesitant to place.

it’s only been a couple of days—seven, as a matter of fact—since the airing of the future dreams finale: a moment she’s been preparing for several months, in excitement and anticipation, for it to only to be done and over with within a matter of a couple of hours (every time she thinks back, her heart breaks a little bit more and more). and with barely a second to rest, they’re shuffled into that godforsaken office of kim hyuncheol, tasked with yet another television show, another competition, another pipe dream.

and though the faces of her colleagues express enthusiasm—smile lines of optimism, and laughs laced with elation—danbi’s sat there, muted, with a tight-lipped grin: a forcibly tug of the corners of her lips, teeth unconsciously biting down on the tip of tongue. she tastes blood.

the buzz doesn’t die down, though, and with every body that passes by, a percentage of her life force is stolen away: body heat decreases, and energy drains—until she’s empty, struggling to fill the gapes and holes with everything, anything (it’s full speed ahead, and she’s running on fumes).

she doesn’t dare spare a second to process, for after the meeting, she hustles to the nearest practice room to re-memorize the lyrics that were first presented to her in february: an audition, one she shouldn’t really qualify for, to feature on seo haneul’s new album. two months ago recounts a different her, a her that’s beaming at the chance to shed light on different colors of a canvas; a blank space that’s consistently painted with the red of passion, the blue of disappointment, but never the pink of bittersweetness.

but now, as she stands there—patiently in line, fingers naturally crumpling the sheet of lyrics—all she can see is black and white, blurred and darkened and dreary.

and when her name’s called, when she opens her mouth: she can feel the vibrations, can sense every breath that’s taken—but she swears her body is not her own. and she’s floating, on an invisible cloud, to stare down at the husk of herself that plainly stands before such an infamous trio.

a scene of monochrome, she can barely make out the grimaces on each of their faces, a saddened appearance of displeasure due to unmet high expectations—and then a fade to black.

with a blink, she’s returned to her senses, a considerable amount of time having had passed as she’s reached the end of the audition. they ask, as a formality, why she thinks she deserves to be chosen (albeit, she really doesn’t think she does).

a defeated laugh as she stares straight ahead—at what, she’s not sure, but her eyes do not waver, nor does her voice. “i think.. this is a song that’s better expressed with time, with age—with experience.

there’s something about wanting something so bad, and for so long. every word, every action comes so naturally in your head, for you’ve imagined it that many times: the perfect dream, you just know that it’ll come true one day.” a pause, a falter in confidence. “—but then it doesn’t. and you wait: for days, months, years, until your doodles are drawn to perfection, as close to reality as humanly possible.

but that’s all it’ll ever be, isn’t it? a drawing. an image. and you’re so close: you can see it, you can touch it—right there, on the tip of your pencil. but the lines never close, the scribbles never jump off the page, and no matter how much you think it’s it, it’s not. because it’s not real, and sometimes—” she swallows. “you think it’ll never be real.”

the men’s eyes widen at her unexpected response, darting at each other as they share looks of equal surprise and appreciation. and before they can speak, she finishes, “i’m not a power vocalist. i can’t hit extremely high notes, nor can do outrageous vocal runs. but i think this song, at its core, is about longing, and there’s no other trainee at this company who can embody that emotion better than me.”

eventually, she’s dismissed, with the next trainee scurrying into her previous place without a moment’s hesitation, and her feet unconsciously lead her to the restroom. heavy hands slowly turning the faucet on, the rush of water drowning out the noises outside. and as the water streams out, she notices droplets on the other side of porcelain, meeting in the middle to swirl down the drain.

the tears she’s held back all this time: during the finale, when she realizes she’s forgotten by both judges and fans alike. amongst the bright lights, the confetti, the roaring applause, the internal sobs she chains down, into a cage filled with woes and wails: it’s then, when they’re not victorious, but worse, not even considered. a moment of mourning she’s long forbidden herself to indulge in, she relents and, finally, breaks down.

and then it hits her.

ah, it hurts.

[dholwrites]

The Light?

Relationship: Alphinaud x WoL Summary: He can't will himself to believe what has happened. Notes: Primal AU

“Please, please! Come back!” he could barely make it out through his tears. The sight of you blurred as tears fill his eyes. His tongue feels like lead in his mouth, forcing him to choke up on his own breathing. Alphinaud stands in front of you, tome tossed aside in hopes that you would come back to your senses at the sight of him. His brain races a mile to figure out where the plan went wrong, what was the spot that causes everything to come crashing down.

He calls out your name once more, all he received is an empty stare. As if you don’t know who he is. Only then, he finally sees you for what you have become. A primal. And here he stands in front of you, defenseless with a river of tears. Alphinaud watches in horror as you raise your hand, a ball of aether hover over your palm. It grows bigger and bigger. So much that he could also start to see the air and objects around him go flying.

Everyone has seen the damage that you’ve done before. It will only get worse as a primal. With Alphinaud is too distraught to even fight back, it's best to make a strategic retreat. They left him back at the base with the rest of the Scions to watch over him. He was deadly quiet in his room. Every entrance inside was locked and covered up. He was in shock, no number of knocks and kicks to the door can pull him out now.

When they came back, the message is clear. It was a hollow victory. The Warrior of Light is no more. Died becoming the very thing that they’ve sought to rid. It was bittersweet for the people who knew you. Soon enough people would start looking for answers. Pointing fingers the those who should have known better. The Scions should have known better. Knowing what happens when you play around with aether. They at least spared Alphinaud of the blame. A young naïve boy trying to do the best for this world. But that doesn’t matter.

A stone of guilt weighs heavily on his heart. He doesn’t want to fight you, he’ll fight anything. Anything but you. He beats himself over the head with the guilt. It eats at him alive; killing his motivation, his trust, his confidence. Even with you long gone, the effects still ripple through him. A large gaping hole in his heart that can’t be fixed. Not even the constant pestering of his own sister could pull him out of the dark gloom around him. He clutches the last of your belongings close, mourning in the darkest corner of his room. The sun has set in his world as it has the outside. But this time, his won’t be returning.

[chaniters]

ANGEL

Just something I wrote on a tablet that I thought I lost while I was on vacation. 

Convinced his journey is complete, Cyrus gives the Rat-King a gift before they part ways. 

__________________________________________

It is a bittersweet feeling, walking away now that it's all over.

The mask resonates louder than your hollow victory as you stride past it. The thing bounces and echoes through the service tunnel, demanding an explanation. You offer none.

The Rat King seems puzzled as well. Your smile doesn't calm your friends’ worry, as it reads your intentions.

With a mental command, the armor splits open, spitting you out, wearing only a thin nano suit that makes you feel naked. But you don't care. The Rat King knows you more intimately than anyone ever did.

"Take it," you say, the calm smile still on your lips. It feels good that you can do this.

Set someone free.

The Rat King takes full control of the armor which seals itself off. It leans and takes the helm, putting it on.

The King turns, staring at you. Cyrus, and Retribution. No longer the same person.

But the king deserves a fresh start. He shouldn't pay for your crimes. No one should.

"Stay still," you ask. The King nods using its new body, and you focus your mind on the nanites. They are released once more, like a river ready to unleash destruction, but you have changed. You control them in ways you never thought possible before. You can break, but you can also mend, change and even construct.

Once the armor is completely drenched in the nanites, you invite the king into your own mind.

"Come to me, my friend. Let us create something magnificent" your mind speaks without words.

The King is initially overwhelmed, but quickly adapts and understand what you wish to achieve. The nanites mold and change the armor, altering it's exterior look while maintaining its structure, power, and strength. The King keeps waiting for your lead until you push it, making it clear you want it to choose it's own form.

The roles are inverted, and you lend your mind, and your intellect to the king, letting it access a higher degree of intelligence. Its metamorphosis isn't only physical.  You can feel its understanding of the world increase exponentially, its multiple minds creating replicas of your higher thinking patterns. It will never be the same after this.

It.

"You should choose a new name," you say smiling as the transformation ends. The new king is truly a sight to behold. You begin focusing the nanites back to its container, their job done.

"Name?" the King speaks. It uses it's voice synthesizers. Not retribution's old voice, but a softer, female melodic tone.

The softer angles of the armor are revealed as the broken nanites retreat. It looks lean, tall, balanced. Majestic without being threatening. And above all its Alien, different to what you've seen before. Metallic fur. Claws and many arms for the rat minds to play with. An articulated tail strong enough to break steel. Truly the work of two non-human intellects working together. There are a few details that almost resemble a crown on the helm.

"Angel," it says simply.  And as it says it, it is decided. It is the name she will take. You nod lightly. She has been your guardian angel after all.

You can't help tear up as you lose your mind from Angel. The whole process was incredibly liberating. Helping another being gain control of her fate.

She leans over to you, worried.

"Why?" It doesn't want you to leave. She wants you to stay and guide her. She is afraid.

"No," you say clearing the tears with your wrist. "You can make your own choices now. You don't need me"

Another torrent of thought. She likes to melding her mind with you. She doesn't want to be alone.

"You don't need to." You stop her "If you want, you can find a human. Someone who needs your power and strength… and your advice. We both know I’m not taking advantage of it"

She stares at you for a moment. And then she replies with images of Psycopathor causing mayhem.

"Not again". She states.

"Well, you don’t need to find another psychopath! You could find a regular partner. Or maybe a hero instead. You just need to find the right partner."

Angel’s mind brightens intensely at the thought, a whole new horizon of possibilities now open to her.

"Just make sure to choose wisely" you grin "Not everyone is worthy of your company."

"How will I know who is worthy?" She asks simply expecting you to give her a name

"Be like the Lady of the Lake” you grin, sharing what you know the legend of Excalibur. “Study humans, until you find one with the right mettle. You’ll do just fine”

She mentally nods once again, realizing her own value to others.

"Be free my friend. You deserve it." You hope whoever Angel chooses to share her strength will be up to the task. You know you weren't.

She stares at you intensely. There's is something she wishes to say. She wants to convince you to change your mind. To go with her. To write a new chapter to your story together.

"I'm sorry," you say, keeping the same soft smile. "But that's not a path I can follow"

She understands. But it confuses her. Sorrow is a new feeling for her. She is so darn alive… and she’s worried about what will become of you once you’re no longer together.

"Thank you for everything," you say trying not to cry "Just promise me you'll live great adventures for the both of us". And you turn. Turn and walk away. Let her live her own life the way she chooses, free of the humans that made her into a tool without compassion or even a second thought.

You force yourself not to look back and keep walking ... until you feel the warm hug.

Holding you. Tight and endearing. Like the family you never had. Fuzzy thoughts about sweet things and memories of your nights together, playing heroes and villains, taking turns to wear the mask and powers of Retribution.

Emotional overload.  Eyes closed but it doesn't stop the tears. You feel lost in the embrace wishing it to never end.

But you still let go. And it hurts, but you know deep down it's the only right choice. The Angel deserves a clean slate.

The warmth ends. The arms let go. After a long while, you turn, but Angel isn't there. She did the best she could to change your mind, and you refused.

You can still feel her in the distance, walking away. It takes all your will force not to follow.

You walk alone now.

_________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[laughingpinecone]

Yuletide letter!

I am laughingpineapple on AO3 

Likes: worldbuilding, slice of life (doubly so if the event the fic focuses on is made up but canon-specific), missing moments, 5+1 and similar formats, bonding and emotional support/intimacy, physical intimacy, lingering touches, loyalty, casefic, surrealism, magical realism, established relationships, future fic, hurt/comfort or just comfort from the ample canon hurt, throwing characters into non-canon environments, banter, functional relationships between dysfunctional individuals, unexplained mysteries, bittersweet moods, journal/epistolary fic, dreams and memories and identities, outsider POV, UST, exploration of secondary bits of canon, leaning on the uniqueness of the canon setting/mood, found families, characters reuniting after a long and/or harrowing time, friends-to-lovers, road trips, maps, mutual pining, cuddling, wintry moods, the feeling of flannel and other fabrics, ridiculous concepts played straight, sensory details, places being haunted, people being haunted, the mystery of the woods, small hopes in bleak worlds, electricity, places that don’t quite add up, mismatched memories, caves and deep places, distant city lights at night

Any tense, any pov, any rating, plotty, not plotty, IF, canon divergences, non-mundane AUs (space opera! high fantasy! new weird also), deep lore, unrequested characters popping up - please do go wild with the & combos!

Blanket crossover prompt with Untitled Goose Game: set that goose loose anywhere and ruin anyone’s day. Tariq and select Twin Peaks characters who are not Albert (Margaret, Laura...) may hope to tame and befriend the goose; anyone else better get wrecked. Capitalism may also get wrecked while Kentucky Route Zero characters popcorn.gif nearby

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, canon retellings, unrequested ships (I listed all the ships I like for each fandom. Outside of those, I’d prefer if other canon characters weren’t shipped, unless they’re like, canon engaged/married)

Dark Souls 1: Solaire of Astora

I’m only familiar with the first game! It’s probably relevant to mention that I think that linking the fire is kind of a dumbass move, Gwyn is a jerk, Kaathe has his own agenda and there’s no winning move in this world, or at least no obvious one. And amidst all this nonsense, Solaire just shines, pure of heart and dumb of ass like the best of ‘em. I love his kindness in this cruelest of worlds and I love the sad edge he’s got even earlier on when he admits to being seen as weird.

I would enjoy a bittersweet ending for him but I realize both of his endings are deeply entrenched in his themes so it’s hard to make him steer clear of either of those. If you can figure out how to make him not link the Flame or survive the ordeal, I’m all ears! I like a sense of purpose being the thing that can stave off hollowing, and I like characters helping other characters finding that sense of purpose within themselves. Focus on scenery always welcome, and if you want to make up a location, that’s great too!

I’d be super happy with a story set during Solaire’s time in Lordran that simply doesn’t mention his endings, anyway. Maybe he’s the one who helps someone else while his own tragedy keeps looming on the horizon. Striking up friendships in the face of a crapsack world! Meeting people through Lordran’s temporal/dimensional fuckery, where it’s possible to cross the path of warriors who have been gone for ages… could Solaire meet either or both Catarina knights (there’s so much great art about sun bro and onion bro but where’s the fic?), or do the grumpy grump&ray of sunshine routine with Logan, or meet Artorias or even Gwyn before he linked the Flame - or himself? What if he met Kaathe?

Ships: none really? Solaire/Chosen Undead but I don’t really like to read about customizable protagonists in fic so I’d rather not get fic featuring the CU. I’m all about the & character combos here.

Ghost Trick: Cabanela, Jowd

I love Cabanela being fierce and dazzling bright and determined and loyal to the very end, dancing to his own rhythm, so sure of himself and of his ideas that he doesn’t even need to prove to anyone that he’s right. Too sure of the wrong idea, once, and everything crashed and burned. And I love Jowd being the immovable object to Cabanela’s unstoppable force, a suicidal trainwreck of guilt with the gallows humor to show for it, and also incredibly smart (both jerks figured out Sissel’s powers better than Sissel did, that’s... something) and athletic and with an unsuspected talent for stealth.

I am very interested in various characters finding about the erased timeline, but not getting their memories back, and having to live with being told about what they did but never remembering it. Touch-starved Jowd in the new timeline is a surefire hit (or maybe Cabanela if he’s the one who came back and kept the memories of the old timeline). Touchy-feely Cabanela as kind of his baseline with the people he likes.  All what-ifs welcome:what if they managed an acceptable happy ending but didn’t reset the timeline, what if Alma’s ghost stuck around… I’m also wondering about either of them ending up undead via Temsik shard - how would they take these developments (I’m assuming better than Yomiel did but the bar is admittedly low), did Cabanela do it on purpose for whatever sensible-if-you-are-Cabanela reason, what does it change in their relationship, what are the practical pros and cons of the situation here. UFO adventures with Pigeon Man! Lynne teaming up with either of them against the other! Sissel death-averting action if either/both of them die or just regular cat action! Spy stuff! Daring rescues! My forever prompt of Jowd being the one who gets a chance to prove his loyalty to Cabanela for once. Dancing.

Please no Yomiel. Nothing against the guy I’m just getting an overdose of him through RPing.

Ships: Alma/Cabanela/Jowd and all sides thereof, but when it splits the canon couple I only like it when the missing spouse is dead or otherwise unavailable, hopefully with a reset on the horizon. If you want to go for a Cabanela&Alma or Cabanela/Alma who are strongly motivated by a dead or jailed Jowd, I’m good with him not actively appearing in the fic. Alma/Jowd & Cabanela is excellent in all scenarios. I’m good with explicitly non-romantic takes on Jowd&Cabs but please keep their bond strong, and please no conflicting ship for Cabanela. Lynne/Memry!

Kentucky Route Zero: Any (Lula Chamberlain, Joseph Wheattree, Donald kentuckyroutezero, Weaver Màrquez)

(if enough of us request it, will some Murphy corollary guarantee that Act V will come out between now and reveals just to mess with the Yuletide schedule? If it does, I’ll be playing it immediately and probably add a few thoughts and prompts here for kicks, at the end of this section, after a spoiler warning. Obviously feel free to stick to canon up to Un Pueblo De Nada)

I’m all for exploration of any of the game’s themes and for including any staples from adjacent genres - wanna go full-on American Gothic? Dip into surrealism? Take a leaf from Twin Peaks with tulpa / split narratives to explore the characters’ issues? I can’t think of any specific AUs for the disaster trio + disaster soloist here, but I generally love AUs so if you want to sidestep the inconvenience of an incomplete canon that way, be my guest! Or of course there’s Xanadu at the height of its glory, an infinite what-ifs generator. Was Weaver ever part of it, what was this digital Weaver up to? A Xanadu narrative would be great! A good fit for IF, too? I’d love to hear about any new spot along the Zero or the Echo river, or an expansion of some place that’s only mentioned by Will in HATATE or only gets a few paragraphs of text. Lula getting ideas for a new installation, or an article talking about her work? Donald listening to Static between stations somehow (Donald being constantly high as a kite as per this)? Joseph who went back to the surface finds himself near an entrance to the Zero somewhere? A collection of Weaver-isms? Feel free to bring in anyone else from any part of canon.

Ships: “Flipping through the pages, Conway is able to gather that it's a story about three characters: Joseph, Donald, and Lula. It's something like a tragic love triangle, but much more complex. Some kind of tangled, painfully concave love polygon.” 😬 that one, as a full triad, regrettably since they don’t seem too inclined to get reunited and stay that way. If you can nudge them, good. But I’m very open to non-romantic resolutions as well, going past their messy feelings to find each other as friends after so many years maybe. For Weaver, I’m interested in all her & relationships (seriously. Weaver & Cate. Weaver & EmilyBen&Bob. Weaver & Slow Moe Crow.) but nothing shippy. Conway/Lysette, Junebug/Johnny(/Shannon?).

The Last Remnant: David Nassau, Pagus

I’m very interested in post-game exploration, and getting a clearer feeling of any of the cities and assorted places that populate this fascinating world. I like the whole party with their characterization based on battle quotes, red bubble dialogues, and even their unique stat (‘authority’ is a natural fit for David but ‘romance’ tells me something new about Sibal!) Character interaction. Bit of worldbuilding. What’s another festival they celebrate? Do they erect something else instead of the Valeria Heart? Any fun discoveries down in Siebenbur? Where the hell IS Veyriel, anyway, do they go look for it and if so what do they find out? End of an age. Old bonds.

I ache for David who fought so valiantly as a warrior and as a politician only to be slapped in the face with the unexpected loss Emma first and then Rush, right as they were ready to claim their victory and as he would have to start coming to terms with the idea that maybe without the Gae Bolg he wouldn’t die young. At least his Generals are still with him - out of them, all of whom I adore, I picked Pagus because Qsiti are cool. And Pagus in particular is the coolest (”I know that fine qsiti... That large, reticent mouth, the laugh lines around the eyes...“ he’s FINE it’s CANON!). So I’d like to see how David bounces off Pagus in particular, what their bond is like, what he thinks of whatever aspect of Qsiti culture.

Ships: postcanon David/Rush, possibly with an emphasis on Rush’s nature as a remnant? I am also fond of Pagus/Sibal/Maddox, there are more prompts for them in my #letters tag!

Pyre: Volfred Sandalwood, Tariq The Lone Minstrel

Oh the burning found family feelings, the revolutionary passion, the tension between topside social constraints (moreso for liberated exiles, thrust into heroic roles after the revolution) and the kind of freedom allowed by the Downside! I love all the themes, the solemnity, the heart of this game. I’ve been waiting for a character like Tariq all my life, a minstrel who’s otherworldly soft and just a lil bit eldritch. Volfred as well, he just hits my perfect ratio of “noble intentions” to “scheming to a fault”. Like, the percentages in his planner are pointless for gameplay since the ending just depends on the number of Nightwings sent topside at the end - so it’s just there for his characterization, he’s the sort of person who assigns percentages to people, nbd. ...for a good cause! That said, I would die for anyone in that Blackwagon+Dalbert+Celeste, so if you want to write in someone else as well, please do! (otoh if you maybe want to dunk on Brighton or Manley, I don’t like bashing but canon levels of love-to-hate-them would be fun)

Thoughts about finding oneself at the end of an age, as everything crumbles down to form something new. The titan stars. History nerd Volfred, “aye sir, I was there” Tariq. Conversations with Dalbert. Or with Sandra? Any postcanon very welcome with any combination of endings as long as the revolution was peaceful. Please do lean into the xeno headcanons if you enjoy them! Even for gen, I like to read what it’s like to be something other than human and these two are very much not human in different and intriguing ways. Or, Volfred’s zodiac sign is Cancer and Cancer is ruled by the Moon, so there’s that. I also love how they both hold the other in the highest esteem, especially on Tariq’s part since he’s the immortal Herald of the Scribes and Volfred is, all in all, a history teacher, but listen to him and you’d think the roles were inverted. I love my nonviolent canon but could anything happen to either of them that may require a rescue, and/or some good old-fashioned h/c? What’s something that could make Tariq of all people lose it? How’s life 100 years on?

For a funnier mood, picture Volfred trying to figure out how to flirt with Tariq with percentages, planners and all. He could just ask him but no, it’s convoluted plan or bust. Or, conversely, Tariq’s increasingly direct hints that he’s interested, but they’re still ‘increasingly direct’ for Tariq standards, so, not at all, undetectable even by Volfred who can get pretty damningly indirect himself.

Ships: Volfred/Tariq, Volfred/Oralech, some form of Oralech/Volfred/Tariq (more of a Volfred-centric V but I would like to be convinced of the Oralech/Tariq side of things), Celeste/Jodariel, Hedwyn/Fikani and Pamitha/Bertrude.

Twin Peaks: Albert Rosenfield

Case fic but they don’t find out jack shit, someone disappears, David Bowie was there, it’s complicated. Fragmented, shifted, mirrored identities. New Lodge spaces. The risks of staring into the void for too long. Gentle illusions. Transcendence. The moon. Static buzzing. Any title from the s3 ethereal whooshing compilation used as a prompt, actually. Twin Peaks is all about the mystery to me, the awe of mystery and unknowability and the human drive to look beyond and the risks of getting a peek, and about shared consciousness and trauma taking physical form and about the warmth of human connections in an uncaring world. Go wild with the ethereal whooshing!

I love Albert and he breaks my heart, a pacifist who ends his arc shooting his oldest remaining friend after life sucked all the passion and most of the idealism out of him. Is shooting Diane just to see Cooper come back, get her back and disappear with her again trauma enough to make him split? I’d be interested in reading about it, or any other take on his unwavering loyalty to Gordon which should maybe waver after Gordon’s admission that he’s lied to him for 25 years and the aforementioned unmitigated disaster of an ending. But I’m also very interested in his life apart from the disaster that is Blue Rose and his heartbreaking search for Cooper: did he keep in touch with Harry throughout the years, what did they talk about? Was he ever dragged along for a hike in the woods and did something weird happen there? We know he kept in touch with Diane, what did THEY talk about? Does he go on a journey of his own to find her after the ending? Does Tammy come along, do they see each other as friends other than mentor and protégé? What was Phil like as a co-boss back in the day? Did he get a small victory over Windom at some point (maybe even in the present day, given Kenneth Welsh’s recent wonderful interview where he’s adamant that Windom lives)? Does Laura ever visit him in some ghostly manner? He and Denise look like a great duo for a case and/or office shenanigans. We know from TFD that he’s a big jazz enthusiast, something about that? When does he cave in and just accept some aspects of Coop’s investigative method? Just set him loose on another unsuspecting character and I’ll be happy.

If Coop comes back (and I’d love for Coop to come back), I would like it if he came back on his own thanks to having sorted out his crap. After s3, I am not interested in stories about any other character saving Cooper. Albert’s got his wounds to lick dangit. And he’s got friends who can be by his side! ...I do love his dynamic with Coop so much, though. Sigh. I do miss that bastard. Anyway.

Ships: Albert/Coop/Harry and sides thereof, Tammy/Cynthia, Gordon/Phil, Diane/Constance, Lucy/Andy, Chet/Sam.

Canon-specific DNWs: any singular Dreamer being the ‘source’ of canon, BOB (let alone Judy) being forever defeated in the finale, Judy being an active malevolent presence in the characters’ lives, clear explanations for canonical ambiguities, ‘Odessaverse’ being the reality layer, the Fireman’s House by the Sea being the White Lodge, anything that 4 hours video says is the explanation of Twin Peaks

[blindestspot]

No Bastard Ever Won a War by Dying for His Country

Over the past year I've gotten a lot of asks about Jon and what I think is going on with him. During that time I've also managed to calm down about the inconsistent number of redshirts during the Wight Hunt. Yes, I remember that this was a thing that happened, along with a bunch of other dei ex machina, like Cersei's brilliant strategies for everything, Jon's repeated, increasingly dumb survivals and the whole Winterfell plot.

But calming down about them meant that I could think about Game of Thrones again in a manner that kind of naively assumes that the work is coherent . That 2+2=4, not 5, or orange, or a tiger. And this is what I think is going on with Jon and why it is so crucial to the whole work.

George R.R. Martin once said that A Song of Ice and Fire is supposed to have a bittersweet ending. Now that phrase covers a lot of ground. A bittersweet ending might be just ASOIAF's Scouring of the Shire (which at this stage is assured) and a few good guys passing into the Great Beyond (also nearly certain) – which would be a copy of Lord of the Rings.

A bittersweet ending might also be Davos, Brienne and Sam emerging alone from the rubble like the unhappy winners of a Battle Royale. A few good guys surviving would technically make the ending not a complete downer and thus "bittersweet".

However, a more nuanced look at a bittersweet ending should look beyond mere survival and destruction but at an ending that irrevocably changes the characters and how and what we think of them.

An issue that strikes readers as unrealistic about Lord of the Rings is  that a lot of its human and hobbit-y heroes move on from the events of the story into psychologically very ordinary, uncomplicated lives that they would have lead even without the events of the story. Sam, Merry, Pippin's (and to a lesser degree Faramir, Aragorn and Eowyn's) easy passing into normalcy feels vaguely hollow.

If GRRM really plans to have a realistic take on Lord of the Rings and its "bittersweet" ending (and with his complaints about Aragorn's tax policy it appears that this is a crucial element of ASOIAF), then obviously he is going to continue what he has been doing all along and create an interplay between narrative events and characterization. Take Arya, for example. In the early parts of AGoT she would have not wanted to become a Faceless Man – for obvious reasons. But Arya from a few books later, after events have matured and traumatized her, wants to become one. And that choice will again impact her characterization and that will in turn impact future events. 
It is logical that this interplay will continue right up until the end. So speculation has to take into account that these characters are dynamic and can be pushed by events into new directions. And not just "can" – but will be.

The question is not who will be alive to experience the Scoured Shire but who they will be at this point. And that change shouldn't just be cosmetic or physical, it needs to be psychological, visible, noticeable and profound. We shouldn't get an Aragorn who just walks into a kingship after a two battles, marries the cute elf girl and then doesn't have a tax plan.

And obviously, I am not talking about Gilly. I am very much talking about ASOIAF's Aragorn. I am talking about Jon.

...

Now here is a hypothetical scenario for Season 8: Jon with the help of Dany and her dragons (and, to paraphrase Roger Ebert, the usual stock characters who fight every fictional war for us, even those in space), fight the White Walkers, win, then fight Cersei, then win (the order of this is might be reversed) and then Jon's revealed to be true heir and has to rebuild Westeros.

How does any of this really change and mature Jon as a character? How does being right about everything (the White Walkers being the real threat), then leading a righteous force to victory over evil make him a realistic take on Aragorn?

It doesn't.


What Jon needs after five books and seven season of making serviceable to great, sensible, ethical, right strategic choices (with admittedly a number of great tactical errors in between) is being wrong. And not just being wrong about failing to communicate to his sworn brothers what his strategy is, not just wrong about going on that Wight Hunt, not just wrong to send Sam away, not just lightly ethically challenged for exchanging a pair of babies against one mother's will or misleading his love interest on his commitment to her political cause... but wrong in a truly profound way that the audience cannot blame on stupidity or short-sightedness.

I admit that calling it "wrong" or even "profoundly wrong" is a bit of misnomer. What I am trying to get at is the character going into a direction where the audience cannot and should not easily follow. Those actions would be too alien as might be their rationalizations. These actions should strike the audience as questionable, reprehensible, immoral, unethical, or dishonorable.

A perhaps too perfect example of such an action is Cersei firing up the Sept. It's mass murder and it's intended by her to be mass murder. If anyone in the audience found it not reprehensible and immoral, I would have some questions for these people.

But Cersei firing up the Sept was a success. Her survival was at stake - and she survived. Before her kingdom was full of powerful enemies and afterwards it wasn't. And she even snatched the Iron Throne afterwards despite having no royal Targaryen or Baratheon ancestry.

In realpolitik terms, Cersei made the "right" choice. All other choices would have lead to her death. The first rule of anything is that you cannot do anything if you're dead.

And frankly, that's a lesson Jon desperately needs to learn. His twice-tried strategy of rushing alone against an army of his enemies is idiotic. It might be honorable for a war leader to be the first person on the battlefield but it's not a winning war strategy.

It's not a nice thing to say, but it's necessary for a war time general or commander to be willing to have other people die for him and his goal. And not just for him but in front of him, literally shielding him. An army commander who isn't willing to ensure his own survival, is gambling with such terrible odds that he has already lost the war.

Cersei's strategy of killing her enemies instead of allowing herself to be killed is profoundly wrong, immoral and yet Jon needs understand that when mankind's survival are at stake an immoral action like that might be a necessary choice.

His attempt to drown in an ice lake alone is a sign that at this point he hasn't understood the necessity of being alive to lead a war at all. As George S. Patton put it: "no poor bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb son-of-a-bitching bastard die for his country."

Out of all our main protagonists, Jon has never been willing to play as dirty as it should be necessary for an apocalyptic fight such as his. Unlike Sansa's willingness to go along with Littlefinger's nefarious plans for her cousin in the Vale, Arya's willingness to kill potentially innocent people for the Faceless Men, Tyrion raping a prostitute and killing Shae, the torture of innocents during Dany’s Slavers’s Bay arc, Bran warging Hodor... Jon has nothing in his arc that is as dark, dishonorable or questionable as these things. Jon appears to be a character class apart, like the hero of a more classic fantasy epic.

Is this because Jon's so special that his arc is a whole different genre or is this because he hasn't leveled up in realpolitik yet?

Or is there perhaps even a third option to deal with his relative over-the-top good guy characterization?

***

You know, when it comes to stories about morality like Game of Thrones a crucial factor for their success is not just the quality of the good guys but also the quality of the villains.

And what makes a compelling villain?

IMO, they hit more than one of these characteristics:

1. They are well-rounded, fully realized characters, drawn with the same care as the heroes.

2. They are able to win against the good guys. They are not a cardboard that will be blown over once the heroes wave a magic stick or sword around.

3. Their evil deeds get an emotional reaction out of the audience. (Most audiences tend to have a vague discomfort with CGI mass carnage while reacting to a well-executed scene of high school bullying with actual empathy or even horror.)

4. Their motivations are understandable, perhaps even sympathetic. At best they are a well-intentioned extremist, utilitarianism gone wrong, rather than setting stuff on fire because their mom was mean to them once.

Now looking at this list, it becomes obvious that GOT has a problem with its current crop of villains. Any of the three that are left (Cersei, the Night King, Euron) could be the Final Boss – to use a video game term. But none of them are very compelling villains. Two of them are inhuman monsters. To call their characterization shallow would be an insult to puddles.

And Cersei, the only one with a decent characterization (and some past Mean Girls bullying sins of her own) suffers from being incredibly stupid in the books, having a prophecy running against her and stealing Aegon from Essos' story in the show. In other words, Cersei's chances of success and survival and actually making it this far in the books are as good as that of a snowflake on a hot summer's day. One suspects that she is a show-only final-ish villain, so if one looks for GRRM’s final-ish villains, they would not find Cersei.

Talking about chances of success – the Night King isn’t winning this either. Because then ASOIAF would reveal itself to be a nihilistic mess in which all the human storylines were nothing but shaggydog stories. So the Night King is  bound to melt in the summer sun along with Cersei. There is little question about it. And is Euron "was he even mentioned in the first book?" Greyjoy  really going to win the Iron Throne in the end? Is anyone taking this possibility seriously?

And what are their motivations? Ambition, being evil and being anti-human. None of them are particularly sympathetic.

In one word, GOT's current crop of villains is not particularly exciting – especially if you compare them with some of the villains that came before them. And if one of these three is the Final Boss, he or she is gonna be lame.

But a lame Final Boss is actually a great tradition in the genre. In Lord of the Rings Sauron appears to be literally two-dimensional and about as interesting as a character. (Gollum gets to be the well-written villain and he is doing very little damage to the world at large.) Voldemort in Harry Potter is completely outshone as the most despised, scary villain of the series by the one-book-wonder Dolores Umbridge who excels at committing low-key evil deeds that make every reader/viewer wince in sympathy. The Emperor in the original Star Wars trilogy is... there and then dead and has fewer fans than a one-line bounty hunter. And the same fans that endlessly shout "Han shot first", don't even appear to care that he got a complete face replacement in the Special Editions. And if there is one consistent complaint about the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it's that its villains tend to be boring and forgettable. Yet they're lame and forgettable to the tune of billions of box office dollars.

So a lame Final Boss for the heroes to fight... that is indeed a thing. And that might be just the thing GOT/ASOIAF is doing. This is what we have to seriously consider. We are likely to get a MCU villain... you know on the level of Ronan the Destroyer or Malekith, the Dark Elf. And you probably need to google in which movies those two turned up.

That would be a terrible let down.

Or maybe it's not actually that terrible of a thing? Because if our final boss and villain is not Cersei, the Night King, or Euron, it's a good guy gone bad. Someone who is currently fighting on the side of the living before becoming someone who needs to be fought.

It's possible that this is in the cards. After "Ozymandias", the penultimate episode of Breaking Bad, aired, GRRM wrote on his blog that "Walter White is a bigger monster than anyone in Westeros, I need to do something about that."  

The thing is that White appeared to start out as a sympathetic if flawed hero you were rooting for even as he was making meth. What made White monstrous is not doing depraved psycho shit beyond comprehension (like nailing a living, pregnant woman to a ship like Euron Greyjoy) but that he appears to evolve into this monster before the audience's eyes.

Breaking Bad tricks the audience into liking a character for much longer than he ever deserved and that becomes crystal clear in that penultimate episode. If GRRM wants a monster like White he can't use his old, repetitive trick of making a one-dimensional psychopath do depraved stuff. He has to logically progress a character we root for into a monster.

(Of course, GRRM might also not be able to pull it off, however much he wants to. It could be that he has not prepared the ground to make a main character go Walter White and thus it will always fall short of Breaking Bad's accomplishment. Sure, Greyworm or Dolorous Edd could become evil and monstrous but even GRRM should know that's not quite the same as making your main protagonist evil.

I might also be wrong on GRRM understanding what makes Walter White feel so monstrous. The first big sign that White took the road down to hell is not an act of murder or sadism but simply not helping someone who is choking to death. His monstrosity is based in a three-dimensional characterization, not in particularly outrageous acts of evil. He is monstrous because he used to be likable. If GRRM doesn't see that, he might actually think that one-dimensional psychopath Euron nailing his pregnant girlfriend to a ship is nailing the same kind of monstrosity.

He also could be talking about a plot point we now know about but that he has not published yet – like Stannis burning Shireen. So one should be careful looking for ASOIAF's Walter White.)

Interestingly enough, the trick Breaking Bad is pulling is quite old. White isn't making meth by chance, it was the worst thing his creator could think of besides him becoming an arms dealer. The twist of Breaking Bad's "Ozymandias" is actually not that White becomes bad but that he has always been bad. You'll find a similar character in Humbert Humbert in Nabokov's Lolita where his monstrosity is barely a plot twist and even Milton's Paradise Lost where it's none at all. (The trope of the protagonist being a piece of shit throughout the whole story usually goes down as "villain protagonist" and the list of stories containing one is pretty expansive.) But the plot twist of a surprise villain protagonist is such an old one that Aesop already codified it in his fable "The Farmer and the Viper" around 600 B.C. (Farmer helps harmless looking viper, then viper bites him because it's a viper. And has been a viper all along. Duh.)

Now if Dany, for example, turned into a villain then she would fall squarely into villain protagonist territory. But the fun thing is that doesn't mean that she is already one. The viper is not a villain until Aesop has it biting the farmer. If Dany decides to slaughter her future subjects by the thousands just so she can have the Iron Throne (and this is portrayed as despicable) then this will be in line with the Dany from the first season/AGoT who wanted the Dothraki to wage their type of warfare (pillaging, raping, enslaving, killing) onto thousands of her future subjects, so she could have the Iron Throne. But that doesn't mean that Dany will cross this particular moral event horizon.

Whether Dany will turn out to be a villain protagonist is not a question of foreshadowing. It's a question whether the authorial intent will will it into existence. The viper is a poisonous snake but if the author hasn't it biting the farmer, that poison doesn't matter at all.

Now Dany is a well-rounded character (same as Cersei) and might be difficult to defeat but her most likely, hypothetical, evil deed (mass carnage via dragon) is not particularly compelling and neither is ambition as her motivation. Villainous Dany is about as compelling as Cersei. Keeping Cersei for so long when there is Villainous Dany in the wings strikes me as a weak narrative choice: “Meet your new villain, same as the old villain...” The difference would be the element of surprise but that's a paltry surprise, especially since Villainous Dany was supposed to be The Big Plot Twist.

Honestly, Dany as the mass-carnage causing, ambitious type of villain is a low-hanging fruit. Call me edgy, but it's just nowhere near "Ozymandias". It's Boromir getting seduced by the Ring.

And there are not a lot of precedents for that storyline in ASOIAF. You know the story of a good guy gone beyond redemption evil. There is Theon, whose ambition, jealousy and insecurity drove him into sacking Winterfell and killing two children – but even he turned out to be not to be beyond redemption. There is Catelyn, but she goes crazy and becomes a zombie, so it's hard to compare.

But there is, of course, the most compelling, interesting and meaningful character arc of a good guy gone bad: Stannis Baratheon. But he isn’t a good precedent for a mass-carnage causing, ambitious type of villain.

***

You see, Stannis starts out as not exactly the most sympathetic character: he burns people and places of worship, he is a religious nut, he has his brother killed. But after getting defeating at the Battle of Blackwater, his arc does a 180. He gets the call from the North to save the realm, and out of all of the five Kings involved in the war of the same name, he is the only one he realizes that in order to "win the realm, you have to save the realm."

That isn't a coincidence. Stannis is also the only king who fights for a higher purpose. Joffrey, Balon, Robb, and Renly just fight for power (be it the power over all of Westeros or the power that lies in independence). Stannis is fighting not just for power but also for his religion, for his one true god; he is fighting a crusade. That out of all the kings, the king who believes that his religion will save Westeros ends up wanting to save it from a supernatural threat is not a coincidence. One thing clearly causes the other.

And once he makes this choice, Stannis, the Mannis (as he was lovingly called by his fans once upon a time) always fights the bad guys, he fights for the living. Of course, he doesn't stop being a religious nut, he doesn't stop burning people, he is inflexible in his beliefs, he still thinks he is the chosen one, he is Azor Ahai, he is the One True King, he belongs on the Iron Throne. But he is also the man who executes soldiers of his army who rape. He has good sides. But what weighs so heavily in his favor is that out of all the people in power in Westeros, he is fighting the bad guys.

And that matters – until it doesn't when Stannis strikes out to fight the Boltons. The Boltons are special because they are despicable without exceptions. Even the Freys have Robb's squire in their midst to have that one decent family member/bannerman that all of Westeros' notable houses appear to have. All but the Boltons anyway. There is not a good or decent living Bolton. They are the literal worst Westeros has to offer.

And yet, Stannis manages to cross a moral event horizon that makes everyone forget that he is doing it to fight the Worst. And that moral event horizon is not the sacking of a city, the killing of hundred of thousands. He is not extinguishing a house or a people. He manages it, doing something every single GOT character could do right now (save for little Sam.) He kills a single person.

And he doesn't come back from that. Like a proper Ozymandias, his hubris, his pretension to predestined, prophecied greatness is followed by his inevitable decline. Killing Shireen has Stannis losing his real world fans and his in-story followers, his wife, his fight, his priestess, his army, his purpose and consequently his life. He proves very quickly that not all ends justify all means. He is the living embodiment of the Friedrich Nietzsche quotation that "those who fight monsters should take care that in the process they do not become monsters themselves."  

Stannis' final turn into villainy is actually paralleled by something another character does in ASOIAF. Except he is not a character we meet; he is a story-within-a-story; a legend, a prophecy or both. He is who Stannis thought he was: he is Azor Ahai.

And Azor Ahai absolutely does what Stannis did to turn into a villain, a monster: he murders... sacrifices an innocent to forge Lightbringer to end the Long Night. The way the story gets told makes that murder necessary, but Azor Ahai as the hero and winner of the Long Night gets to tell that story, gets to tell history his way. It's a legend and of course Azor Ahai is its hero. But remember the first person who claimed that "only death can pay for life" was a liar who wanted to make sure that "The Stallion Who Mounts the World" died in the womb. (The second was Melisandre who tends to be wrong on a lot of things and whose track record on human sacrifice is abysmal.)

So there is absolutely a chance that Nissa Nissa's death was as necessary as Shireen's. We won't get the opportunity to fact-check the legend, the ancient history. But if it's a prophecy we might see its reality.

Of course, if GOT really goes the way of making a good guy go bad, then they can do this the middling way, the mediocre way. Theon's Sack of Winterfell Redux or Catelyn's descent into madness and murder. Or by making Dany a villain protagonist who is basically just another Cersei with dragons. And despite not quite measuring up to Stannis' dark turn – ambition, grief, fear, insecurity, jealousy, vanity, or disappointment leading to mass carnage delivered onto a hundred-thousand computer-generated extras is still more interesting than the Night King Sauron with his ice dragon.

But the reality is that we don't care about the 100,000 inhabitants of King's Landing. We will cry over a single Hot Pie before ever giving a fuck about a massive number of fictional people without any characteristics. Mass carnage is easy to oppose morally because it's something we oppose in real life but emotionally there is no difference between 10 fictional people or a billion fictional people – if they are simply there to be nameless, featureless cannon fodder. The ability to cause mass carnage doesn't make you the most emotionally effective villain by default. Quite the opposite.

If Bran were to warg a dragon and set King's Landing on fire, we would get that this whole Three-Eyed Raven thing didn't work out well for his ethics and be, like, "okay". If Bran set fire to Arya, he would immediately become the most hated character ever on GOT. (And that isn't an exaggeration for effect). And any good intentions regarding defeating evil would matter as much as the fight against the Boltons did once Shireen started screaming.

I would like to add that Stannis died pretty much immediately after killing Shireen, blown over like a cardboard once Brienne showed up. But who would defeat or want to defeat a Stannis, an Azor Ahai who succeeded at ending the Long Night?

The ultimate story subversion when it comes to the classic "good vs. evil" plot is that the bad guy wins.

And wouldn't that be something if it was surprise villain protagonist? We get someone winning that we would have been okay with winning until they turned into GOT's least liked character? Wouldn't that be bittersweet? Getting who you were okay with, perhaps even wanted on the Iron Throne, who might even know which is the right tax plan and what to do with baby orcs...  except they suck now?

Now who could that true Azor Ahai possibly be?

Is there someone who has been fighting monsters longer than anyone else has? Who has been so corrupted by that fight that he has tried and sacrificed already everything he could and had to defeat them? A man on quasi-religious crusade? A man who has the sort of righteous hubris and single-minded focus on the White Walkers that makes him often deaf to good advice? Who who has already laid down his life for a chance... and even a "no-chance-at-all-now-let-me-drown-in-an-ice-lake" at defeating the Night King? Is this possibly the same guy who we think is going to be crucial to the defeat of the White Walkers?  The one who has the perfect bloodline to claim the Iron Throne in the end? The one who is shown to Melisandre when she looks for her prophecied chosen one in the fire? The one who appears to be the straight hero of the story, the Luke Skywalker, the only major character where pulling a Stannis would actually shock us?  The one who has never been "profoundly wrong"?

I am not saying, we are getting "Aegon, the Worst of His Name". I am saying that if I wanted to create a villain who subverts all expectations while fulfilling them, a villain who is truly compelling and whose turn emotionally wrecks the audience, I would not make it happen by having Daenerys or Bran roast King's Landing. I simply would choose a more likable and successful version of Stannis and have him doing something terrible, wrongfully believing it's the right thing to do.

Now theoretically this could be anyone but little Sam. And regardless of that character's identity, they would be a great, compelling villain. Practically though, the best candidate for going off that particular deep end is not some random second tier character. And it's not Daenerys "What Even Are White Walkers?" or Bran "I'm a robotic, omniscient plot device now the Three-Eyed Raven now" Stark either.

It's Jon.

***

There is an issue with this though. Stannis murdering a family member/sacrificing a child for their royal blood to win a battle was simply a continuation of Stannis' previous actions. Stannis had no issue with his wife's uncle being burned as a sacrifice to R'hllor, had his brother murdered to win a battle, and attempted to have his underage nephew (Edric Storm in the books, Gendry in the show) sacrificed for his royal blood.

Killing Shireen is Stannis taking this to its logical extreme. Everything he does is simply something he has done before. Except this time the audience isn't given an out: Shireen doesn't escape like Edric/Gendry, we care for her (unlike Alester Florent) and she isn't Stannis' opponent in battle (Renly).

What Stannis is doing, is not surprising or entirely unprecedented. It is ultimately just a darker twist on something he has done before. Which is weird because you would think that something that crosses a moral event horizon would be a real departure from his previous actions. But it's not and that is really crucial if we want to discuss Stannis 2.0.

If a good character goes bad then having them simply do something they've done before –  except this time it's just too much – makes sense. Just like the road to hell is paved with good intentions, escalating villainy should be a slippery slope of ever indefensible bad deeds.

And this is why it makes no sense to look at Jon and wonder who he is going to burn at the stake for R'hllor – because he won't.  What he would do to incur the audience's disdain needs to be something he has kind of done before. And that he has done on the show before, because it stands to reason that the show would want to keep its foreshadowing. (Hence Gendry's slightly pointless kidnapping by Melisandre in the show.)

So the the baby swap is out since it didn't happen on the show. Breaking a vow is a bit too generic and on its lonesome will not evoke any emotional reaction. And making high-handed, impulsive decisions that end up with terrible consequences has been already done with Jon making a series of high-handed, badly thought through decisions that netted the Night King a dragon and destroyed the Wall and yet netted Jon no audience disdain at all. So probably not that one either.

That leaves his relationship with Ygritte. In the books, we only see this relationship from Jon's point of view with all his justifications and inner struggles and his self-knowledge that while he lies about his allegiance to the Wildlings' cause, his feelings for Ygritte are real.

Now if one imagines that relationship from Ygritte's point of view (as she is in the books), Jon would come out of that as a supreme douchebag. He lead her on, lied to her, pretended to have feelings for her, then left her, publicly humiliated her and finally participated in a battle with her on the other side. Jon doesn't kill her but he is willing to do so by fighting her.

Now a real neutral point of view that doesn't vilify Ygritte to prop up Jon as a cool dude (as the show has done with her allying herself with cannibals and the village massacre), would be more of a wash, ethically speaking. Jon lies to Ygritte but his life is at stake and it wasn't even his own idea in the first place. There are consent issues with their relationship and Ygritte is as willing to kill Jon when she participates in that battle as it's the case the other way around.

But then Stannis wasn't that unjustified to go after Renly who was willing to fight and kill him in battle after all. Killing Renly nearly rates as self-defense. And Edric Storm got away. The question is not how horrible Jon's actions towards Ygritte were. But rather what the escalation of that sort of overall action would be like.

Now due to time constraints the only relationship where Jon could pull an escalated "Ygritte" is his relationship with Daenerys. And here I am kind of puzzled by the discourse around the idea. Because as passionately as people argue about it, they actually agree quite fundamentally: that Jon is doing it/not doing because he is the quintessential good guy.

That he either betrays his lover or the plutocratic will of his nation is disregarded as some sort of higher purpose collateral that doesn't at all reflect on his moral character.

But isn't Occam's Razor to the question of how a "good guy" manages to betray either lover or nation simply to question the "good guy" part?

But let's step back a bit. The theory that Jon is playing Dany proposes that Jon initiates this emotional manipulation because she wonders aloud about two things (while he wants her commitment on the fight against the White Walkers): 1. Her ability to achieve her overall strategic goal of winning the Iron Throne 2. What happens to her rear if she pulls all of her forces north.

Now, Jon never actually answers any of these questions (or any questions on how to get the Northern Lords to remain loyal to him and Dany) and that is a bit problematic. Because the second question of what happens in a war if you leave one side open to your enemies is an enormously important one.

What Jon appears to do, is rely on a truism about the North: that it cannot be conquered in Winter (and Winter is here.)

*beleaguered sigh*

This truism exists in our world about two countries. One is considered unconquerable in Winter, the other unconquerable in general. And while these truisms have held true for few centuries now, the reality is that attempts to conquer them have devastated both countries on more than one occasion to the sound of millions of dead inhabitants and bombing it to the bottom of the HDI.

If Jon relies on Winter to protect him and his allies from Cersei, he is an idiot. If Cersei attacks the unprotected North from the South, his ability to fight the White Walkers will be profoundly diminished even if Cersei fails at conquering the North itself. Dany is right to ask this question and he is wrong to ignore it.

And if that theory pans out and Jon took these strategic, legitimate concerns as a sign that he needs to loverboy it up instead of thinking how to protect the North from the South, then that's next level mansplaining.

But forget that point for a bit and go back to the situation in which Jon supposedly initiates it. He is recovering after the Wight Hunt and Dany swears to avenge her dragon while musing on her overall strategy of winning Westeros. And while Jon isn't in good shape, he is not in mortal danger. Not in general, not specifically by Dany. She is letting her hair down and she's pledging her support to his cause.

Jon's life is not the least on the line and the question whether Dany would or would not have pulled out of the war against the White Walkers if Jon hadn't started flirting with her in that moment is an unanswerable hypothetical. No matter how you slice or dice it, it's not certain at all (not to the audience, not to Jon) that she would have pulled out.

So Jon had three choices in this moment: not initiate a romantic relationship with Dany, initiate a romantic relationship out of genuine feeling, initiate a romantic relationship to manipulate her.

None of these choices would spell certain doom. It's not at all like the relationship with Ygritte, where not going along with it would have blown his cover and cost his life. It's also distinct from that situation insofar as he didn't choose to go undercover with the Wildlings in the first place but was commanded into the situation by his superior officer.

If Jon initiated the relationship to manipulate Dany, he chose to do this voluntarily without true necessity. It's, in fact, as necessary as Littlefinger manipulating Lysa into intrigue, murder and ill-fated marriage was. Of course, without that manipulation Littlefinger would have never advanced at court and become Master of the Coin, Lord of Harrenhall and Sweetrobin's guardian. But none of these things were necessary to grant his survival at any time.

The key difference between Jon and Littlefinger is that Jon allies himself with Dany to ensure mankind's survival instead of personal gain. But on the balance, another difference between Littlefinger and Jon's situation is that the romantic relationship wasn't necessary to ensure Dany's support. In fact, even the idea that Dany's concerns are sign of her wavering in her commitment is a minority if not fringe opinion among GOT's audience.

And that makes the idea of Jon manipulating Dany very unpalatable. The lack of necessity makes him a Littlefinger, rather than a Robb or a Ned or even the Jon who lied to Ygritte. And audiences prefer to see their heroes as honorable fools rather than manipulative, emotionally abusive jerks.

Because there is the heart of the problem. If Jon is truly manipulating Dany, he is an emotionally abusive jerk. He is profoundly wrong. He is the guy that your BFF has warned you about. "He is just using you for [something.]"

And that hits home in a way shadowbabies and Frey Pies and Qyburn doesn't. We don't know any necromancers who vivisect people. But we know the kind of jerk that Jon would be. It's not theoretical, it's something we know and because of that will not appreciate.

***

But while this absolutely checks off “make the evil deed painful to the audience” point in the “compelling villain” check list, it’s still nowhere near as ethically questionable as Stannis burning Shireen.

But Jon's Ygritte storyline doesn't end with him duping, betraying and leaving her. It ends with her getting killed. And not just killed, but killed in battle against Jon and his brothers. While Jon is not directly responsible for her death – he neither instigated nor executed the killing – he was willing to risk that his actions would kill her in that battle. The goal of a battle is to win and to use the Patton quote from above "make the other bastard die for his country." Of course, Jon acted in self-defense, Ygritte was fighting that battle against him and the NW voluntarily, fully willing, ready and able to kill him.

But then, to go back to Stannis, Stannis was also just acting in self-defense when he send the shadowbaby assassin to kill Renly. Renly had the superior force and showed himself fully willing, ready and able to kill Stannis in battle. The question whether Stannis' assassination of Renly is justified is a digression too far because that is not the point. The point is that Jon and Stannis got some person killed who was really close to them (brother, lover) and that was kind of, maybe, perhaps justified self-defense. You can argue for it in both cases.

However, as I mentioned before, Stannis' ultimate escalation of Renly's murder is killing Shireen. There is no maybe, perhaps, kind of, about the lack of justification for it. Stannis did not act in self-defense, Stannis was not provoked. The true necessity was also absent... although the proof for that is just hindsight. The sacrifice was supposed to save Stannis and his army. It did not. Thus it was never necessary. The whole thing is just wholly indefensible.

Now would an escalation of Jon's Ygritte storyline limit itself to the affair and betrayal or would it go all the way down to that self-defensive arrow that Jon wasn't directly responsible for? Except for a Stannis-like escalation that arrow could not be self-defensive, it would have to be undeserved, unjustified, unnecessary and Jon's responsibility.

The audience doesn't even have to like Dany at that point. That would be just crossing all moral event horizons, turning Jon into a villain and serving a "King Arthur Aragorn Jon  Snow is the final villain" plot twist that makes R+L=J look like child's play in comparison. It would be truly an epic twist, ending up in the plot twist pantheon next to "Bruce is a ghost" and "Soylent Green".

However, I don't think this is gonna happen. A villain protagonist on that level would have been foreshadowed much, much more, both in the books and the show. "The villain wins" is also really nihilistic and ends up on a quite bitter note with very little sweetness. Davos, Brienne and Sam emerging alone from the rubble would be a more positive and happier ending. It's also the sort of plot twist you think of five books and seven TV seasons later (too late), not when you conceive the story.

So what will happen to Jon instead if he doesn't become a villain?

There are really only two options: his characterization remains in a class of its own and he remains the only truly good guy protagonist or he takes a level in realpolitik and starts to play as dirty as necessary in whatever way. Not quite Jon, the villain but Jon the ethically challenged, Jon the Utilitarian.

(By the way, I am not saying that he has to play dirty with specific characters to qualify, just that that he has to play dirty somehow. In fact, playing dirty with certain characters might evoke a negative, emotional audience reaction that is not in proportion to the ethics violation it presents and thus the whole Utilitarianism bit might accidentally devolve into perceived villainy.)

The really fascinating bit about this is that Jon's characterization will define ASOIAF quite significantly. Jon is so crucial to the story's most fundamental conflict, that even if you discard the idea that he is The Protagonist, you would still have to agree that he is one of the most important protagonists. His characterization will contribute and lead to the resolution of that conflict. If he resolves it by playing dirty, the moral of the story will quite different than it is if he resolves it by always taking the heroic, high road.

And it's not just the moral of the story. Once the story decides to land on "Jon, the moral" or "Jon, the Utilitarian", the question whether we are consuming "Lord of the Rings with boobs" or a true deconstruction of Lord of the Rings will answer itself. And that will reflect on more than just Jon's storyline. If Jon stays heroic, Night King Sauron, our final, two-dimensional villain and other neat and flat resolutions become much more likely.

As such I would argue that the Jon’s characterization will define how good ASOIAF's famed realism truly is, what ideals it propagates, and what kind of story ASOIAF is.

I honestly can't predict how this will play out. But I remember that Ned and the Red Wedding promised a deconstruction of the genre, an acknowledgement that taking the high road constantly can be a dead end in real life. Jon not needing to be smarter than them in the end would break that promise.

[eyecicles]

What do you think it would be the perfect manga ending for Near? And Mello? And L?

My answer is going to be pretty vague because, for me, it’s a difficult question to answer for several reasons.

Story-wise I’m quite satisfied with L’s and Mello’s storylines from start to finish. It’s, of course, awful what happened but I understand why it did happen, and I can acknowledge that that’s actually one of the reasons I still care so much about Death Note.

And Death Note isn’t at all about what someone “deserves”; it also isn’t optimistic or encouraging in many (if any, lol) ways, so their endings fit the tone of the story very well.

So I think it would depend a lot on the circumstances if I would have been happy/happier with different ending for them. I’m sure it could have been written better - I just have a hard time coming up with a better outcome myself, haha. Every single detail would matter to me, probably.

But I can admit that a more emotional part of me would have liked to see L convicting Light. I like the thought of L having a hollow victory, the thought of L not actually being happy with watching Light die in the end. I suppose I just can’t see L having a happy ending, though. Like, L being all smiley and saying something like, “I suppose justice did prevail in the end!!”….. terrible….. Ugh. Imagine Light holding onto L, begging L to help him while Ryuk writes his name in his Death Note, imagine Light dying in L’s arms instead, aaahhhh

Same goes for Mello, honestly. In theory alone, I like the idea of him and Near defeating Light together and then working together as L, but I suppose what actually happened makes a bit more sense for the story. And I love how much Near talks about him in the warehouse - that was what made his sad death worth it to me. (I mean, he wasn’t one of the “good guys” by any stretch but still. I think we’re supposed to at least be able to sympathise a tiny bit with him, if we want to.)

Funnily enough, I have a harder time coming to terms with Near’s ending. Yes, he “won” and survived, but reading 109 chapter always feels a bit like getting punched in the guts. Although it’s not completely bleak (and I don’t hate the chapter or anything)… it simply depresses me to see Near semi-miserable and so isolated (which is nothing new, I know). I get why it would be maybe unrealistic but I still wish we could have see him at least slightly happier.

I kinda wanted to see him bonding with someone, preferably with a new character who has nothing to do with Wammy’s House. Now there obviously wasn’t enough room for that but you asked about what I would consider a “perfect” ending, haha. Doesn’t have to be realistic, right? I don’t mind a bit of bittersweetness, it’s just… not what I want for Near.

Interesting things happen after and because of L’s and Mello’s death, while Near’s ending is a lot more vague. There’s not a lot to cheer for. I like to think that he grew into his role as L, that he did find some happiness along the way, but, you know, sometimes I think I would’ve liked it better if there never was a chapter 109, haha.

So, idk, I think I would have to see and read those alternatives endings for me to decide if they’re perfect or not.

[whovianfeminism]

Whovian Feminism Reviews the New Target Novelizations

I fell in love with the Target Doctor Who novels in the year between when the Classic episodes were taken off of Hulu and when they were finally put back up on BritBox. Trying to catch up on all the stories I hadn’t seen yet — and re-watching some of my favorites — was becoming an insurmountable financial burden. DVDs for individual stories regularly cost anywhere between $15 and $40 (and some out-of-print DVDs could go for as much as $90 on Amazon or eBay). I started combing the local second-hand bookstores to find cheap used DVDs, but oddly, I rarely found any. What I did find were stacks of Target novels — $2 each, or three for $5, and suddenly I had a handful of stories previously out of my reach.

Even though the Classic stories are available for streaming again, I still love collecting and reading the Target novels. So when I heard they were reviving the imprint for novelizations of the modern series, I was ridiculously excited. Instead of waiting for the U.S. release date, my family ordered three of the novels for my birthday from Amazon UK: Rose by Russell T. Davies, The Christmas Invasion by Jenny Colgan, and Twice Upon a Time by Paul Cornell. I read them all in one weekend and then re-read them all again. Each is a delightful novelization that could entirely stand on its own and be appreciated by someone who has never seen its on-screen counterpart. But for those who have already seen the episode, each novelization brings a renewed and deeper appreciation for the on-screen story.

First up was Rose. It’s a hefty novelization that diverges fairly significantly from the on-screen story. The original story is there, to be sure, but Davies has slipped in a few more plot twists to keep even devoted re-watchers on their toes. He’s fully enjoying having absolutely zero time or monetary restrictions to build his new story — to be honest, I’m not even sure he was given a word-count limit. And yet, it never feels tiresome. There is genuine dread and horror at what the Nestene Consciousness is capable of. And even though the reader will likely already know which characters will live and die, there are enough new characters introduced to create a real sense of concern about whether your favorites will survive. 

Davies also goes on significant and lengthy digressions to explore the lives and inner thoughts of these characters. Surprisingly, it’s “Mickey the idiot” who comes out looking the best. Significant care is taken in Rose to explore Mickey’s life and how it influences his world view. He still has his flaws — he’s not the most attentive boyfriend, and he doesn’t react particularly well to the Doctor — but far greater qualities are revealed. Mickey is a man who has lived and suffered and lost most of the people he loved most, and yet all of those experiences have just made him kind. His life in the Powell Estates doesn’t feel stifling to him like it does to Rose, because to him it offers stability and the opportunity to make a new family. He opens his home to anyone who needs one, including three of his friends who don’t feel safe or welcomed in their homes.

Those three friends include a gay man, a trans woman, and another male character who doesn’t explicitly state his sexuality, but does take his first tentative steps towards a relationship with the other man after surviving the Auton attack. And Mickey welcomes them all with open arms. Davies could have left out several pages of additional material and rested on his laurels, and yet he went out of his way to add new characters to make this novelization explicitly, unapologetically queer. 

Next up was Colgan’s novelization of The Christmas Invasion. Personally, I think Colgan is one of the most quietly devastating writers working on Doctor Who right now. I rarely walk away from one of her books or Big Finish audios without feeling deeply upset about something she’s written (in the best way possible!). And The Christmas Invasion gives Colgan a lot of tragedy to work with. By the time that Harriet Jones orders the destruction of the Sycorax ship, you see a fuller impact of the invasion and how many lives were still lost despite the Doctor’s intervention, and the victory over the Sycorax seems even more hollow.

But Rose’s own personal tragedy is the focus here. It’s easy for those of us who have sat through regenerations multiple times to have our empathy for the companions dulled, and The Christmas Invasion is easier than most to mock. After all, the Doctor told Rose what was going to happen to him right before he regenerated. But Rose doesn’t just have to come to terms with what physically happens to the Doctor. She has to work through her own fears and insecurities about how their relationship will change, and whether she’s just permanently lost one of the most important people in her life. It’s another form of grieving, and Colgan handles Rose’s grief beautifully. 

But by far the most tragic scene was right at the end, when Rose leaves with the Doctor again and Jackie is left alone, desperately bustling around her empty apartment and creating as much noise as possible to hide her own sadness. Perhaps this just reflects my own guilt as a daughter who left her mother and travelled very, very far and doesn’t call nearly as often as she should, but damn, that hit me hard.

Finally, there was Cornell’s novelization of Twice Upon A Time. This was actually the first of the novelizations I read. The bittersweet joy of Peter Capaldi’s departure and the pure exhilaration of Jodie Whittaker’s arrival were still so fresh that I couldn’t wait to experience them all over again. And, oh, it was so good. I’m not exaggerating at all when I say I literally sobbed at the end of the book. But thankfully, Cornell kept me laughing all the way through.

Twice Upon A Time’s ending is a tear-jerker, but at its heart, this is a classic multi-Doctor story, full of humor and merciless mocking of each of the Doctors. Every single joke set up by Steven Moffat gets knocked out of the park by Paul Cornell. An anachronistic VHS becomes the Dalek’s missing Master Plan. An off-hand joke comparing the first Doctor to Merry Berry becomes an entirely new side-story about her friendship with the Third Doctor.

One of my greatest disappointments with the televised Twice Upon a Time was that Bill didn’t get a satisfying arc of her own. She existed largely to facilitate the plot, or to assist with the Doctor’s emotional labor towards his regeneration. But in his novelization, Cornell gives Bill the happy ending with Heather that she deserved, full of adventures and cats and love. 

But it’s the regeneration scene that keeps pulling me back to this book. The interior monologue that Cornell creates for the Twelfth Doctor as he decides whether or not to regenerate is so perfect for the moment. It reflects not only on Capaldi and Moffat’s tenure on the show, but also on the pivotal importance of the moment that’s about to come. This is a Doctor who feels trapped in a never-ending cycle, moving from battlefield to battlefield, gaining and losing friends along the way. And he’s doing it all from “basically the same model of body,” because he’s “one of those stuck-in-a-rut Time Lords.” He knows change is necessary, but doubts how much he’s really capable of.

The Doctor’s upcoming regeneration isn’t just a curiosity or a gimmick, it’s necessary, and vital, and a validation of the Twelfth Doctor’s decision to regenerate. The Thirteenth Doctor proves that change is possible, and that even the Doctor can still be surprised by something new and delightfully unexpected.

“Rose” by Russell T. Davies, “The Christmas Invasion” by Jenny T. Colgan, “The Day of the Doctor” by Steven Moffat, “Twice Upon a Time” by Paul Cornell, and “City of Death” by James Goss are currently available in the U.K. and will be released in the U.S. on June 19th. Or, if you’re impatient like me, you can order them through Amazon UK.