#might post additional chapter-notes ramblings here later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chatxkilluaxnoir · 2 years

Text

I posted 207 times in 2022

That's 80 more posts than 2021!

53 posts created (26%)

154 posts reblogged (74%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@chatxkilluaxnoir

@iscreamkitty

@nostalgiaruinedme

@theskeletongames

I tagged 203 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#tmnt - 60 posts

#tmnt 2012 - 56 posts

#undertale - 46 posts

#teenage mutant ninja turtles - 36 posts

#tmnt 2k12 - 34 posts

#ut - 32 posts

#chat's posts - 29 posts

#chatxkilluaxnoir - 28 posts

#killua noir's rambles - 27 posts

#tmnt 2012 anniversary - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i think it is cute that the oldest and youngest both have blue eyes but in different shades to more fit their personalities and/or aesthetic

This post gets pretty long, so I am putting a "Read More" Cut here:

My Top Posts in 2022:

Chapters: 2/15 Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Angelica Zilver/Aaron Zilver, Dipper Pines & Scarlet Zilver, Dipper Zilver & Scarlet Zilver, Alcor the Dreambender & Scarlet Zilver, Alcor the Dreambender & Reincarnations, Alcor the Dreambender & Aaron Zilver & Angelica Zilver, Dipper Pines & Scarlet Zilver & Aaron Zilver & Angelica Zilver, Dipper Zilver & Scarlet Zilver & Aaron Zilver & Angelica Zilver, Reincarnation/Reincarnation, There are more relationships but since I don't want to spoil the fic, or the reincarnations are in this fic, I won't be tagging them, just yet Characters: Dipper Pines, Dipper Zilver, Alcor, Alcor the Dreambender, Aaron Zilver, Angelica Zilver, r!'s, Reincarnations - Character, OC's, Original Characters, There are more characters in this fic to tag, I.e. those reincarnations and original characters I tagged, but once again I am not tagging them because of spoilers, and because I thought it would be fun for people to guess who was the reincarnation of who, not all reincarnations are revealed in this fic though, so unless there a lot of correct guesses for someone(s), I probably won't confirm anything until later, for reasons..., Gravity Falls Characters Reincarnations, Scarlet Zilver Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Non-Graphic Violence, Violence, I think it is both?, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Tell me if you think it is more than implied though, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, maybe? probably?, Demons, Demon Summoning, Seeing things you shouldn't have, Magic, Magic (Spoiler), Family, Family Feels, Family Drama, Dysfunctional Family, The Zilver Family is a mess, but they didn't always used to be, Kidnapping, Kinda?, The Zilver Family need therapy, But will they ever get it?, probably not, But we can hope., Tags May Change, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Maybe on the last two, i might add more tags as i go on, if some of you think I could/need to add more tags, please just let me know, Some new tags will be added here, or some certain chapters will get their own cw's/tw's, added in the author notes if need be, Not Beta Read, Maybe will be someday who knows Summary:

A Girl of striking red hair and her Saviour of Shadow met in a Forest of Death.

These two then wouldn't meet again for many years later.

(though not for a lacking of trying by one of them)

And when they did finally meet again; a deal, a bet would be made between them.

Perhaps it was a deal better not made.

----------

Well.

Too little, too late...

------------------------------------------------------

Also, I almost forgot to tag @transcendence-au about this! New TAU fic hot off the presses! I also have tumblr versions I posted/am posting too! I probably won’t tag you those, because I don’t want to bombard you guys with tags.

Other reasons, why I am tagging you guys on this post and the AO3 version, instead of the tumblr version(s) (for now, I might change my mind), is because so far the tumblr version(s) are showing up in the transcendence au tag, while this post isn’t (maybe because it is new, though, the tumblr version is showing is up, and I posted that one later. Maybe because there is a link? Or something. Idk), so you guys (or others) might have a harder time finding this post as-is.

So yeah.

Edit: This is now showing up in the transcendence au tag, so that is cool. I guess it just needed more time. Or maybe me removing and adding back in the transcendence au tag on this post fixed it not showing up. Either way (or some other reason), I am happy.

Anyways, I am excited to be posting this fic (even if posting fics can be tiring! ^^’)!

The rest is under the cut (I thought this post got a bit long, so I decided to add a cut).

I decided to just delete the original version of this post, because I can only seem to share Ch1 specifically through this method anyway. But, this post will at least show I have posted two chapters of this fic already, while the original one (which, most people won’t see anyway, since it will be gone soon), only shows I have posted 1 chapter.

In the original post, I talked about my notes doubling up on Ch1, now that I have posted Ch2, I was able to fix that.

Anyways, the first 2 chapters, i.e. Part 1 and 2 of the Prologue are now posted on AO3.

Will be posting any new chapters after these 2, every one or two weeks...give or take.

I might (real maybe here) post the “official” Ch1 earlier than I said, but I am not if that will be the care or not.

Seriously though, once again happy to start sharing this fic with ya’ll!

Will also be posting the tumblr versions of the first two chapters hopefully soon as well. =)

Edit 2: The first and 2nd chapter: Prologue Pt.1 & Pt.2 are now also posted on tumblr.

12 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

I am trying to find this post on tumblr. I know it exists, but I have only been able to see it and not glimpse it. Anyone know where I can “If I had a nickel” meme post with 2012 Leo, 2012 Karai, and Rise Casey/Cassandra in it?

(also, sorry if this picture is kind of blurry, this was the picture I could get, and it got even blurrier after I edited it).

12 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

Just a Post (Kind of a Rant) about TMNT Fandom(s) and (Certain) Crossovers (also just kind of me talking more generally about TMNT?)

Okay, so this post was inspired by some other posts and reblogs I have seen (and just my own experiences in the TMNT fandom so far, and reading/looking/watching/etc. TMNT crossovers, esp. Rise x 2012 ones, and/or Rise x Whatever Version(s)). So of those posts I was going to reblog and/or link here, but I literally can’t find them right now, so for now, I am not going to. I might still link some stuff in this post (might be those specific posts if I can find them again and/or it might be other posts and stuff), I might not, I might /link/reblog them at a later date instead.

Anyways, I am making this post, because I am a huge TMNT fan, and I LOVE both Rise and 2012 (and many other versions as well! Like IDW and 2003 just to name a couple); they are a couple of my favorites, and I just want to see both versions portrayed well, and to see good crossovers between the 2 (and/or other versions), where both series are respected, and not bashed, mischaracterized(and/or demonized, infantized(?), and/or made fun of/mocked) a lot, nerfed to hell (I am not necessarily against *some* “nerfing, but it has to be used well, in modicum, and/or in a way that makes sense. I also don’t like it when only one of the series/versions/etc. is nerfed, and not the other. Not the like either being nerfed, but if they were being both nerfed, I would be *a bit* more okay with it), or/& one and/or one(s) is put on a major pedestal (I do this with series and/or stuff too though, so once again I don’t necessarily have an issue with people doing this, my issue, is when another version is put down while doing this). And/or etc.

I have genuinely become sick of seeing this.

More under the cut/”Read More”, because this gets LONG, and (maybe even more) rant-y.

I love Rise, I really, really do. It might have taken me awhile to get into and really love it, as an older fan, who got into it through 2012 and the OG TMNT live action movies, and then got into other TMNT stuff later on, like 03, IDW, 2007, etc. (still getting into stuff like Mirage and 87 and other comics currently), because I found some of the changes--to be kind of weird. However, I have grown to really like it too, and I have also read and/or watched stuff that actually explained how some of the changes weren’t as major as I thought. For example, Raph and Leo, are still them at their core (like, I have seen about both of them about this, but the stuff I have seen about Rise Leo and 2012 Leo and/or previous versions were really eye-opening to me; esp. as a major Leo fan), despite the changes. They are still Raph and Leo. If that makes sense.

It is just, as I have seen some other people say (I will try to find these posts and/or whatever and link and/or reblog them) how they would be if one was given the role as the oldest (Raph), and such, had to calm down more, and the other was given a role of a younger sibling (specifically, a middle child) (Leo), and thus, was given the freedom he rarely got to have, and always wanted (for example, 2012 Leo defin. wanted it). It is still them, just placed in slightly different positions, and we are shown, how they/these characters would/might be like in these new(-ish) roles/positions. At their core though, they both still share many characteristics of their previous versions, but their new(-ish) roles causes some dynamic changes (Leo and Raph’s dynamic is still great, like most other version, but now there is a slight twist to it), and certain core traits/traits of these characters from previous versions are either more amplified and/or get explored more and/or shown in (sometimes) different ways, more tampered down, or something in-between.

So yeah; once I realized this and/or was helped to realize this (since I have always really loved Leo and Raph and their dynamic; love Donnie and Mikey too though and their dynamic with each other and Leo and/or Raph), I enjoyed Rise more, and now, like 2012, and some other versions; I also love a lot. It has also been fun to see new, but also paying homage and/or respect on other characters and relationships/dynamics! Like, I have always been interested in Leo and Donnie’s’ dynamic, and wish it was explored more, and Rise certainly delivered on that for example! And so on (might add more to this later).

*Cough cough*; got a little off-topic there kinda. But the main point I was trying to get at, while I was admittedly somewhat put off at first by all the changes as an older fan (and it didn’t help that Rise came out so quickly after 2012 ended. That might have caused some of the older fans to be sour towards it; esp. with some of the changes, because it might been a bit “too much/too many changes, too soon”. So that is one of the reasons that caused Rise to unfortunately not be as well-received as it could have been imo. Like, I love TMNT a lot; I always want more good TMNT stuff in my life, but I do think it might have been prudent and better for it if Rise released a bit later), and as a major Leo fan and etc., etc., I grew to love it very much too. And I do understand why Rise fans might have been upset or might still be upset at how some older TMNT fans treated Rise at first and/or still are; esp. with Rise’s uncertain status (here is to hoping for another season and/or movie); however, I do not think that means Rise fans (this is coming from a Rise fan as well, and I don’t mean all Rise fans when I say this ofc) should be doing the kind of stuff (negative stuff) they are doing to the previous versions that they are (esp. 2012 for some reason?). Like for example, crossover type things/stuff.

Like seriously; good thing someone like me, who is an older/longtime TMNT fan myself loves Rise so much, and is so not easily turned away from stuff I love and enjoy (I am basically ride or die with stuff I love most of the time), because the way 2012 and previous versions have been treated lately by some Rise fans and/or in the fandom(s) might drive me away from the fandom(s) and/or Rise. Like I said, that won’t happen; I love Rise, and love so much of the fandom, but at the same time, I am starting to get very much sick of how some of the Rise fandom is treating 2012 and/or previous versions.

Like, it has come the point that even stuff (fics and so on) that say they aren’t bashing 2012 (I am using 2012 here, because it is 2012 a lot) and/or that they love 2012 honestly seem quite bash-y to me anyway.

2012 will seem majorly mischaracterized (esp. Leo and Raph. But the others too also don’t escape this treatment), and some of the time and/or some of it is sometimes just growing pains; them getting used to writing the character better. And that is something most people can relate with, so I give more leeway with that.

Or maybe they just need to refresh their memory on the/a version, or research it more, or finish the version, or etc., and I can understand and give leeway to that; I don’t expect people and/or stuff to be perfect or anything, ofc. My issue is, if they don’t get better at them, or just get worse, or they seem to be making them (kinda) ;OOC, for bashing reasons.

Or nerfing reasons, or to put Rise on a pedestal, and basically be like: “Rise is the better family”, “2012 is abusive and/or terrible”, “Rise are more powerful”, “Rise are better fighters and more skilled”, “let’s undersell/downplay 2012 version and it’s main cast, cast of characters, heroes, villains, etc.”, “let’s not undersell/downplay the Rise version and it’s main cast, cast of characters, heroes, villains, etc. Sometimes lets even oversell/overplay them” (I know this and some other stuff I mentioned are more opinion-based and/or subjective, which I know, and is fine and I get that. We all have different opinions. In this case though, I mainly have a problem with it if is overdone, &/or if one side/version so obviously being favored so much over the other), “Rise has no issues, while 2012 does”, “Rise is better”, “2012 is worse”, etc. Which is just pretty maddening and annoying ngl.

2012 and other versions (and I am talking about the cast in general for both), have been through and faced so much, and they, like Rise, have both their strengths and weaknesses, and own things they can bring to the table in battle, as people, etc. But nope, lets just ignore all that, to put Rise on a pedestal and act like they would just stomp all versions in a fight, writing wise, character wise, etc. When that is just no true (imo). Don’t get me wrong, Rise is a great series; I want more of it, but other versions are also great. And I do not like the disrespect of the previous versions going on here, and the specific kind of pedestal-placing Rise is being put on.

Like seriously, do you know hard it has gotten to find good Rise x 2012 and/or Rise x Whatever Version type crossover content?

It has become so hard.

I just have to read/look at/watch/listen to/etc. crossovers and just hope, both versions are treated well and with respect, and it isn’t a bashing fic, most Mikey-centric 2012 x Rise fics and stuff (if ur a 2012 fan, u will know what I am talking about here), that there is little to no nerfing, that both/all versions get some spotlight and awesome moments, and/or etc.

Like, even some of the supposedly good crossovers that people like, where there are supposedly no bashing, and people are actually loving how 2012 are characterized and think they are “on-point”.

(Which, honestly, just kind of makes me scratch my head, because with some of these crossovers, I just don’t see it. Like, I have read some really good 2012/2012-centric stuff which actually had characterization that was point; not like some of these fics and/or crossover fics where people say they are. Heck, even in comparison to some other 2012 x Rise crossovers which I actually love, and either have no or very, very minor problems with, I would say the characterization of the 2012 crew is better in those. This is all just my opinion though; I know other people have their own personal opinions and interpretations. And I am not even calling those crossovers, fics, and/or etc., bad; I just personally find some issue with them).

I am just like, but 2012 is getting pretty mischaracterized (sometimes very mischaracterized) here though (and in turn, so is Rise sometimes. Because a lot of the time, I see mischaracterization of 2012 and/or another version, Rise also gets mischaracterized too. Which, as a Rise fan, 2012 fan, general TMNT fan, I ofc don’t like very much. I love when people are as in-character as they can be), and/or nerfed, and/or I am seeing a “let’s highlight 2012′s issues; even though some of those issues were resolved, because characters develop, or don’t exist really in the first place”, and/or either “barely highlight Rise’s issues, act like they have none, basically show them as having none, or show so much later, that it sometimes kind of feels like, too little, too late”

(I don’t have an issue with versions working through their issues and stuff and/or teaching other versions stuff, as long as it makes sense, and isn’t being done in unequal, unfair, (very) biased way. I find this kind of stuff very interesting when done well. So much potential for stuff. Or like, imagine, all the versions getting therapy, but like, it is done in an equal way between the versions, if that makes sense, idk),

and/or “I am kinda getting some vibes that remind of those Mikey-centric crossover stuff (I am not saying all of them, but God is it a lot of them)”, “and/or etc.”

So it just kind of confuses me some. But at the same time; I can understand (or at least somewhat) understand why people like and/or love them. And while I say it confuses me; I do think I get why some people may think that, or at least I try to.

Like, the crossovers I am talking about here aren’t those weird Mikey-centric, 2012 fam are abusive and awful, and/or type crossovers here. Like, as someone who is a fan and loves the 2012 version; I don’t get why people like them, but I do some people do, for whatever reason. However, at least with stuff like this and/or similar stuff and/or some crossovers bashing on 2012/previous versions, I know more what I am getting into I guess, or I know soon enough? There are some crossovers that take longer for that to happen; to show their “true colors” so to speak, and crossovers where I almost feel tricked? That is probably too harsh of a word, but idk a better way to explain it. Maybe a better way to describe it, is that I don’t know what I am getting into as much??

Like a crossover will literally say no bashing/no 2012 bashing, and/or that they love 2012 (though sometimes when they say these things, their other tags, descriptions, posts, etc., will say a different story imo, but I digress. Maybe they mean that; heck, they probably do, but from an outside POV, it doesn’t always feel that way), and/or just seems like it will be a good, non-bashing crossover, but then as you go on/get into it more, you realize that nevermind it is, or at least kind of is, and/or the issues are just piling up, so even if I might really want to enjoy it,

(like there is this one 2012 x Rise crossover fic that so many people seem to be enjoying; people have made so much fanart of it, memes, etc., and it is already really long, and it is looking to be super long; chapter and word wise once done, so I would be fed on a really long, interesting premise, 2012 x Rise crossover fic for a long time. But the problem is, due to some of the reasons I listed in this post; I just can’t enjoy it. I really want to; I really do, but I am having so much trouble doing so, and that makes me sad. And that happens to other crossovers too. Other ones that have so much promise and potential, and/or say there isn’t any bashing and that they 2012 too (and/or that other version. So they love both Rise and 2012 and/or that other version)

and/or so many people seem to love it; even 2012 and/or previous versions fans and/or ones that don’t hate 2012 and/or previous versions, so I also really want to enjoy and love it. Sometimes, maybe even a lot of the time, there is stuff I do really like/love about it, but in the end the stuff that makes it unenjoyable usually gets to be too much (not always though), and I have to stop. Sometimes it takes longer though to happen, or shorter, or maybe, hopefully it doesn’t happen at all, and it gets genuinely better and even more enjoyable. But a fair amount of times, that last thing doesn’t end happening to me (at least not for me), and that makes me sad.

I just want more good (great even!) 2012 x Rise crossovers (I love these crossovers so much; when I can actually find an amazing one) and/or Rise x TMNT Version, or maybe even more than 2 versions crossover with Rise; is that too much ask!?

(Here is to hoping that the crossovers and/or 2012 x Rise crossovers that I do actually love, don’t go the way of some current crossovers that I don’t like very much and/or am starting to dislike, are going. And/or future crossovers also don’t do the kind of stuff I mentioned I disliked here as well, and are just, great instead, lol. Seriously though, there are some crossover(s) worry might start to become like I mentioned; esp., as of right now at least, the nerfing issue(s), for example(s).)

See the full post

13 notes - Posted December 19, 2022

𝕰𝖚𝖕𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆: A (Mostly) Canon Compliment then Canon Divergence HxH Killugon Long One-Shot

This is my Hunter x Hunter Killugon gift/gift fic for my Valentine for the @killugonvalentines event! I know it is just barely 14th (at least for some people), but I am posting it now; just in case I don’t have time later. My Valentine was @ash1875! (I seem to be having a bit of trouble tagging my Valentine, so I am not sure if my tag of them will work). I hope they and anyone else who may read my fic enjoys it! There is 6k+ words, so a fair amount to read.

Will probably be posting a AO3 version soon too, if you prefer to read there. And when I say soon, I mean way sooner than the other fics I have said that for (which I haven’t posted, for the most part, on AO3 yet), because the format of this fic makes it easier to more quickly post on AO3. Alright, I am done rambling, let’s get to the fic. There will be a preview of it, then I will put the rest under a “read more” cut.

(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)

Killua had just departed with Gon at the World Tree, Alluka in-hand, when he finally let his feelings overflow. Not on purpose, mind you, and if you were to ask Killua if he was upset about something, he would say he is fine, and that nothing was wrong. But Killua, despite his tough show and teasing in front of Gon, felt like his soul was torn in two at separating with Gon. So tears did flow and flow for a good awhile after Gon had left; it was quiet, and Killua kept his face away from Alluka to not show her how actually upset he was that Gon wasn’t there with him anymore (Alluka was perceptive though, and knew something was up.).

After crying for awhile, standing still in place at the bottom of the world tree, every so often looking up, as if Killua could somehow see Gon all the way at the top of the tree, he finally wiped them away, closed his eyes for awhile, and the re-opened them, his eyes looking like he had never cried at all, and started to turn to walk away. Sadness, but determination in his eyes.

“Come on, Alluka, it is time to go.” Killua said to Alluka.

Alluka looked up at Killua, words on her tongue to say about Killua’s unvoiced feelings and the unspoken words she could feel were there besides the words Killua just said. Alluka felt the words being said applied to more than just what was being said literally. Alluka truly wanted to say something to Killua, but decided (for now) to keep her mouth shut about it. Thinking maybe it wasn’t the best time. She was also patient after all, and she had all the time in the world to ask her Nii-chan about it. Because Alluka for sure, wouldn’t let all this pass. She was for sure going to ask about all this. …To ask about Gon. She just–wouldn’t right now.

“Ok Nii-chan! Coming!” Replied cheerily.

Alluka then started walking properly with Killua and stopped dragging her feet.

They then walked in silence for awhile until they reached their airship they would travel the world together in.

Once they seated themselves and before they took off, he got a message on his phone from Palm, saying to check out a link in their email which linked to a live feed of something they might be interested in seeing.

So Killua got out his tablet after reading the message, and looked for this email. He found it, opened it, and clicked on the link. And to his surprise, he saw Gon…who appeared to be talking to his father. Killua wondered for a second how this feed was being shown, but then shook his head at that thought. After that dragonfly Chimera Ant’s powers, and so many things he has seen and experienced; even before he took his first Hunter Exam, someone– or something getting this feed isn’t really a surprise. He still thought to ask Palm where she got the link though; just for curiosity’s sake.

…To be honest though, the main reason why he didn’t care that much how he was able to see this feed of Gon, was, well, because he was able to see Gon again, so full of life, and so happy talking to his father (though, seeing Gon so happy, without him there, talking to Ging also stung some) in probably the clearest definition he was going to see Gon in awhile. Be that in-person (of course)..or not. So to Killua, beggars couldn’t really be choosers; he was happy with what he was able to get.

Killua lost in thought, got shook out of it by Alluka who had come over from somewhere else in the airship with some snacks and drinks for their flight–wherever they were going (not even they knew where. They were currently traveling over some beautiful crystal-like formations growing on the surface. But that’s the thing, they were just traveling, with no real destinations in mind, neither of the siblings really knew where they wanted to go, at least not truly. They both hoped someday they would).

“AH! Nii-chan, is that Gon there? Those tablet things are so cool. I saw you constantly on one in the car leaving–that place. What is Gon doing anyway? ...Oh. He looks to be on top of the world tree. Hmmmm..???”, questioned Alluka.

“Yes, that is Gon. And yes he is still on top of the world tree. This video feed appears live somehow. Do you want to watch it with me?”, answered Killua.

“Of course I do!” Alluka gleefully shouted; clapping her hands.

She scooted over super close to Killua and leaned over to peer at the tabet in Killua’s hands.

Killua leaned in too, getting closer to his sister, and making it easier for both of them to view the screen on the tablet. (They were lucky Killua could multitask while flying, and that there were some things that can make the flight basically auto).

And for awhile, they just sat there, happily watching tablet, happily watching Gon (and Ging, but who cares about him, when Gon was right there), who was happy too.

At that moment, they felt like they were the only people in the world.

And they were happy.

But if they were happy, if Killua was happy, why did Killua’s heart hurt so much?

(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)(---)

Gon had just finished his talk with Ging and was climbing down the giant tree. It was now dark, and so the climb down was more dangerous than his climb up, but he had been through worse, nen or no nen. He could have slept up there until the morning, but—he had his talk Ging, and now he wanted to move on, move forward as quickly as possible. So even just waiting until morning was too much. Gon wanted to move forward from Ging (from Killua too?); he just felt like he had to.

Gon had made it down from the tree, and was walking on the streets trying to find a hotel or something to stay the night in (if he had to, he could just sleep somewhere outside though), when he ran into Palm.

“Ommpphhh! Nenene, oh, is that you Palm, what you doing out here so late?”

“Hm, well, I was just out for a walk, it is a beautiful night out and all.”

Gon didn’t really believe Palm’s reasons, but decided not to press it. She probably had her reasons for lying, if she was. And she had no reason to lie maliciously to him too.

See the full post

13 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Anyone Know the Name of this YouTube Creator. They create a lot of Undertale/UTMV AMVs

And also what is going on w/ their channel in general. Because like, I kind of know the name of some videos, but they don’t seem to be showing up in search at all, and I am pretty sure I am subbed to them, but they aren’t showing up in subscriptions I am pretty sure. I am thinking something probably happen to their channel, hope they come back, and their videos.

Saying that, I am still trying to remember this YouTube Creator’s name. If anyone knows the full name of a YouTuber that made videos like (these aren’t the exact names, but they should be close enough) “Underverse amv Chris Classic” or “Undervese Classic” or something like that Undertale AMV (or something like that) Violent New Breed (this was one of my fav. AMVs. Had a lot of VIllain Sans Squad animation stuff, esp. from Ep5 Part 1 in it, “Underverse Adam Jensen The Hunter amv” or “Underverse Jensen The Hunter amv” or “Underverse The Hunter AMV” (another fav. of mine) to name some of them. They did a lot of Undertale, Undertale animations, Underverse, XTale, Glitchtale, Villain Sans Squad, Etc. AMVs, and I really liked them.

Their YT name was like shark something, Idk, I am not sure it started with a S though, and they had a Sans with Headphones pfp I am pretty sure. Even if something did happen to their channel (which I hope that isn’t the case, and if it is, I hope it/they come back), I would still love the actual full name of this YouTube creator. If anyone does know it, please just me in this post.

God, why do I keep doing this to myself? Drive myself insane trying to find something/stuff. *Shakes my head*.

16 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #chatxkilluaxnoir #finally did this with just one more day until it is 2023!#lmao

0 notes

an-eldritch-peredhel · 3 years

Text

she weaves a passage where the gods will fly

The Goddess and the Weaver: Chapter 1

For @finweanladiesweek Day 1: Míriel Þerindë and Indis | Read on AO3 | 6617 words

(He said: ‘She will be Yours before she will be Mine, she will be Mine before she will be Yours. No work of threads will be her greatest feat, but in its legacy she will take its weaving from You.’) “And what did you say?” (I told Him that if you would be remembered first and foremost for being His, then it fell to Me to remember that you were Mine. That you will always be Mine should that be your desire, and that I would make most of the time we had.)

Þerindë and her god, in life and death and back again.

Notes: So. I posted this here last year, but afaik I forgot to actually post the draft on AO3! It got deleted, I realized months later, and it frustrated me so much that I ignored this up until now. But I'm giving it another go, with new and improved punctuation and phrasing because (shock of all shocks) I have actually improved my writing within a year!

Titles and initial inspiration from The Goddess and the Weaver by Spiral Dance. Mainly focused on Míriel and Vairë but Finwë/Indis/Míriel my beloveds <3 Warnings for mentions of pregnancy and depression, this chapter goes from fluffy to angsty and the next one (whenever it gets posted) will be the proper hurt/comfort. Additional notes on AO3, as always, reblogs and tag rambling are greatly appreciated!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

(Oh! Oh Nâmâz, look!)

(What is- oh. Wiyarêz it would be-)

(She figured it out! And no one’s even found them yet! All on her own!)

( Wiyarêz-)

(And it’s so easy to forget how hard it can be to figure things out without help, it must be even worse for the Children. But she’s weaving! Nâmâz, do You know her name? Surely it will be remembered?)

(...Very well. Her name is Míriel. But Wiyarêz, it will not be remembered for what You hope.)

(What do You mean?)

(She will be Yours before she will be Mine, she will be Mine before she will be Yours. No work of threads will be her greatest feat, but in its legacy she will take its Weaving from You.)

(...Very well then. If she will be remembered for being Yours, then it will fall to Me to remember that she is Mine. She will always be Mine should that be her desire, and I will make the most of it.)

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It has only been a matter of months since Míriel Þerindë came to Valinórë, and there is a god on her threshold. Oh, She’s done a good enough job of hiding it- certainly better than the Other that she’d seen, who resembled nothing so much as a very large, upright, predatory deer- but it’s the little details that make the big picture, and Míriel is very good at seeing the little details. She looks like a tall nís with skin so dark it’s almost black and countless tiny intricate braids spilling down Her back, woven through and tied up with bright bits of fabric and ribbon. The strip of cloth around Her chest is white and beautifully embroidered, Her skirt is somehow made out of a single piece of cloth, woven together without stitches in colors too bright for any dyes they could make in Cuiviénen- and oh that makes Míriel jealous because she hasn’t had any time to experiment yet- but that’s not the point.

The point is that Her dark eyes are too bright and too deep, and only one of them is focused on her while the other seems to stare off into the past. Her fingers are too-long and twitching in a way that Míriel thinks looks like She’s embroidering the air, and when She smiles too many wrinkles appear around Her eyes and mouth and nose and She has too few teeth. It sets Míriel’s hair sticking up along her neck and her ears splaying back out of instinctual fear.

But the god does smile- and it’s a proper smile, it doesn’t stretch too far even if the wrinkles and teeth are wrong, and She pauses her non-existent embroidering to give a small, distracted wave (She has the same callouses that Míriel does) as She whispers,

“Hello, might I talk to you?” instead of performing some cacophonous hours-long song to get the same point across or beaming Her thoughts directly into Míriel’s soft, incarnate mind. So she decides to do the polite thing, instead of running screaming back to the sea, and nods while stepping aside to invite the Vala into her home.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Míriel’s home is nothing like Vairë’s or Her husband’s halls, but She is charmed nonetheless. Everything is so temporary- even beyond the natural limitations of the Children this is clearly not a place built to last- but there is still so much character to it. There are bundles of plants hanging from the rafters, most of them good for dyes. There is very little furniture, of which an intricately carved loom- strung halfway through a project- is clearly the most prized. There is a small fire burning in a hearth, a pot sitting in it and slowly bubbling away. Míriel notices Her looking and her too-pale cheeks darken.

“Apologies, I haven’t gotten quite… settled yet. Would You like some of the soup?” One of her ears twitches and she mumbles to herself “Do They even need to eat?”

“No, we don’t. But I can if you’d like Me to, Míriel.” Míriel flinches slightly and bites at the edge of her lip.

“Ah. You already know my name. Alright then. I don’t know Yours?” There is a brief silence before Míriel continues, “May I? Know Your name, that is?” Ah, that makes sense. She hadn’t introduced Herself, had She?

“I am Wiyarêz- I believe that would be Vairë, in your tongue, Vala of the fibrous arts and history in all its depictions. I am very glad to finally meet you.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

There is a god in Míriel’s home, and she has no idea how this became a regular occurrence. In between the periodic realizations that she has one of the Powers sitting and drinking tea in her humble abode, she is able to fall into long conversations about weaving and embroidery and other arts that she’s dabbled in but the Weaver has mastered long ago. She learns so much- but she likes to think that she’s teaching the Vala a little as well, as blasphemous as that might be. She sees it in the way that Her eyes and smile widen just a bit when Míriel mentions a certain stitch, or the way that She seems a little more comfortable sipping from Her cup every time, even if Her fingers tap against it whenever Her hands must be still.

Vairë is always moving, Míriel has noticed. It’s rather charming, she thinks. And then she forcibly removes herself from that train of thought to focus back on the god who is talking at length about different kinds of spindles. It’s an interesting topic, one that Míriel doesn’t find difficult to focus on, and though not her area of expertise she thinks she manages to contribute nicely. But her mind keeps wandering. What is it that draws her to the Vala? And at what point does it become improper, what point is too far?

And how close to the point are they, when the god seeks out her company so often and for so long that Míriel has begun talking about things outside their common interest for the sake of conversation. And the god has as well- Míriel has heard many a tale of history before the Quendi even awoke and enjoyed them all.

Does this make them friends? She wonders, half panicked and half hopeful. Surely friendship takes more than some regular conversation and shared interests? Surely it must.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It’s a day like any other. Laurelin’s light is bright. There are birds lazily singing, with no regard to anything but their own import. No notable History is being made, in the here and now with Her friend, and Vairë revels in it. Their tea has been finished, the rest of the pot likely gone cold, and a content silence has fallen on them.

“I’m going to be moving soon.” Míriel says suddenly, apropos of nothing. “Well, I say soon. Comparatively. It will likely take longer than I’d like. You’ll be able to find me still, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Vairë replies, Her stitches flying faster in Her confusion. This is more personal than their usual subjects, but She also wonders why. The house that Míriel has been living in will stand for a while yet, and She sees no reason to bring it up now. “Moving?”

“Yes, they’re planning a city nearby, and it makes sense to be in a more central location.” She must notice Vairë’s bewilderment because she elaborates. “You are not my only caller, my Lady, though You are one of the most pleasant! I am, after all, the greatest weaver and broideress of the Quendi, though no longer the greatest in the land,” She nods her head deferentially towards Vairë, but there is a teasing smile on her face.

All at once, She is stricken by how much She cares. It is not a part of Her Nature, as history by definition retains distance, though She certainly isn’t cold as Her Husband tends to be. Still, it’s rare indeed that there is something that inspires true affection in Her, beyond Her calling as either Weaver or Historian. Míriel seems to be one of them.

“Do you know what the city will be called?” She asks, buying time to think. She has noticed that Míriel doesn't like certain extended silences, when the thread of the conversation is paused as She ponders over it, so She does Her best to continue speaking, even with little yet to say. Fortunately she does not mind sitting in silence as they both embroider, for Vairë is far from the best at speaking for the sake of it.

“Oh, hardly,” she laughs, “Something that sounds nice with Túna, since that’s where they’re building it. I’m no architect or word-smith, to be consulted in that! Of course it will still be a while yet before things truly begin, there’s so much planning that has to happen and even then it will take time before enough buildings are built that people can start moving in at will.”

The flow of the conversation returns, but Vairë continues pondering underneath it until She is back in Her Halls. She reaches a tentative decision, though She will wait for the best time to enact it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

They had planned on going walking. Míriel had been feeling rather cooped up as of late, busy with commissions for the various buildings finally being completed, and so of course today was the day when the Powers chose to grace her home with rain. Despite her less than charitable current feelings towards Manwë and Ulmo and Their Maiar (she seems to have gotten concerningly comfortable with blasphemy lately) she still wishes to enjoy the company of her favorite of Their Kin, and so there is a cheerful fire in her hearth, with a pot of water bubbling away.

She is sitting back, unfinished tapestries deliberately forgotten. She loves her craft, but cannot do it unceasingly like Vairë seems to- Her hands picking and twisting at the air even now as they talk. The topic up for discussion at the moment, through some unknown train of thought, is marriage. Míriel would normally, perhaps, take more caution on this subject, personal as it is, but she has been working very hard, and is very tired, and somehow has grown to trust the Vala sitting across her table enough to be willing to vent her woes.

“It must be nice, to be created knowing who your partner will be for the rest of time. Us incarnates just have to do things the hard way, I suppose.” She is whining, she knows, but can’t be bothered to feel ashamed.

“But the Eldar get the opportunity to discover each other, to learn and grow together. I do not believe either way is better, just different. I was created for Námo, and He for I, and We have been bound since the beginning, and We find joy in this. Perhaps you were created for someone, and you must find them, and you will find joy in that.”

“That is true, I know, but I’m just so busy. However much I’d like to, I just don’t have the time to go out hunting for the person Ilúvatar designed for me. Frankly, I might as well bind myself to You, and spare myself the trouble.” The words slip out of her mouth without thinking and she winces. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to say that. Not that I- not in marriage obviously, but-”

She cuts herself off at a sudden scrape and clatter and creak, a chair being jolted back, a table suddenly bearing weight. Vairë leans closer, raising herself on Her toes, Her ears pricked and Her eyes blown wide.

“Did you mean it?” She asks, quiet as the pull of a thread. Míriel can only nod helplessly, her entire face aflame with embarrassment. She is not in love with her god, but she loves Her nonetheless, certainly enough to bind herself to Her, though she couldn’t expect that to be an option-

“Follow Me,” Vairë says, as though the words are a shuttle-loom flying under Her hand, or countless silver needles tumbling out of Her mouth. “Follow Me, as servant or student or disciple or as anything you’d like. Be Mine to teach and be taught by in turn. If it be your will, be Mine.” Her arms and legs are trembling as they hold Her body over the table, Her cheeks have flushed to near-black, and Her skirts are bundled in disarray from the quick movement. She has never looked more like an Elda, just as She has never sounded less Eldarin.

And Míriel sits, frozen in shock. There are a growing number of families among the Minyar who are seeking out Maiar as patrons, and tensions between Eldar and Ainur are beginning to dissipate as distance is put from the yéni of living in the Dark Hunter’s shadow. But these kinds of relationships, those between Quendi and Valar, are precious few- she has only heard of them thanks to her direct connection to Vairë. There are perhaps a few dozen, if that, in all the kindreds who have decided to serve one of the Powers. Most are concentrated between three or four of them, with very few outliers. Vairë is asking Míriel to make Her one of them.

“What?” She chokes out.

“It is not typical, I know. For those few that choose this path, it is they who ask Us, not the reverse. And you needn’t accept, if it isn’t your desire. But I asked you from my Ëala, and I ask you still: would you follow Me?” Her voice wavers like a plucked string, and Míriel didn’t lie when she said she meant it. There was only one option, really, since the beginning.

“Yes. I will follow You. My Lady,” She declares, almost without thinking. There is a moment of silence before Vairë dips Her head in acknowledgement, seemingly overcome.

“What do I do?” Míriel asks, her head solidifying around the decision her heart has already made.

“I do not know,” Vairë answers at last, and there is a sheepish tilt to Her ears that Míriel is sure She wouldn’t have known to imply when they first met. “It is not a common practice yet, and I have no experience in taking on followers beyond those few of the Maiar that choose to serve me. And I was not prepared to ask you, I intended to wait until I could discuss with Oromë, as he has the most Eldar who ride in his hunt, official followers or no.”

“Then we will make do,” She says, standing and offering her hand to the god leaning over her little wood table.

“Now?”

“Why not? I’ve made up my mind, and I’m not about to change it on a whim.” Vairë stands, and there is a brief moment of awkwardness where neither of them are sure what to do. Míriel considers kneeling, before dismissing the thought entirely. It wouldn’t suit either of them. They end up standing face-to-face, hands lightly clasped to give the Vala’s fingers room to fiddle and twitch. Despite the surface-level panic of her mind trying to figure out what to say, underneath she is completely calm. Míriel closes her eyes, takes a breath and begins.

“Ilúvatar, witness this oath. I swear this as I am able: to serve my Lady Wiyarêz-” her tongue nearly trips as her throat buzzes over the Valarin, but it’s worth it for the choked sound of shock Vairë makes at hearing Her proper Name- “From now until all things end and the world is made new, unless She would have me released before that is so. Let my hands follow Her hands, let my song follow Her Song, and let me be faithful to Her in all things. So I have sworn, so might it be.”

“Îl-Launaþrænšiwâz, witness this oath. I accept the oath of Míriel Þerindë and I swear this in turn: To be a Lady worthy of her service from now until all things change and the Song is Sung again, unless she would have Me release her before that is so. Let Me guide her and be guided, let Me hear her and be heard, and let My hands be ever true as I Weave her fate to Mine. So I have sworn, so Shall it be.”

There is a moment of ringing silence- the breath at the end of a song before thunderous applause, the final stitch in a tapestry pulled tight, the last step taken before opening the door to home- and it stretches into a thousand separate fibres of possibility spinning together into a thread, a miniscule part of a whole. Nothing has changed, but everything has. It’s a gentle revelation, weighing down the air with the thickness of it.

“And that’s it?” Míriel says, softly breaking the atmosphere that had settled in her lungs.

“And that’s it,” Vairë responds, and then there is a Vala clinging to her tight enough to make breathing difficult. “Akhi- âzi-at-mi” her Lady whispers, and though she understands precisely one word of Valarin- Vairë’s Name- she knows enough to hug Her back as the words settle warmly down her spine and arms.

They hum in the back of her head, twisting along the threads that have woven themselves there, tying her to her god. They do not change her, though perhaps they would have Before, they simply fit into the new framework that has become Míriel. As if responding to her lack of recognition for the words- and perhaps it is- Quenya drifts into her mind. Mírënya. It’s sweet. She likes it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It is not long after She and Míriel’s Threadbond has settled from its weaving when the beginnings of another change to their dynamic rears its head, regardless of how Her Jewel denies it at first.

“I saw someone. When I was delivering my tapestries to the Mindon. He seemed… nice.”

“Oh? Who is he?” Vairë questions, looking up from Her embroidery at the broken silence.

“That’s the problem. It was Finwë. The King.”

“Why is that a problem? Surely it is good that your King is agreeable?”

“Well, yes, but I’d like to see him again. Outside of work that is. We talked a lot, not just about future commissions either. He’s a potter, you know, and he’s trying to make sets of dishes for his house, but he’s having trouble making the time for it. He offered to show some of his work to me but I didn’t have enough time. But I want to! I want to get to know him better. As- as a friend.” Vairë waits. “I cannot simply make friends with the King!”

“You’re friends with me,” She points out.

“Yes but that’s- that’s different. I just-” Míriel sighs, and cuts herself off. Not the right approach, then.

“Tell me about him?” She asks, settling back.

Míriel fiddles with the ribbon in her hair- the braid it’s a part of must be in need of redoing, just old enough to itch against her scalp. Vairë had given it to her as a tangible symbol of their bond- pulled it out from Her own braids and tied it into Míriel’s. It’s near-black silk that shines a brilliant magenta in the light, embroidered in an iridescent lace-like pattern. She had gone perhaps a bit overboard with it, but She felt it had been justified.

“I- well. I met him first long ago, back at Cuiviénen. I didn’t know him very well, and then he was leading us during the Great Journey, and really there just wasn’t any reason to try and get closer to him. Although I regret that now,” She trails off a little, thinking, “Let me see, he’s a potter, I told you that already, but he originally picked it up because he broke his grandmother’s favorite pitcher as a child and wanted to replace it. He’s terribly sweet, but he sometimes slips into sarcasm dry enough to catch fire and then starts blushing after he realizes what he said. I suppose he thinks it’s not proper for a King, but I think it gives him character. I don’t know if you’ve seen him-” Vairë has, through her tapestries, but Míriel gives her no chance to respond- “But he’s quite handsome, really. His eyes are as silvery as my hair, and his hair is almost-black- like most Noldor, of course, but it’s shimmery, with waves like deep waters. I couldn’t even tell what other color it was, it looked bluish sometimes and reddish at others. I haven’t seen hair like that before. Is it because he saw Valinórë first, do you think?”

Vairë simply hums, noncommittedly. She does not, in fact, think that, not when the more reasonable explanation is that Míriel simply hadn’t bothered noticing the individual differences and beauty that every hröa contains. It isn’t tangible in a way that is easy to capture in needle and thread, so She imagines it would be all too easy for Her disciple to dismiss, given how caught up she often is in her Craft.

“You really must leave your home more often, if this is how you react upon meeting only a single person.”

“I met others! Though few encounters worth repeating.”

“Well then, repeat the ones that were.”

“Well. All right, admittedly only one other stands out. It was before I came across Finwë, and she quite literally ran into me! I knew her back before as well, better than him, though that isn’t saying much. We didn’t have time to talk as much as either of us would like, since we both had places to be, but she invited me for tea to catch up and so that I could see my works hung in their proper places. Her name is Indis. She’s a Min- a Vanya, so she’s got gorgeous gold hair- it’s like Laurelin’s rays- with beautiful curls that you could just get lost in, and her skin is like burnished bronze-”

“That’s a very Noldorin comparison,” Vairë remarks, somewhat bemused. She would claim to know Míriel well- almost as well as the back of Her Loom, as the saying goes- but She’s never seen her act quite like this before.

“Yes, well, I am a Noldo, much as my palor might belie that. She’s taller than me, too, though I could’ve sworn she wasn’t back in Endórë, but we were younger then. She only likes soft cloth, and never wears embroidery next to her skin. She said she hates the texture, and she’s soft spoken except for when she’s stating her opinions, so it’s undoubtedly true-”

Vairë adjusts Her embroidery and settles in, still listening but mind partially devoted to watching Her Domain. This might take a while.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

There is a silver ring on the first finger of Míriel’s right hand. It has been there five months and will be there for eleven more, a longer betrothal period than traditional, but one that is necessary for the sake of both politics and preparation. She can’t decide if she hates it or not.

Finwë half-jokingly said that he’d be sad to see it go, since it reminded him of her. Neither of their Crafts are suited for the making of betrothal rings, the few that Finwë has tried making with his pottery are lovely, but certainly not the smooth, simple silver that tradition demands, so he declared that in lieu of that, the metal itself would have to suffice to help him remember why all the planning and stress was worth it. While she appreciates the compliment, she’s more worried about what- about who- their eventual marriage rings will remind her of. It’s a cold reminder, wrapped around her finger, made worse for the unspoken knowledge and wanting shared between them.

It is near unbearable, the press of her chest against her heart, the yearning, the uncertainty, but she has a plan (of admittedly debatable quality) ready to enact, so she is sharing tea with her god and summoning what remains of her courage.

“I have a question. A hypothetical one.”

“Mmmh? Well, I will do my best to provide an answer, whatever form the question may take.”

“This is all hypothetical, You understand, but. Do You believe an Elda can love two others? Not as friends, or family, but as spouses- both equal?”

“That doesn’t sound terribly hypothetical. Do you have something you need to tell Finwë?” Vairë’s ears twitch in amusement as She responds. Míriel frowns.

“I’m serious, is it-” There are a dozen ways she could finish that sentence. Is it possible? Is it understandable? Is it Marred? She can’t get any of them past her throat. Vairë looks up from Her work, Her face stilling in thought as Her stitches begin to speed up, the scene She’s embroidering taking shape at a rapid pace.

“It was not I who composed the Song, nor I who Wove It out of tune. I can speak for no other power than myself,” She warns.

“I do not care. I asked not for the wisdom of the Elder King, but the opinion of my Lady.”

“Then I will give it to you. I have not seen or heard of such a thing, but I have not seen or heard of many things. In truth, even that which I have Woven sometimes escapes my sight. If it is true love, unselfish and steadfast, and there is honesty between all, then I see no reason why it would be wrong in the eyes of The One. And I have heard you speak of her, of both of them. It is Indis, isn’t it?”

Míriel drops all pretense, flimsy as it was, as she nods. She sinks back into her seat, quivering in relief and blinking back the tears that have welled up.

“Vairë, her smile is like starlight. She laughs like a raven croaks, and it’s horrible and wonderful and I am irrevocably in love,” Míriel says, desperately, “She’s decided to find a Craft as the Noldor do- she said she knows how important they are to us as a people and as her friends, and that she’d enjoy being taught by us. So she tried ours first, and she was terrible at them. She doesn’t have the patience for weaving or embroidery and she hates the feeling of wet clay. But she tried them, tried our Crafts,” Vairë seems suitably impressed by this, though of course she would understand the importance of the gesture, given that she has a Craft of her own, so Míriel continues,

“And she decided to try dancing- proper dancing, not those slow formal dances that are designed so that no one embarrasses themselves- and I’ve watched her and she’s spectacular at it. She was already strong, but she moved my lounge without even straining when I mentioned I’d considered repositioning it, and I swear I nearly spontaneously combusted on the spot. Everything she does she gives nothing less than her best, and she shines with it, all her passion and joy for life. I love her. She loves me- I think- as well. And- and Finwë sees it too. I’d wed them both, if I could. I want to, so badly , but he is a King and she is a princess and I am the greatest broideress among the Eldar, and even if we were not the only ones to feel this way- to love more than one other- none of us can afford the scandal.” The words flow from her like silk slipping through her hands, a helpless confession that she hasn’t dared fully voice even to her husband-to-be.

Vairë had stood at some point during her rambling, and now moves forward to pry her mostly-empty cup from trembling hands before leaning down to tuck Míriel under Her chin, holding her close. She smells like dyes and dust and old, old paper.

“Perhaps you cannot wed both of them in the eyes of your laws, but the laws of the Eldar are themselves subject to decrees from the Highest Power. I see no reason why you cannot tie yourselves together in other ways.”

She pulls back to untie two velvety-smooth ribbons from Her hair- and there is no way She simply happened to have those pre-made so perfectly fitting. One is light blue with silver-gold starbursts delicately edged in black- Finwë’s colors and sign. The other is very carefully not quite Indis’- it’s Laurelin-gold with clouds in a gradient from white-gold to deepest bronze, done in the Vanyarin style. She almost wants to cry, and she can’t decide if it’s from the kindness of the gesture or from how unbelievably unsubtle it is.

“I am ever Weaving,” Her god says with a serene smile at Míriel’s incredulous look, holding them out from her long fingers.

“I cannot simply wear these, I may as well scream my desires from the height of Mindon Eldaliéva!”

“You do not have to. But I ask you to keep them nonetheless. As a reminder, if you will.”

“Of course I will,” She scoffs, taking them both and quickly tying them around her hair, one on top of the other, her braids streaming down from them. She shouldn’t wear them publicly, but she can wear them now.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Vairë has perhaps been a bit cruel, forcibly taking Míriel away from her frantic rush of final-but-not-quite-last-minute planning. In Her defense, it will not be going anywhere, and Míriel had clearly needed it- only giving token protests before succumbing to tea and a picnic. The wedding is still on her mind, and thus on her tongue for discussion, but Vairë’s questions are not ones of colors and arrangements and guests and always more decisions, but of culture. She is the Historian, She cannot help it.

“Will anyone be standing for you?” She asks, ever interested in how customs must be shaped and rearranged to suit Her Jewel and her partners, even if only two will be presented to the people as husband and wife. Wedding traditions have been changing and solidifying since the Great Journey, but this is one that has lasted. It's a demonstration of acceptance by the families for the joining of their houses, typically performed by parents, but neither Finwë nor Míriel have any living family on this side of the sea.

“Ingwë will be standing for Finwë, since they are Lelya-Hánor, and Indis will be standing for me. The excuse will be that she is kin to Ingwë and also my-” she clears her throat “-close friend, so,” Míriel hesitates here, apparently preparing to ask a question of her own.

“I wondered… I know that several of the Valar will be there, and Finwë said that Ingwë had asked Manwë to preside, so I wanted to ask if, as my Lady, You would as well?”

Vairë grins, flicking Her ears forward in delight.

“Mírënya! I thought you would never ask! I will, and with gladness. In fact, this gives me an excellent excuse- since you have given me such a gift, I can give you mine in return.” Míriel rolls her eyes, laughing.

“If you give me yet more ribbons I may consider forswearing you,” She jokes, “I’m amassing quite the collection as it is. That may just be the last straw.”

“My gift is not ribbons, I promise. In fact, while I’m given to understand that traditionally wedding gifts are given during the feast, I believe Mine would be of more use beforehand,” She says, chuckling at the sudden concerned frown Míriel gives Her. The stress of planning seems to have been getting to her, for her mind to jump so quickly to ill thoughts. “So little faith! It’s nothing bad, I assure you,” She says, not even bothering to disguise it as She pulls Her gifts out of the air.

Wedding robes vary in style among the kindreds of the Eldar, but the premise remains the same. The outer robe is colorful, with the signs and symbols of the wearer’s house worked into it and, for the Noldor, as much ornamentation as can possibly fit. If possible, a portion of the other’s Craft is worked into the fabric. The rest of the layers are undyed or bleached white, with dark borders embroidered with stars and occasionally depictions of the Trees. The level of ostentatiousness in the garments varies, but for the Noldor if suppressed it always returns in jeweled shawls and drapings frequently woven of metal. Vairë has taken all this, and improved upon it. Aulë owed her a favor anyway.

“So this is why You asked for some of our work,” Míriel says, numb with shock as she runs her fingers lightly over the three bundles of cloth. She takes them as if they were made of spun sugar rather than the Weaver’s finest work, and lays them delicately out on the blanket.

Míriel’s outer robe features her crimson-laden evergreens and silver filigree, imbedded with precious jewels growing around sculpted porcelain cabochons. Finwë’s looks like it’s been woven from a mirror of sky, dark to light, his stars mingling with woven light of the Trees, and with panel after panel of his fiancé's embroidery, covered in a gem-studded lace of metalwork. Both feature triptychs of figures, mostly dancing.

The robes for Indis are not wedding robes. Not quite. They’re a light ivory that will still fit in among the guests, with a border of deep blue patterned with the Two Trees’ leaves- a perfectly Vanyarin design. That they’re similar in style to Vanayrin wedding robes is a mere coincidence, surely. The outer robe features her colors and signs- but given her status, it’s nothing much to remark on. The embroidered ribbons and bright ceramic beads that form a fringe and shawl-like lattice across her shoulders won’t even be noticeable among the glitter of Noldorin jewelry. All in all it’s a perfectly inconspicuous assembly, unless you know what to look for.

“I cannot- this is just… You never do anything by halves, do you?” She finally settles on, and Vairë simply smiles.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Míriel rubs idly at her swelling stomach, lips lightly pursed, pondering dark thoughts. Vairë sees it, of course, and doesn’t let her get away with it.

“You seem troubled. Is something wrong?” She asks, head and ears tilting.

“It is nothing. I am only thinking. What if something goes wrong? If I am… indisposed. Wounded, somehow. I’ve heard that births are taxing, and I am very tired already.”

“That is what Lórien is for. I have full confidence in My Brother and His Wife. Mírënya, tell me truly, are you well?”

“I am fine, my Lady, only anxious, as I am told all mothers are.” She is not. She feels like she can’t breathe. Like something is crushing her chest, cracking her heart and taking her hope. She was told that being tired is normal too, that she needs her rest. Míriel doubts that this is what they meant, a soul-sucking apathy wrapped between her ribs and weighing down her every step. It’s so hard to care, so hard to even rise from her bed or to her feet.

“Well… even should the worst happen, Finwë and Indis will take care of the babe while you recover. And if it is worse even than that... My halls are linked with My Husband’s. I will be with you whenever you need Me. I insisted, you know. Not for nothing is He called Grim, but He is not heartless.”

Míriel smiles, and it reaches her eyes, but not her heart.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Fear does not come naturally to Vairë, nor any of Her kin. Nienna grieves and Tulkas laughs and Oromë rages, but She is helpless in the face of Doom and She is shaking with it. Her endless arms and endless looms Weave the Past: an unending stream of cloth fed by Her Husband’s threads of the Future, She is the Historian and glad of it. But She was made to witness and record, not to participate. Perhaps She has spent too much time among the Eldar, too much time alongside Her only Incarnate Disciple, too much time learning and living and loving in ways She was never created for. She doesn’t regret it, but oh She half-wishes She could- could write it all off as a mistake, a moment in time that need never be returned to again. But She can’t.

She was warned. She has never had trouble understanding Námo regardless of the ways He cloaks His words, but She chose Their paths as He foretold, and now the way forward is unfolding.

Their Kind were not made for change. They Sang Their Songs, and played Their parts, and were not creatures of Arda Marred, though they belong to it now nonetheless. Vairë has never mourned before, but as illogical as it is, She finds Herself beginning to. Míriel will be safe, if not happy, and Vairë will be there, and Námo was created for this, and none of it helps. Her Jewel grows duller by the day, putting on a thousand layers of masks for the court and her people and her beloveds, but even when they slip or shatter there is still hope that they hold on to, the promise of perfection that Valinórë offered. But both of them know better, and Míriel has never hidden from her Lady.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I’m not going to survive this, am I?” She asks, her hair hanging limp and dull white, her face drained of what little color it had to begin with. When last she looked in a mirror she nearly vomited, her eyes seemed empty of anything but the Tree-light that shines and shines and mocks the spark of life with its bitter parody. She looks like a creature out of the dark of Cuiviénen, a corpse still living. And she is so tired of hiding it all, gathering the tattered remains of her hope and holding them together, pretending at a patchwork quilt.

Her god closes Her eyes and doesn’t speak, but that’s enough of a response for Míriel.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“What will you call him?” Vairë asks, quietly reverential of the baby that She holds, but grieving that it’s a question that must be asked so early. No one else has realized it yet- but then again, no one else is a Vala so close to Míriel’s heart. She has learned another emotion as Her Jewel fought tooth and nail against whatever was sapping her of life, regardless of whether she realized her ferocity. Vairë is bitter. Bitter that She cannot help, that no one has noticed the truth of the matter: that this is a losing battle.

“Fëanáro. Spirit of Fire,” Míriel says, strained and drained and, as much as Vairë hates to think it, diminished. Her child, it seems, has taken her spirit in exchange for his life. “He’ll need it, won’t he?”

She sucks in a breath She doesn’t need through Her teeth. Being married to the Doomsman of the Valar has its perks, but more than a few pitfalls in turn. Námo has done His best to keep His foresight away from Her and Her Domain, but a few things have slipped through. She sees light in darkness, and tempered steel, and thrice-burnt swans, and fire ringing fire ringing fire, and She looks down at the new-born in Her arms who is squirming and lively even in sleep, and back up at his mother who is lying listless in bed with her eyes too dull even with Tree-light within them. She thinks of Her Husband’s words, so long ago as the Eldar count it.

“Yes.”

#finweanladiesweek #tolkien #silmarillion #my writing #miriel #vaire #finwe #indis #finwe/indis/miriel

17 notes · View notes

redstaratmorning · 4 years

Text

Headcanons and Musings of Pirate-y And Plunderous Proportions: Astarion Says What

Synopsis: Random musings and ramblings regarding and spawning from the differences between how Astarion says just one word, depending on your choices—“What?” This got very long and touches not only on Astarion’s difference in presentation in aforementioned moment, but also some discussion-thoughts to chuck onto the dashboard regarding some other elements of Astarion’s content thus far in Early Access, and some thoughts to add onto others’ speculations and wonderings (I did not save sources so pardon the lack of proper citation, oops. We’re going informal here anyway.) Spoilers for Chapter 1 BG3 scenes, plot, etc, under the cut in case someone hasn’t filtered out the tags. Trigger warning/content warning: some discussion of heavy topics is mentioned and explored, including starvation, abuse/torture, and trauma. Other topics of note for summarization include speculation on Astarion’s largely unknown as-of-early-access background and a touch of his possible pre-vampire morality leanings, possible mental state/trauma reaction in a couple of scenes, and vague speculation on Larian’s gameplan for Astarion’s arc ending. Gather thy party and venture forward, for here be dragons and lots o’ text, matey! [/stereotypical pirate accent]

“What?” Just that one word, between the goblin party and the tiefling party. If Larian keeps the body language and tone presentation more or less where it’s at now in Early Access, they are worlds apart and delightfully up for interpretation of just what’s going on in our favorite vampire spawn’s head. This won’t be an in-depth post about all the tonal and body language differences, just picking out a few due to personal constraints (ie too broke to buy this game currently.) Edit: And also a lot of other thoughts and ramblings tacked on, lol. On the one hand we have him at the goblin party, where he seems much more superficially comfortable there, knows what’s going on and knows what to expect—it feels like he’s done this kind of scene a hundred times before. The comfort of familiarity. Did Cazador throw “parties”, much like how he “invited” Astarion to dine with him? I wouldn’t be surprised if he mingled at regular dinner parties either before his turning, or perhaps after when he’s ordered to hunt for Cazador’s evening repast. I doubt the goblin party has anything as potentially horrific as what Cazador would have lined up on the nightly basis, which is why Astarion isn’t aggro’d: he’s in a position of power at this party after all, not a powerless one. A conquering hero, as he describes the MC. A Precarious position, as it turns out.

Circling back to that one word though, the way he says “what” in that scene after he propositions the MC and the MC picks the “Maybe. If you say please” line feels like Astarion’s response could be interpreted as pretty abrupt. On guard, perhaps, squaring up, offended, even perhaps lowkey challenging/hostile. Expressing social displeasure and possibly staring down the MC mayhaps? Could be, especially if Astarion’s body language remains as it is rigged now in-scene with that step forward, his shoulders shifting, the lack of a smile, that assessing glare, all combined with that flat tone of voice. The animation could just be temporary and subject to change, but if it does end up as more or less the final version of that moment’s depiction, it’s pretty interesting as a shift. I’d read it as potentially “not actually truly comfortable in this situation, just familiar and numb to it all”, especially when combined with some of his other earlier potential lines at the goblin party, such as the following: Astarion: So, what are we drinking to? Other than a pile of corpses. MC: That’s not funny. Astarion: Oh don’t be so sour - It’s a party. You did what you had to. Don’t be ashamed that you did it well. MC: I wish things had turned out differently. Astarion: And I wish I was drinking out of the skulls of everyone who’s ever wronged me. Life is tough. Although that’s not to say we can’t have a little fun. This supports the whole “has been through his personal hell and has adapted to survive it albeit not unscathed” story Larian seems to be going for with him quite nicely in the little tells and details. A sort of “take what joy you can even amidst the dark situation surrounding us” trauma-induced adaptation, coupled together with actual enjoyment on his part for killing. It’d be easy to say Astarion is moreso in his element at the goblin party, and to a degree he is—it’s one he is well practiced with in his current mindset. Compare now how he acts at the tiefling party—we can all agree he’s not having a good time, our friendly neighborhood vampire sulking in particular over the fact that “there’s a worm in [his] brain, [he’s] surrounded by idiots, and all [he] has to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar.” But the delightful thing is he’s complaining so vividly about it. The wine likely is worse at the tiefling party, seeing as they’re refugees, and the goblins had previously captured a duke whom they likely stole loot from and under orders from Minthara et al stored said goods elsewhere for a later date (likely some of said goods were consumed at the party if it happened. Edit: Shadowheart’s drunk dialogue at the goblin party mentions the goblin’s wine there being good, poor dear. Fascinating hints at her story and character in that scene though.) This is assuming Astarion is drinking wine at the goblin party, of course. He may very well be drinking something red and full-bodied there, just not made from grapes. But even in his complaints and presentation, he seems arguably more relaxed and less on guard compared to his demeanor at the goblin party. Let’s be honest, he doesn’t view goblins as equals or stimulating company judging by his various voice lines expressing his disdain, distrust and overall low opinion of them as vermin among other things. The fact that he’s willing to call the tiefling refugees idiots while in earshot of them? Definitely doesn’t respect them as a group—though he has a less negatively opined line regarding them earlier on if the caged goblin (Sazza) is killed,—which is not surprising given that MC and company at the time of the party just saved them from certain death. Astarion’s reaction however also reads as potentially at ease enough to say what he’s thinking. He’s not going to get murdered for saying so, and there aren’t any punishing power games at play with the refugees and do-gooders he’s found himself surrounded by. There aren’t any hedonistic shenanigans going on and the drinks are terrible, so it’s not an entertaining party for him, but one could make an argument that Astarion might actually be feeling more secure or at least less threatened-as-is/was-his-accepted-ongoing-norm there. Which might mean he’s feeling quite out of place, or even just not...entirely engaged with what’s going on around him and even within him as far as emotional states go. Would he casually pull the same stunt at the goblin party? If you’re a bastard to him, yes, but that’s not in the same emotional vein as his dialogue during the tiefling party at all. Loyalty from the goblins is fickle, the goblins worship the Absolute and those that are chosen by the Absolute—so long as said Chosen remain powerful enough to subjugate them and is in favor. Astarion knows this kind of power structure well: ruling by fear and power. With the tieflings? It’s not superiors-and-subordinates, it’s just...people. People celebrating surviving an event that could’ve very well and most likely would’ve ended in their deaths. Will he get to celebrate like that one day? That could very well be a painful and bleak thing to consider, and not something he wants to contemplate as of yet, based on his dialogue lines that demonstrate his fear of Cazador. How’s he supposed to get lost in the fun and revelry if the wine doesn’t even taste good to him? I don’t know wines, but I’m guessing from what little I do know and what I’ve read of flavor descriptors for wines hyped as good, it might actually be bad wine based on the adjective “sharp” when mixed with the rest of the description if the MC takes a sip. Sharp seems to suggest too many tannins, or maybe improper storage so the wine actually did turn to taste a bit more like vinegar, or maybe not enough sugar in the grapes used, perhaps? To be fair, I do believe there’s a non-conversation line somewhere of Astarion’s regarding solid food tasting terrible to him, but I can’t verify that so a pinch of salt there. Still, if his taste buds are aligned with regular living mortal ones for wine at least, RIP Astarion, he’s stuck with a terrible drink for the foreseeable night. Unless, of course, you know. ;D Compared to the tieflings, the goblins as a whole? As a group they’re a scraped together army of pillagers hungry for destruction and spoils. They don’t have ANY loyalty to you—in addition to being willing to betray you via murder immediately despite working with them when Sazza first brings you back to meet Minthara, there’s also when Minthara potentially opts to try to kill you post-goblin-party. If you persuade her not to, Minthara does mention “do not return to the goblin camp, as far as they were concerned you were destined to die tonight.” This is not a group to get chummy with, obviously. Doesn’t say good things about the Absolute’s followers in general, either, or the Absolute depending on if Minthara’s being honest about the Absolute intending that the MC dies after razing the grove. Minthara could just be lying to serve her own ends and is out to destroy any rivals for the Absolute’s favor, after all, I can’t verify that from dialogue exploration at present. So it’s not surprising that this is not a group Astarion is going to let his guard down around I’m sure, or around an MC that sided with the goblins, because fortunes can shift like the wind in a scene like that, and I think his utter lack of surprise at Minthara trying to kill you all (whether or not the MC had a romp with her) is potentially spawned because he recognizes this fact. He’s been here before, in another time, another place, with different faces, but he’s seen this play before. And the MC is just another face for the same old role of a player in this rat race for power when they side with the goblins, aren’t they? The difference this time though is: will they succeed and make it to the top? Is Astarion betting on the winning horse, or not? Far less reason and far more motivation to not be emotionally invested in anyone or anything around him because it’s survival of the fittest, and the most ruthless will be the ones who win—the MC just reinforced that perspective for Astarion, in slaughtering the tieflings. But Astarion isn’t fully corrupted yet, despite however much Cazador has twisted and tormented him so. Isn’t it fascinating, that the MC, one of the first people Astarion can actually interact with relatively freely without Cazador’s puppeteering influence hanging over him quite so acutely, is someone who might very well and very likely will have a huge impact on how Astarion develops and sees the world? For better or for worse, the MC will shape all the companions’ futures and perspectives it seems, depending on their choices. On a meta note, isn’t that thrillingly fascinating and engaging work by Larian Studios? Bravo, honestly. Continuing, for Astarion this could very well just feel like a better but complimentary and thematically continuous segment of the nightmare that is his existence under Cazador as it goes on: he’s a vampire now, and the world is only ever a power struggle between the strong and the weak, and he knows better than to ever be weak again. Kindness and virtue belonged to Before. Before he died, before he turned, before he was taken. Those are things in stories and fairy tales now, that belong to other people, other places and times, other lives—things that belong to the living, not the undead. Sentimentality, more universally-accepted morality, all of those Good™-aligned or softer feelings can feel like they have no place in his world now, on this darker path. But he knows what they are, not just in theory I think, but also perhaps knowing from memory and experience, however distant and faint. The way he speaks on many occasions has subtext that could very well suggest he wasn’t without a better side through implication and emotion. Which is not to say I think he was a shining paragon of virtue before he died—guessing based off of the dev team’s writing of him so far, I’m expecting nuanced and complex but ultimately very human (or elf if you’re being fantasy-based technical) morality with both merits and flaws, for polarizing opinions in the fandom. That being said, I’m holding off judgment on what kind of person he was before he was turned for now despite reading about pre-early-access, preliminary ideas the dev team had for his background. The reason I’m waiting to see what the dev team puts into the game for his backstory of Before, is because some of his datamined lines could be taken in a couple of different ways, and some of his emotional responses as is currently don’t track as truly Machiavellian or I’d say malevolent in nature for manipulation or otherwise. Granted, not all Evil™ acts stem from intentions to be malevolent. Sometimes people do evil both in-game and in life without really intending to, or recognizing that they do, nor seeing the harm they have caused or will cause (I’m looking at you, Mayrina.) Manipulative yes, but so far it’s looked like it’s for defensive purposes in a world that is out to hurt or kill him if given any opportunity whatsoever. Personally I actually wouldn’t even say he’s been really manipulative at all, but your mileage may vary. He lies because he’s afraid you’re going to murder him for being a vampire, and because he doesn’t want to reveal the cause of two centuries’ worth of trauma to someone he just met and likely can’t predict if they’re emotionally safe for him to interact with. Note: “emotionally safe” does not necessarily denote being sympathetic here, so much as “will their response cause me pain in some fashion?” from Astarion’s point of view, which does not necessarily require the MC to be mean to him though obviously that wouldn’t help. We touch upon why sympathy can hurt later on in this essay. And why would he expect sympathy in the other instance, regarding revealing that he’s a vampire? How often would we not murder strange vampires we just met in DND-worlds? Is that not a common response and practice in Faerun for the most part? They’re on the list of acceptable prey for a monster hunter to be kidnapped and taken to who knows what fate (probably nothing good we’re sure), and who would come rescue them? In all actuality: No one. If he wasn’t a companion he’d easily just be one more random encounter to kill—as he and all the companions are in the right circumstances, *cough cough* like when sacrificing anyone to Boooal *cough.* Astarion’s had little cracked moments where he seems to be showing genuine vulnerability, and I’d say he likely displays real genuine emotion plenty of times, just not all the time. While the vulnerable moments could be a ploy, were he the type to actually be fully acting, I’m disinclined to bet that he’d act in the way he does during those moments if he planned them out or even improvised. It could be a mix of both, where it’s both true but also an act of manipulation. Were it the last option, that would require more exploration of his character in various situations to determine imo. I still doubt that though. I think he’s a little too raw and real in his pain, anger, and aggression to say he’s being malevolently manipulative at the end of the day, at least thus far in chapter one. The MC’s choices may change and influence that, on the Evil™ route. I’ve been following some of the fantastic dash discussions on Astarion’s reaction to when the MC tries to comfort him (because of course I have, I’m here for BG3 content and Astarion content especially, aren’t we all here for the same party in his tag? Also hello fellow Astarion stans! :D I hope everyone’s having a good day), and if some of these datamined lines from Pjenn’s blog post are actually implemented and kept as canonical [link], specifically the ones Astarion says regarding heroes, I do think it ties in very strongly with some of what other folks have said regarding his recoiling reaction. Copy-pasted the potential dialogue lines of interest below: Astarion: Heroes. |said with disgust| Astarion: Heroes had two centuries to save me from my torture, but not one came knocking. Astarion: The strong had two centuries to pluck me from torture, but no one came. No, it was the mind flayers that rescued me. Astarion: I spent centuries as the victim of a corrupt man. It was the mind flayers that plucked me away from that. I very much enjoyed all the takes on Astarion’s potential motivations in his response, and I do want to chuck another idea into the fray that supports the vein of ideas that have him being truly afraid and then angry at the MC in that scene, with the speculation including those possible hero lines above as influence. Specifically, I’d like to bring in an outside comparison to part of Molly Grue’s reaction to seeing the Unicorn from The Last Unicorn animated movie for the first time, transcribed below: The Unicorn: I’m here now. Molly: [Bitter laugh] Oh? And where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent, young maidens you always come to? How dare you. How DARE you come to me now, when I am this. [begins to cry, heartbroken] Consider Astarion being shown kindness when he is now away from Cazador, not fully free or safe yet but not currently actively fully suffering Cazador’s torment all up close and personal. Consider that only on that very night before he was snatched up by the mindflayers, which might’ve been anywhere from only a day to a handful of days before this conversation about his nightmare, he was going out to falsely smile and lure some innocent—(“No innocents. You have my word.”)—or perhaps not so innocent, beautiful soul back to Cazador’s mansion to very likely die or be turned. How often must he do so? Is it every night he is ordered to go out and condemn someone else to that unfortunate fate? Do you think Cazador killed them cleanly? Quickly? Why would he, instead of agonizingly grinding out any last traces of sympathy his spawn might have through the guilt that they are the ones who “choose” who suffers and likely dies at Cazador’s hands that night? To give the illusion of choice is one abuse/torture tactic that can be used to break a soul that we see often in games: choose who suffers or dies. Cazador is unquestionably a personality who enjoys the psychological aspect of tormenting his victims, as evidenced by giving Astarion the “choice” to be either flayed or to “dine” on a rotting, dead rat, as well as other mentions of how he puts thought into torturing those around him. Astarion is still so fresh from his torment,—torment that is still technically on-going with the very real threats of resuming once more—he is emotionally bleeding enough arterial blood at the seams to fill a sea. His actions, words, and emotions so often metaphorically smell of blood, and not because he’s a vampire and the traditional role of a vampire being a predator among humanoids ironically enough, but because being a vampire spawn means Cazador. And Cazador means horror. Astarion has survived, yes, and it’s been hell. He’s still in hell, because he isn’t free yet. Not truly. It’s a desperate gasp of air, this taste of freedom, to dream that he could be free of Cazador. Imagine his feelings when he’s now in something like freedom, a reminder of what could be, what his life might’ve and likely was like once upon a time, an uncertain here-and-now where he has the possibility—just a possibility, and an unlikely one at that for most ordinary or less-than-ordinary people, not a certainty—of being free, and he’s just admitted to the horror that is Cazador. Admitted in this moment how much Cazador frightens him, how much just the thought of Cazador frightens him, how much the possibility he might be sent back to his master and having his previous tormented existence resumed truly frightens him. And the MC reaches out in sympathy. In acknowledgement that what Astarion has been through is horrifying. To look at this horror and say it is pain, and terror, and awful, that it isn’t normal. It isn’t something to ignore. It isn’t something to pretend is just everyday same old, same old, to numb and take off the edge as much as one can. That Astarion’s pain and fear aren’t to be sought out for entertainment or at best to be willfully neglected in an act of malice. That stark moment of contrast, like night and day, could bring the pain of two hundred years crashing down inside his head, all compressed into one moment. Feelings he tried so hard to survive through, ignore perhaps, suppress: fear, helplessness, loneliness, misery, anger, sorrow, hatred, pain, anxiety, distress, need. Memories, of so many instances that hurt in that moment and then continued to hurt for so long afterwards. How much must it hurt him, wound him, to lift his head for air and have a perspective outside of his suffering that is sympathetic...but knowing that nobody came to save him. That perhaps, no one ever will, if he loses this so-called freedom and is dragged back under. That those that care, cannot help you. And that those that can help, do not care. Why would anyone help him at this point after all? He’s a vampire spawn. A classically defined monster in the eyes of society, and he knows it. (”I’m not some monster!” / ”At best, I was sure you’d say no. More likely you’d ram a stake through my ribs.”) He must have been truly desperate in his starvation to chance anyone finding out he’s a vampire in the party. Not surprising, he can’t rest at the end of the day like the other companions can. He has to expend extra energy at that point to find food discreetly after fighting all day, and subpar food at that. (”Animal blood tastes like muck.” verification needed, it’s a conversational line in some branch of the morning-after he asks to bite the MC the first time) He’s not eating breakfast, snacks or lunch during the day, and he isn’t guaranteed to find food while hunting in the woods. Game might be scarce, he can be wounded or exhausted after a long day of fighting, and he wasn’t starting out in the peak of health to begin with either. He is a vampire spawn yes and apparently can take down large game such as boars to drain them, but that is a rough existence to condemn anyone to mechanically speaking. He knows what he’s risking, regardless of his int stat. But he takes that risk anyway. The character who is so survival driven, risking a very high likelihood of expulsion at best or death as the much-more-likely worst outcome of this attempt? His bite isn’t painless, and pain can wake a person up readily enough if they aren’t a deep sleeper, and how deep a sleeper are most people when in an uncertain and unfamiliar wilderness, potentially while hungry and cold, with the fretting fear of a agonizing death looming over their head? Even accounting for a lack of mental clarity from hunger and exhaustion and other factors, I find it deeply unlikely that Astarion is unaware of how big a risk he’s taking with the odds are stacked against him, rogue class or not. And even if he’s just thrown out of the group? He’s alone. Vulnerable. A target to be hunted by a much bigger, meaner predator. One that won’t kill him quickly, we can guess. His odds are much lower, on his own. Specifically his odds of not being dragged back to Cazador...assuming the MC doesn’t just turn him over to Gandrel. How terrifying is it to imagine that your suffering will never end, to be told it will never end, and then you are reminded of what it is like to not suffer for a time. To have felt the painful hope that maybe there is a possibility that you could escape an existence of torment...but knowing you very well might not? It is desperately bleak. It is no great leap of the imagination to hear Astarion saying—(or more likely thinking because this would be terribly vulnerable...but he might say something when pushed because he’s so full of sharp edges and bleeding insides still)—something similar to Molly Grue’s line in his own fashion, is it? Astarion: “[Bitterly laughing, mockingly so. As he speaks his tone breaks, an edge of raw, desperate hysteria slipping through, attached to centuries of pain turned to anger] And where were you two hundred years ago? A hundred years ago? Where were you when I still desperately thought in the deepest parts of my heart that someone might come? When I still had hope? Astarion: [his voice turns low and venomous, raising in volume and accusation before finishing with a break on the final word “this”, a tonal admittance of how distraught and self-aware he is of what he’s had to do, of what he’s had to become to survive] How dare you. How DARE you say this to me now, when I am this.” (the above lines are entirely fictional and are not from any in-game, data-mined, or otherwise official source or content) He’s been made to do so many terrible things, even just based off of the few lines we have heard in early access he’s been through so much horror. An hour of torture, a day, a month is so incredibly long. It can have such lasting impact on a person—PTSD, as we know it in this day and age. A year? Five years, ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred? An elf he may be, but from a human perspective...he’s been tortured for lifetimes. Even as an elf, two hundred years is a long time. More than long enough to seriously alter how someone’s brain works—people are both amazingly resilient, but also so incredibly fragile. Cazador has had all this time to play with Astarion’s brain, honestly I find it impressive Astarion has any sense of self left after all this time. That he’s still driven to survive, that he still feels anything at all. (”It doesn’t look broken. But then again, none of us do.”) It doesn’t surprise me that he’s intensely bitter when encountering the “paladins” of Tyr—(ie Anders and company if you know who I mean—and was that a Dragon Age 2 reference? If not that is an amazing coincidence with the whole Anders-Justice-Vengeance-Demon thing there)—if the MC asks something to the tune of “Don’t you wish someone had helped you when you needed it?” Oh. Oh that had to be a painful question for him. Astarion had his basic needs denied and abused, to ask if he wished that someone had helped him when he needed that and more, and no one came? Why was he denied but the paladins get help? Why does he have to be the hero when no one came for him, when no one very well might come for him when he might still very well be in dire straits in the near future? I can see the possible desire to inspire sympathy intended in the question from the MC, but it can be so utterly without sympathy to ask that in some contexts, and in Astarion’s case it is. He was being abused and controlled without any way out—Anders and his cohorts opted into the deal with Zariel for personal reasons, not as far as I know under threat of imminent death, and they are relatively capable of fulfilling their end of the bargain barring their current injuries at the time. They certainly have more freedom of choice than Astarion and other vampire spawn ever did, and they were not being tortured right then and there. Warlocks, referring to Anders and co., might even have the option to get out of deals, a la Wyll’s personal questline hook thus far. Astarion can’t get out of his servitude from Cazador. Cazador holds all the cards, makes all the decisions, has all of the power. To compare Astarion’s situation to his face with that of the “paladins”? I’m surprised he wasn’t spitting fury, honestly. They still have normal elements to their day to day life, despite their devil’s deal. They are not being tormented on the daily—yet. They are not in hell—yet. They can get out. They have the possibility. A possibility Astarion didn’t—until now. And isn’t that the most fucked up thing, that it wasn’t a force of Good™ that saved him, but an even bigger monster than Cazador himself? He was saved—by mindflayers, intending some fate that was likely worse for him than before. Even when the Absolute’s hand begins to be revealed in all this, he is still a pawn among monstrous masters. What heroes there are in the world, won’t come for him. They never did before, and they didn’t now. Heroes are for other people, for realities aside from his own. They are for other people, living Other lives. Not his life. Forces of Good™ swooping in to save the day, to correct the wrongs of the world and to make things Right™ just isn’t his normal. Not anymore, if ever it was. His normal was warped by Cazador a long time ago. Is it a stretch of the imagination that if Cazador twisted “dinner” to be a choice between consuming a rotting, putrid rat corpse or being flayed on a nightly basis, turning “poetry” into the memory of a “sonnet” carved into Astarion’s back with a razor over the course of an entire night full of Astarion’s own pained screams? Is it hard to imagine that Cazador also took pleasure in turning other ordinary situations one might encounter in normal life into nightmare versions as well for Astarion and his other spawn? One illithid mind-power option shows Cazador controlling Astarion by holding his chin, though without any further context. Cazador wouldn’t have had to do more than that to invoke terror, after a certain point in time. It seems highly unlikely the gesture wasn’t followed up with more pain, though. Perhaps in that moment when he speaks of his nightmare in the first conversation and the MC reaches out to him in sympathy...Astarion was reminded of something. Multiple somethings, multiple moments, when Cazador reached out to him oh so casually, and it ended in pain and terror. The way the camera is framed as of the current time in early access, the way he flinches away crying “No!” so quiet and low, his eyes wide and staring just so, how he goes so far as to pull back almost entirely out of frame and the camera slowly pans to follow him? Perhaps that is just a stand-in scene, but as it is, even now, it emphasizes that he is I would argue genuinely afraid, and reflexively responding in what is likely his first opportunity to freely respond to his traumatically induced fear. The first opportunity where he wasn’t supernaturally compelled to do exactly as Cazador ordered him to, the first opportunity where he was likely not going to be tormented further for expressing his fear, for having his main tormentor laugh and delight in his distress. The first instance where he for a split second let his guard down, and didn’t expect to be hurt—until the MC reached for him, echoing possible memories of what happened last time someone (Cazador) did that. It’s not Cazador reaching for him. But...it is not Cazador. He doesn’t have to worry about Cazador hurting him right that second, but...will the MC hurt him, like Cazador did? Will they make it look like they’re going to help him, that he can trust them, and then betray him? (”How can you be so cruel?” / “It [Raphael playing games] reminds me of Cazador, taunting his slaves with hope when he knew the game was rigged.”) But they scared him. They scared him, and perhaps for a moment he was back there, in another time and place, where he knows, where he remembers, vividly, perhaps even recently, what normally would have happened to him. And how dare they make him feel that. (“I can do without reliving that particular night, thank you.” [Nightmare about Cazador dialogue, a separate scene if you miss the insight check from the first post-nightmare camp discussion I believe.]) He’s so raw and upset, both aggressive and defensive when he speaks about his nightmares in quite a few of his lines, asking and waiting to explain just why his nightmares are truly so terrifying, especially in the second-nightmare conversation. The way he speaks there, and in other scenes, makes me very disinclined to interpret him as actively intending evil in general so much as having been shaped to be ruthless through a centuries-long trial by fire that he isn’t free and clear of yet. Based off of how he reacts on more than one occasion, I’m personally inclined to take a leaf from Wyll’s book and say I do think he has more than just potential to be good. “Good™” being relative of course to his situation and undead-life—Astarion has GREAT potential as a character to explore not only what it means to be Evil™ aligned, but also what people on the meta perceive as evil, as well as what prejudices we may carry from that labeling. He is I think very much an excellent walking morality test and ironically a mirror for the player’s character. What kind of person is the MC, in how they treat and interact with him. He is a complicated and morally-entangled character, and it is so very easy to only read him in the here and now within the stark, daylight context of societal’s average norms without looking at the very real, very recent nightmarish Twilight Zone reality he’s lived in that echoes through his words and story thus far. It’s a marvelous bit of echoing reality and real life here by Larian, truth be told: how do you tell people about your life, when it’s been a ceaseless, unending nightmare? With smiles, witticisms, and the occasional polished lie that bleeds out pain, for some folks anyway, including Astarion. He says he’s having more fun at the goblin party, but at the tiefling party? That’s probably the first time he’s been at a normal party where he hasn’t had to obey and fear Cazador’s orders and inevitable torment during or afterwards. That’s the first time in his entire undead existence when he’s been in a social situation like this without being afraid, hurt, or manipulated. It’s not a fun party on its own by his standards, but it is a safe party for him. In a way though, safety can be boring. A luxury, yes, but in this case? For him, boring. And boring...might very well be irritating, in an anxiety-turned-irritation fashion, because he’s not being tormented right this very moment. He should be finding something to enjoy, because in his normal everyday routine? In the day to day that he would expect, that his subconscious expects out of habit? Opportunity for any form of enjoyment must be rare indeed, twisted and tainted by Cazador’s ever looming shadow over every minute of Astarion’s vampiric existence so far. It could be anxiety-inducing, to not seek pleasure or some form of happiness or comfort while there is opportunity for it, in what one perceives as a respite from constant, on-going suffering. (”Why do you insist on exhuming the past?” - when you ask about his past in camp, after you know he’s a vampire. An unpleasant reminder of an unpleasant past, why would he want to dwell on it? He has enough pain to last him multiple lifetimes. Literally.) From the deep, deep depths of prolonged suffering, it can potentially take a great deal more intensity of sensation to feel anything at all, let alone something approaching happiness. (”For the first time in two hundred years, I felt happy.” [presumed Astarion-origin line after drinking from a sleeping companion] / “I feel strong. I feel...happy!” [after MC succeeds in persuading Astarion to stop drinking from their neck after giving him permission to do so.]) This isn’t even taking into consideration how vampirism might have impacted Astarion’s psychology on a metabolic/biochemical level, so to speak. Where Larian goes with that is still to be determined, though my money’s on they give him more a murderous edge and natural inclination—not unlike a Beast-lite version of bloodlust from Vampire: The Masquerade— but still keep his core traits very much human rather than supernaturally-alien/2D-cut-out-monstrous. (Or elvhen, if we’re being fantasy-world-linguistically technical here again.) Touching on the matter of monstrous behavior though...It is a powerfully understated moment of casual cruelty that Larian allows the MC to decide once and once only, if Astarion may also drink from people or only animals. It’s so fitting I don’t believe it to be coincidence that he was a magistrate in his backstory—isn’t the MC passing a judgement too on him, a sentence to change his life for the foreseeable future, possibly forever without realizing or perhaps not caring about the full extent of their actions? And one cannot forget Wyll’s comment about the rat diet. Oh, can you not hear the resonating parallel real life pain from how those ignorant of another’s hurts might unintentionally mock the person and hurt them so? How some might apply their own morality from their own life experiences, without looking at the full extent of the consequences of their actions? A life and perspective that more likely has never been tested under the lash and upon the rack of some of life’s worst possible realities? Even if Wyll and the MC don’t mean to be, it is so very, very cruel. It is beautifully painful, Abdirak and the goddess Loviatar would be proud. (”My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel...happy!”) To be denied not just better food, but the ability to think clearly, to feel well, the actuality of being happy as a norm? It is so very hollow an existence to feel so constantly weak of both body and mind, and oh isn’t it just the richest thing, that an MC might echo Cazador’s choice and power over Astarion thusly? It’s enough to make one laugh an Evil Laugh™ of appreciation at just how unthinkingly, horribly cruel a person can potentially be while playing a Good™ character. This is actually a level of genius on Larian’s part that I wonder how many in the audience will actually look at and appreciate the subtle horror of. The horror that we do this too, in real life, sometimes without ever knowing the seemingly small, far-reaching ripples of harm an unthinking phrase or comment can do when we don’t take another’s reality into consideration—that we don’t know what it is we don’t know. It is a fine piece of storytelling, to offer up a story with so many facets to reflect upon. It’s so beautifully crafted that Astarion speaks and dresses like a noble, that he can so easily be perceived as a person of privilege at first glance should one merely look at some of his surface behaviors and inclinations—remnant trappings of his distant past most likely, from once upon a time. It’s a delightful reveal and subversion that he, I think we can safely say, isn’t that. Perhaps he was, once, but he isn’t at this point in his life, not anymore. Appearances are deceiving, and doesn’t that just tie so nicely right into some of Astarion’s potential themes and behaviors? The lies that crack open as truth and pain come bleeding out from underneath? I do wonder how many of Larian’s audience have known hunger—and not known when the next meal will happen, what it might be, if it will have strings attached? The kind of hunger that follows you everywhere, that roots down into your bones and hollows out a home there forever more? It changes how a person sees things, how they act, how they think, even when they’re removed from being hungry all the time. One doesn’t need to be skin and bones to feel like one is starving constantly,—(I very much enjoy that headcanon just to clarify, I’m not intending to throw shade in any of this or future rambling)—to be kept on a hollow diet of empty calories that are enough to keep your heart pumping, but your body struggles because it doesn’t have the nutrients it needs in the amounts it needs? To feel your mind fog over with exhaustion and blanketed despair, a primal and low level desperation whittled down into a tired and numb, anxious background static from adrenal fatigue? Miscellaneous aches, pains and problems that seem unrelated but in reality, if only you knew, were because your body can’t function the way it should ideally, because you don’t have what you truly need? A very real problem in real life, for far too many people. And oh, the beautiful, casual, so very human monstrousness Larian lets us exercise here, knowing or unknowing. It is such a powerful, understated cluster of ideas. And I think Larian knew—someone on the dev team did their homework on both traditional starvation but also what one might call masked-starvation as no doubt other tumblr folks have also speculated, just based off of what we’ve seen and because of that Happy buff Astarion gets when he uses his Vampiric Bite ability in combat. It fits right into his whole theme of “what makes a monster and what makes a man?” (Sing the bells of Notre Dame~♪) But not necessarily asking that question only of him. Rather, asking it also of the MC. This fits into the game’s whole theme with the tadpoles, the choice of using the power and turning into “Something More Beautiful” as Minthara put it, of taking the darker path, it all fits so very well. I just want to applaud this because it’s not a major story-beat moment. It’s a companion-side-quest moment. It’s going to be for the most part seen as a combat-game-mechanic and head-canon defining moment, deciding if Astarion may feed on people or not. I doubt we’d see Larian actually changing Astarion’s demeanor much in how he delivers lines with a “allowed to drink people blood” code flag, as cool as that might be. It very well could factor into later outcomes but for voice acting I doubt they’ll make an entire second/third/etc set of each line spawning from that one seemingly small choice. It makes me very hopeful that Larian can handle such weighty themes so deftly thus far—we’ll have to wait and see if they can stick the landing once the game is finished, but boy oh boy their nuance and delivery so far is strong as steel and sharp as a double-edged sword right out of the gate. The studio is in a fantastic position to explore and to challenge people’s thoughts and ideas regarding character builds like Astarion’s imo, depending on how the dev team chooses to play it out. Seeing some of Gale and Shadowheart’s dialogue trees from the goblin party, I have high hopes that the dev team will allow a great deal of exploration and flexibility all across the moral spectrums, not only allowing us the option to drag the more seen-as-good-aligned characters down paths of moral corruption,—(note: I’m including Shadowheart in more neutral-ish territory for now but the fact that she seems to feel emotionally ill—guilty, one could say—at the goblin party and is busy trying to get drunk to drown that feeling out suggests to me she Definitely does have a more good-aligned moral compass to a nuanced degree)—but also the chance to drag more seen-as-evil-aligned characters along the path to more traditionally good endings and persuade them to see the benefits of playing nice with others per more classic Good™ societal rules (subjectively speaking ofc.) But Larian is also in a very precarious place too—speaking strictly of just the one character as the focus of this essay, Astarion resonates very easily through that very real fear, pain, anger, bitterness and so many other emotions as a result of what he has survived, is still surviving through, and struggling against: trauma. How bitter indeed would it be should a character—that people with very deep, real pain can relate to—not get at least the option for a well-crafted, hopeful and merciful epilogue? Oh the sympathetic pain that Larian could reap could be pain of the very worst kind, if they condemn him to only death and darkness with bleak endings that lack nuance and care. I’ve seen some posts where people worry about Astarion not potentially having a good ending, with possible unspoken implications that he might be railroaded into betraying the MC. I’d like to say that I think a lot of his subtext, even looking at the instances where he lies and the datamined details of the voice-acting-directions, would run counter to railroading him to only ever betraying the MC. I think straight betrayal is going to run as mostly antithetical to his core themes in a way. He might betray your MC—but it will likely be because the MC betrayed him first in a myriad of small ways, or in a big way. Approval-rating-system based choices are a very real possibility too, separately or as a part of the equation naturally, in addition to your major in-game choices. That would also include the scenario of betrayal through using the tadpole powers enough to be mind-controlled into having no will of his own, much like the other characters, including the MC. I do think we have plenty of good, solid reason to be very hopeful that he will have a possible good continuation—not ending. A continuation where he manages to free himself from Cazador with the help of his companions or perhaps dare he even say friends, manages to begin the process of healing the immediate pains of his trauma and learning how to truly live with all that he’s been through and all that he’s done, to have the possibility of not only living but living both happily and well for the most part? Who knows what else Larian Studios might have in the works for him and the other companions, as well as the MC and the story of Baldur’s Gate 3. But good outcomes for all seems like it very likely could happen, for all of the companions. His wiki page’s summary tagline hook in particular offers up that implied promise from the developers to the audience, I would say, “Astarion prowled the night as a vampire spawn for centuries, serving a sadistic master until he was snatched away. Now he can walk in the light, but can he leave his wicked past behind?” What that promise is, varies from creator to creator. In this case, based on the wording, I would say that potentially implies a satisfyingly well-crafted and engaging story wherein we find out and determine if the answer to that question is yes or no, and in a DND-based RPG full of choices that have an impact on the people and world around you? In a game genre that has a history of multiple, varied endings for your companions based on how you play? That checks out. Larian so far has been handling things admirably well in my opinion, and I’m willing to invest emotionally in this story they’re telling with the trust that they will deliver a good continuation and conclusion. But on the off-chance that somehow Astarion’s endings all turn out painful and tragic on the meta for the fanbase, that the associated intentional or unintentional messages wound and grieve those who recognize and resonate most strongly with the pains he has felt? On that off-chance, in that instance where we are left bereft and disappointed because of what happened to him or any of the companions or the story itself should somehow things go awry, then it would be your right to ask Larian the very same question Astarion asked you once: How can you be so cruel?

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #spoilers #bg3 spoilers #Astarion #character study #long post #very long post #eXtreme rambling ahoy #speculation #congrats if you can read this all #totally understandable if it's too much text tho #it's long enough and rambly enough that it wandered away from the limits I intended #because I have FEELINGS about this gremlin vampire man #cackles madly #maybe the vampire will stop haunting my brain for a bit now #I have other things to do #aside from writing long contemplation pieces #prepare the angst-grapple-hooks crewmates #why yes I'm going to make silly jokes about pirates and sailing and the like #no I do not have any depth to my knowledge base about such things #I just like their hats man #arr #also not looking to make anyone feel bad or invalidate their hcs or opinions #just want good vibes for all #and more cakes for all #metaphorically speaking #the cake is not a lie tho #well #metaphorically it's not a lie

123 notes · View notes

bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 4 years

Text

Alright, chapter 8! And man is there a lot to talk about here. I don’t really have any pre-content things to say, so we’ll just hop right into it today!

[No. 8 - Rage, You Damned Nerd]

I swear, this first page has a LOT to talk about on it, so I’ll go from panel to panel and do some rambling thoughts on each segment.

First off, UA doesn’t actually handle the costumes the kids get! It’s support companies affiliated with the school that does - which makes sense, since the school has to focus on teaching their support students before letting them get their hands on actual costumes that these kids might be fighting in.

I mean, they seem to be allowed to practice on like, minor support stuff (read: Mei making Izuku his new gloves post-Nighteye or somewhere around there) but not full costuming, which is… actually a bit reassuring? But also explains some of the lag time in getting costume repairs / upgrades since they’re probably busy companies. It also explains why there probably aren’t major alterations to any costumes besides between the summer and winter variants, since it would be time-consuming to remake these costumes so regularly.

(It still doesn’t excuse some of the costumes the kids got, but that’s more on the whole ‘eye candy’ thing for readers than actual practicality, so whatever.)

(Also, I can’t get over the fact that Snipe has a support company. Fucking Snipe. Guess we know another canon or likely-canon Support teacher.)

Next we get a preview of what the kids sent in for specifications for their costumes:

We get a bit of insight into a few of the characters - as background stuff, we get Shouji, Mineta, Aoyama, and Sato. Mineta got pretty dunked on for char design and costuming, and Aoyama’s costume almost looks like a magical girl outfit like this, which honest to god would have been fantastic to see him in. More interesting (at least to me) are the other three: Ochako, Tenya, and Katsuki.

Ochako first, because that pressure point thing is interesting, and I dunno how often those actually come up in fics besides a passing mention, like. What if her support bracelets / neck piece broke during training / a mission / whatever? Would she suddenly have to fight through the nausea? By the point of current canon (War Arc) she’s probably trained enough that she doesn’t need them as much, but man, it could be an interesting little thing to explore, like, post-Kamino.

Tenya is a bit surprising, since we know he comes from a well-off hero family. Logically, this was before the whole Hosu / Ingenium plotline was really developed, so Tenya didn’t have that to fall back on, or it could be argued that the support company that Ingenium is associated with also works with UA. Alternatively, it could be that either Tenya didn’t want to rely on his family (which seems silly when they’d know how to work with his quirk best) or UA is very firm on ALL costume stuff going through them…

But then again, Katsuki. Oh god, Katsuki. What fucking support company looked at this kid and went ‘yeah we should give him a way to store more explosives AND give him bombs’ and just. Did so. Why did UA not vet that. Maybe the support company didn’t realize how strong his explosions were without the gear, but UA, man, I just. I suppose they had no way of knowing how reckless he’d be with them, but honestly, after the battle trials, they should have been fucking yoinked from him so damned fast.

Anyways, onto other parts of Katsuki’s costume, we see he’s a fucking dork. Possibly what lowered their guard. ‘Something scary’ and ‘Dynamighte all over’. What the hell, kid. At least your designer stuck close to your design… including the huge-ass clunky gauntlets. Man, the Musketeer Trio movie poster ones are so much better looking and so, so streamlined. Works of art, they are.

Moving on, we get a bit of a flashback to ~three weeks ago, which by the calendar would be around March 20th? So a few weeks after the Entrance Exam. And Izuku is only NOW getting around to updating the quirk registry? Izuku baby seriously, how the FUCK did none of the UA staff notice the ‘quirkless’ on your application form at any point before this?

But yeah, he’s worried about his registry, so he calls Toshinori, who explains the update process. It gives the example of someone who might alter their stuff with updated information, with one or two allowed - though major ones aren’t accepted. Toshinori then says it’ll probably be okay since he started with nothing, then tries to correct himself to ‘definitely’, only to get cut off because Izuku accidentally hangs up in a panic when Inko calls out that she’s home. Haha poor Toshinori, and poor Izuku, the two anxious dumbasses.

Anyways, moving on from that is Inko showing off the jumpsuit she made, with Izuku surprised. She admits it’s not the coolest, but she based it off of the design in his notebook (the one we saw back in chapter 1). She tells him she regrets giving up on him back then, and how he never quit regardless of her faith. She apologizes and says from there on she’ll be cheering him on with all she’s got.

Izuku’s narration notes that it’s a symbol of his mom’s love, and that he couldn’t wear anything else, even if it’s not ‘efficient’ or ‘cutting edge’. (Or even at all decent looking.) And it’s also hinted through the present thoughts on it that it’s meant to be an homage to All Might (the smile and the hair pieces) which is just such a dorky thing.

We get to the wide-spread of hero costumes, which- wait a second.

That’s Momo’s initial hero costume design???? Why did Hori not stay with that??? It’s a LOT better than the stuff we’ve seen her in later! Like, sure, it’d still be improved with the main opening being her stomach and not her chest, but this still looks like actual human clothing and not a sexy Halloween costume variant of her hero uniform. Fucking hell, now I’m even more mad.

Tsuyu’s costume meets the approval of the discord server as basically ‘no changes needed’ asides from maybe the goggles being a bit bulky.

Tenya’s costume, I’m sorry, I know it’s an homage to your brother / family, but were the additional pipes really needed? Also, the helmet isn’t a bad idea since he goes fast, and bugs in the mouth/teeth have to suck, but it just looks so damned Gundam-y I can’t help but laugh a little.

Shouto… nah, too easy a target.

Aoyama is Aoyama. I’m actually a bit disappointed now that it’s not a magical girl costume, but alas, I suppose even Hori couldn’t be that brave.

Kaminari… I forgot he had that headset thingy.

Don’t really have much else to say about anyone else, so let’s move on.

Izuku bugs out a bit about Ochako’s costume/appearance, while she compliments his more practical looks and laments not being specific, saying it’s a bit too puffy and curvy for her. Which means it’s more the accessories which seem to be her issue with it over the main costume itself? Huh.

Anyways, after All Might confirms they’re all there, he notices Izuku’s headpieces, which are a match to his costume, and has to turn to muffle a laugh for how obvious a reference it is. Tenya steps up, asking whether they’ll be doing cityscape maneuvers again since it’s the same field used in the entrance exam. Izuku thinks to himself how cool Tenya’s costume is, while All Might explains that they’re moving onto step two - indoor anti-personnel battle training!

He explains what while villain battles are most commonly seen outdoors, statistically the worst crimes and villains are more likely to be found indoors. Confinement, house arrest, black market deals… the clever villains luck indoors to avoid heroes. Which is why the class will be split into teams of two and pit against each other, heroes versus villains style!

Ah, Tsuyu. Calling him right the heck out, as expected. All Might then notes that in this scenario, the fight won’t be against disposable robots.

This entire page is just fucking hilarious. The class and all their questions while All Might is shaking with nerves. The fucking cheat sheet he uses to try to get back on track. Him being questioned on the lot drawing, and shaking while Izuku accidentally ends up covering for him. I just. All Might was not prepared for this mess and it shows. He was doing so much better when it was the one on one stuff with Izuku.

But yeah, Izuku notes the scenario is like from a western comic plot, and he’s also the one who ‘realizes’ the lots are like when heroes from different agencies have to team up for emergencies without prior warning.

Lots are drawn, and we have our teams:

Izuku’s so stressed out because he still can’t really talk to her, while she’s excited to be teamed up and calls it ‘fate’ that it happened. All Might draws the first two teams to participate, and… team Izuku and Ochako (as the heroes) versus team Katsuki and Tenya (as the villains). Both Izuku and Katsuki are alert from this development…

Which makes this a good point to cut off, since it’s halfway through and we got a lot of information to chew on already. Second part should be out this weekend (hopefully).

#chapter 8 #readthrough #opening arcs #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #iida tenya #yagi toshinori #bakugou katsuki #midoriya inko #class 1a #izuku's first costume was fucking hideous #thank god hori / the support company improved on it afterwards #also shouto #i don't even need to say anything when the fandom has made fun of your for me #also i cannot BELIEVE we were robbed of this momo costume #what the FUCK hori

46 notes · View notes

jobrookekarev · 4 years

Text

He's Wrapped Around Her Finger

Chapter: 1/1

Words: 3500

Summary: While Jo’s sleeping Alex gets to know his newborn daughter and settles into the role of Dad.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson Karev, Helena Karev, and Meredith Grey.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Babies, Baby Care, Fluff, It’s so fluffy I'm going to die, Alex being a Dad, Alex and Jo being smitten with their daughter, Blood Mentioned.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: 3 fanfics in a week who is she! Also I had to Google what color the indicator line on diapers were because I remembered it was yellow at the start, but I didn't remember what color it would turn when it was wet so that how long it’s been since I changed a diaper.

……………………………………………………………………

“Helena Meredith Karev born on November 26th at 5:36 am at 21 inches long and weighing at 8 lb 15 oz., just 1 oz short of 9 lb,” Alex announced as he spoke to Meredith on the phone.

“1 oz. short of 9 lb wow,” Meredith said in astonishment. “How's Jo recovering?”

“She's doing good. She and the baby are asleep right now.”

Alex looks over at the bassinet that was parked next to Jo's bed. Jo slept on her side with one hand in the bassinet on their daughter's chest. Jo’s abandonment issues had come up earlier and Alex noticed she was having a hard time letting Helena out of her sight. Her hand on Helena's chest in the bassinet was how Jo maintained contact with her daughter while getting some much needed rest.

“Good, now promise me you'll never tell Jo that her daughter almost weighed 9 lb. at birth,” Meredith insisted with a little laugh.

“What? Why not?” Alex said confused as he looked over the little note card posted on Helena's bassinet that listed her weight and other details. “Jo knows how much she weighs.”

“Yeah, Jo knows Helena weighs 8 lb. and 15 oz., but when you say she almost weighs 9 lb it isn’t the same thing. Thinking of your baby as 8 lb vs 9 lb is different. No woman likes to be remembered how big their baby was and how hard it was to push them out unless you want Helena to be an only child.”

“Okay, I promise to say she weighs 8 lb. and 14oz. whenever Jo asks,” Alex said rolling his eyes at Meredith as he watched Jo shift in her sleep so her legs were more apart.

Watching Jo be in excruciating amounts of pain as she labored was hard for him, but he pushed it aside to be there to support his wife. Jo’s pain was to the point of which she was completely out of it, just going through the motions as she pushed their daughter into the world. Alex had watched quite a few women give birth, but it was different because it was Jo. He loved her and he hated seeing her in pain knowing that he had partially caused it.

When they had discussed having kids, Alex knew it would include a painful labor and that it would be hard on Jo and her body. Despite her training as an OB and numerous birth classes they had gone to, Jo didn't realize she was in labor until she was in active labor and they had to rush to the hospital. Alex knew that because of this experience Jo may not want to get pregnant again. If that was her decision, he would abide by it. Alex was happy because he was so absolutely content with the little girl in front of him.

“Congratulations, Alex,” Meredith said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“You said that already,” Alex said although he didn't mind hearing it again.

“Yeah well, I'm going to say it again. Have you texted Cristina yet?”

“No, not yet and we haven't talked to too many people, apart from the video call earlier, I’ve just talked to you and my mom. It's hard to find the time. I just keep staring at her, and thank you Meredith for everything.”

“You mean for waking you up so you didn't miss your wife's labor, you're welcome.”

“Yeah that especially,” Alex said as he couldn't help but chuckle as he remembered the chaotic events of that morning. “I'll talk to you later, bye”

“Bye.”

Alex put away his phone and settled into the uncomfortable chair next to Jo’s bed. He thought that they'd make these chairs more comfortable considering that most second parents and family members usually ended up spending the night there, but apparently not. He would have to check the budget and see if they could upgrade the chairs. Despite how he was no longer the chief of surgery, Alex learned a lot, and he still occasionally found himself reverting to taking care of the business side of the hospital. Alex shuffled around trying to get comfortable but clearly, he was not sleeping in this chair that afternoon.

Alex watched over his girl. He smiled at the thought, his girls, he had a daughter. He had a child of his own and oh how he was in love with her. Helena squealed in the bassinet throwing her arms around and Alex was up in an instant. Her tiny face squished even further as she let out a single cry. Jo stirred next to her and he felt like he was in the middle of a complicated surgery.

Alex was quick to slip his hand under Helena as he took Jo's hand and put it next to her. He was cautious so as not to wake his sleeping wife and let her get the rest she deserved while also soothing their newborn. As soon as he put down Jo's hand and moved to cradle Helena, he stopped for a moment. Jo sighed but didn't move or wake up and he looked down at Helena who cried out again. Helena spread out her arms and continued to fuss. After a certain number of years, soothing babies became instinctual and Alex started to sway and shush.

“Shh, Shh, it's okay, Daddy's got you.” Alex smiled down at her as she stopped fussing and opened her eyes to look up at him.

Helena studied him for a moment, staring into his soul in the way only a baby could before she decided this wasn't what she wanted, and cried out again in that little uh fussy cry.

“Okay, okay,” Alex said, he looked back to the chair before he sat down and laid Helena on his knees. He undid the blanket intending to redo it into a proper swaddle. “Oh, I see what it is.”

Alex saw the full diaper and the blue line that indicated she had her first wet diaper. He was weirdly proud about it especially as it meant that her kidneys were functioning well and she was hydrated. “Okay, give me a second.”

Alex cradled her close to his chest as he got up and walked over to the drawers where they kept wipes and diapers. He got the supplies and went over to the changing table in the bathroom. He propped the door open in case Jo woke up as he didn't want her to panic when they were gone and got the changing table open.

“You know, I promised your mom I’d do all of these diaper changes since she carried you for nine months, basically built you from scratch, and just now endured quite a few hours of labor with you. She wanted an epidural you know, but she didn’t realize she was in labor. You gotta remind me to tease her about that later, but not until after her stitches heal, and you were eager to get here too huh?” Alex said to Helena as she continued to fuss a little bit more as he quickly changed her and got her settled in a fresh diaper.

Alex staring down at her as he pulled down the onesie Jo had put on her. He knew Jo like the ‘little turkey’ onesie, but it had buttons and buttons were always a struggle, even for a seasoned Ped’s doctor like he was. Alex resisted the urge to grab the other baby gown or even the one with the zippers as he finally did the last button.

“There we go, are we happy now?” Alex asked, Helena looked around and was content and wiggled around. He wrapped her up into a proper swaddle before he picked her up again, but she looked up at him and then cried out again, still not happy. “I know, I am not-mom right now aren't I.”

Alex quietly talked to her as he settled her in his arms and walked back into the room. He sat down in the recliner and started to rock back and forth. “I'm not-Mom. I'm not what you want, I know, we don't know each other yet, although you might recognize my voice. I've read you lots of stories while you were still in your mommy's belly. I even did a little bit of singing too, but don't tell anyone around here that.”

Alex settled into the movement of the chair as he looked down at Helena. She had stopped fussing and stared up at him again, seeming to take him in as she listened to his voice and he took that as a cue to continue.

“I guess now would be the proper time for an introduction. I'm your dad, most people call me Alex or Dr. Karev around here at the hospital. Your mom calls me Alex too, but she drags it out a little in a way that's pretty adorable. Your Aunt Cristina is going to call me Evil Spawn and your Auntie Mare might do it too. You've met her already, although you probably didn't notice. She was on the video called when you were born, but I remember how you and your mom only had eyes for each other. Your mom and I, we don't have a big bio family, but we do have lots of friends and they're our family. They all love you so much already, especially your cousin Ellis.”

Alex rambled off to her as Helena just watched him, and he took in his daughter. He never really saw familiar features in newborns. They always just looked similar, like babies and not much else. The features really didn’t come in until they were a little older and then you could say they look like one parent or the other. Yet, as Alex looked down at Helena he saw his chin and his crooked lips in the way that she frowned as she cried. She looked like Jo too, she had Jo’s cute little cheeks and her eyes. Although she looked like an even mix of them now, he could tell that she was going to be a little tiny Jo running around their house. They joked about how they'd never be able to say no to their kid, and Alex knew that with just one look from Helena and he would melt like snow in the sun. His daughter would always be the bright spot in his day.

Helena's eyes started to droop, but she would occasionally blink them open. As if she was fighting sleep as much as Jo did. “You are already so much like your mother. She does that same thing too, you know. When we watch movies on the couch with Reese's, you haven't met him yet and he just knows you as the thing that keeps him from sitting on Mommy's lap. It might be a while before you two become friends, but you’ll like him too.”

Alex rocked her as she fell asleep in his arms and it made him feel some weird sense of accomplishment because his kid fell asleep in his arms. He knew from experience that getting a baby back to sleep was no easy feat. He continued to hold her, not ready to put her back down again. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to put her down and he knew why Jo was hesitant to do so as well. He just sat there and rocked his daughter and held her and patted her back.

“Anyway, Saturday nights are movie nights and your Mommy always curls up in my lap and puts her head on my chest. She always says she'll stay up and watch the whole movie,” Alex said as he leaned closer to whisper to Helena. “But she never does.”

“That's not true,” Jo whispered and Alex looked up to see her smile from where she was curled up in bed.

She must have been watching them for a little while and he smiled back at her. A sense of relief filled his mind as she had woken up without panicking for the first time and he tried to remain calm as he smiled back at her.

“It is true, you always fall asleep just, like clockwork before the end credits.”

“I didn't fall asleep when we watched that one really bad horror movie.”

“Yeah because it scared the crap out of you. I had to turn it off because you started crying.”

“No, we had to turn it off because Reeses wouldn't stop barking at it.”

“Okay Princess,” Alex said, smiling as she raised her eyebrows at him and he chuckled as he got up and walked over to sit on her bed. The second he sat down Jo reached out, and he thought she was going to take Helena, but instead, she smacked the side of his arm. “Hey, I've got precious cargo here.”

“She’s fine and you can't use our daughter as a shield to protect you against my wrath,” Jo teased with a smirk of her own. She carefully sat up and Alex's smile faded as she grimaced when she moved.

“Is your ice pack still cold? Do you want me to get you a new one or something?”

“No, I think I bled through the pad again.”

Jo pulled back the blankets and he was relieved to see that there were no bloodstains on the sheets. Jo carefully got up out of bed and Alex put Helena down in the bassinet.

“No, just hold her, I’ll be fine,” Jo said, waving him off.

“Jo, let me take care of you,” Alex insisted as he watched Helena for a second to see if she’d fuss before he went over to help his wife.

Alex put his arm around her and grabbed the IV pole as they took small and wide steps over to the bathroom. Jo let go of his waist as she stepped into the bathroom and grabbed the peri bottle and her other supplies. Alex got out a new ice pad and activated it, shaking it up before he felt it cool in his hand. He handed it to her before she waved him off again.

“Just let me help you, Jo. I know it hurts you to whip and…”

“Alex,” Jo said, slightly annoyed as she cut him off. “You can change our daughter's diapers, not mine. I got this.”

“Are you sure, because honestly, I don't mind,” Alex argued, he wasn't sure how much she would let him take care of her, but he wanted to do this for her. If she let them.

“Alex, today multiple people, several of whom are my coworkers, have seen me naked on a bed pushing out a baby. I need a moment of privacy,” Jo said, holding her hand out to block him from coming close.

Alex nodded and took a step back. He made a big thing about covering his eyes and turned around to go back out into the room, bumping into the doorway as Jo laughed behind him. He smiled as it didn't hurt that much and hearing her laugh after her tears earlier felt good. Alex rubbed his forehead as he went back into the room and picked up Helena again, knowing Jo would want to hold her the second she was back in bed.

Alex looked down at her and smiled, completely smitten. From the moment Jo told him she was pregnant, he was over the moon. He had seen how parents had fallen in love with their child and he felt that love the moment Jo was pregnant. The moment Carina had placed their daughter on Jo’s chest. It was like his heart burst with love and happiness. It was so overwhelming and utterly consuming. He loved his daughter more than he could describe.

He had taken care of babies his entire life. His mom had started to slip just after Amber turned one so the majority of her care fell to him. He practically raised Amber and Aaron until they were all put in foster care. After Amber got sick and had to go to the hospital and the state finally stepped in. After that, he took care of his mom throughout high school and college up until the day he got the job and flew out to the then Seattle Grace Hospital. Even then he sent money and hired someone to check on her. When it came to his career, he wanted to go into plastics, but somehow he ended up in Peds and he was good there.

He took care of thousands of babies over the years and in caring for them he loved them. Alex watched their parents love them more than anything in the world, and he got a bit of that love when it came to Meredith’s kids. They were his nieces and nephew and he loved them like they were his own because they were family, but he still didn't experience the kind of love a parent had for their child, until the moment his child was there. It was all he could think about. She was all-consuming in a way that he could just stare at her for hours.

It wasn't until he really succeeded at being a Peds doctor that he knew he could be a dad. Even though it still terrified him. Every injured kid that walked through the door he could see being his kid. He went home to Jo and put his hands on her belly and he worried. Alex worried about all the possible complications, diseases, and injuries that their kids could get. Even now staring down at her, he knew she was perfect. Her APGAR score was a 10, she had good reflexes, and she was eating and wetting her diapers, and she was perfect, but he still worried. He was so lost in thought that he even noticed Jo had come up behind him until she pressed up against him and they stared down at their daughter.

“She's perfect, Alex,” Jo whispered to him, kissing his cheek. She had always been able to since his worries.

“Yeah, she is,” Alex said as he put his arm around her as they both stared at Helena completely in awe of their daughter.

Jo moved to get back in bed and Alex helped her up, despite how she protested. After she was settled, Alex placed Helena in her arms before Jo could even ask.

“Thank you,” Jo whispered, cradling her close.

They both continued to stare down at her and Alex sat back down in the chair and scooted closer to their bedside. Helena’s little eyes fluttered open, but she didn't cry as she stared up at Jo who smiled down at her. Completely smitten as well.

“Yeah, that’s Mommy isn’t it,” Alex said reaching out and putting his hand on Jo’s knee. Jo didn't even glance up at him, she just smiled down at Helena.

In the past nine months, he had watched Jo go through so many emotions, as he watched her become a mother. Everything she did was to care for their daughter. He knew that Jo was terrified about becoming a mom when they first started talking about kids years ago. She knew the heartache of a bad childhood because she lived it. She was terrified of her genes and she wanted a career first so he waited patiently for her to be ready.

Watching her with their daughter in just the past few hours Alex thought she was the best mom in the world, although he might be a little biased. Jo was so good with her, the second Helena fussed or cried, Jo would pick her up. She was so attentive to their daughter and so loving, Alex couldn't help but just watch them together.

“Daddy is staring at us,” Jo giggled as she looked up and caught him.

Alex smiled completely unashamed. “What can I say, I'm awestruck by the two beautiful girls in front of me, my girls.”

“Your girls,” Jo smiled before she realized something and giggled. “Alex Karev has a daughter.”

“Oh God,” Alex said, putting a hand over his face as he realized the karmic payback that was coming to him.

“With your luck, she’ll probably be crazy for whatever gender she ends up liking,” Jo laughed putting her hand on his arm as the color drained from his face.

“No, no, she is a baby. We're not talking about this,” Alex said, shaking his head.

“She's not going to be a baby forever,” Jo said as she tilted her head and smiled at him, clearly enjoying torturing him.

“No, but she is a baby right now, a newborn and she's going to stay that way,” Alex said looking down at Helena and rubbing her little cheek.

Jo giggled again as she leaned forward and reached her hand out to wrap around his neck and pull in for a kiss. Alex let himself linger on Jo's lips as she smiled against his lips. Helena squealed and they parted with a laugh as they looked down at their daughter who stared up at Jo. Jo traced her finger down Helena’s cheek as she rocked her and Alex smiled at his girls. Yeah, this was perfect.

……………………………………………………………………

AN: On a scale of 1 to 10 how much did this turn you into a pile of mush?

#jo wilson #alex karev #jolex #grey's anatomy #meredith grey #grey's anatomy fanfic #otp: home and heart #my writing #my work #my fanfiction

25 notes · View notes

lycaran · 4 years

Text

Meet Lonnie

So uh...May have made a Hardenshipping fankid.

His name's Lonnie, an orphan street kid that Archie and Maxie adopted who counts as a fankid in my eyes, god damn it.

I can’t draw muscles or children to save my life.

Originally @cryptidanaphafsi did this I with their fankid I believe?

Info under the cut because I really started to ramble about details...A lot.

Bad Quality picture, but his adult versions both have a keystone in the middle of their mask that they use for Mega Evolution.

Notes:

RSE canon is Emerald, which leads in Alpha Sapphire in the future, though in this canon way, RSE events get resolved Without a protagonist. Hypothetical game futures for the SM and USUM games.

RSE Version -

-Still living on the streets at this point, 8-10 in age.

-Met a few times over the course of the story, usually found hiding around a corner after an encounter with Maxie or Archie(outside of hideout encounters), seems mostly in awe of how cool the plans seem.

-Selectively mute, if talked to he'll make gestures towards the player but since the player is about ten, all you really get from talking to him is "...."

-Jumpy, running off as soon as the player is done talking

-Vitiligo

-In the Sapphire & Emerald versions of the game, post game, he's absolutely Terrified of Kyogre, developing Aquaphobia as he grows older.

-Sometime post game, Archie and Maxie pick him up bc he still seems to tag along just behind one of them, and hey, the kid needs a home. And when they’ve patched things up, they’re really good dad’s.

ORAS Version, constants-

- Adopted pre-game and raised by Maxie and Archie before they split bc of differing ideals...again.

- Mid-twenties.

- Team Magma Admin.

- Aquaphobia from past trauma, selectively mute.

- I can't draw muscles but he's definitely the strongest person there, thanks to Archie and a bit of Matt.

- As an adult, Vitiligo patches have spread and caused part of his hair to grow in white.

- Personality wise, he's a rather nice man, only really being a sore loser. And takes after Maxie alot in the brains department, including dumbassery.

- He’s dating both an Aqua Grunt and a Magma Grunt, don’t tell his dads though. A grunt in the Magma hideout asks you if you want to place a bet on that happens when the bosses find out, then realizes you are Not one of the grunts, and runs off.

- Aqua Grunt is named Dew

- Magma Grunt is named Ashe

- I will draw them eventually, they will be mentioned elsewhere.

Omega Ruby -

-he appears somewhat sporadically, usually around Maxie. Fought once at Mossdeep city when the player beats the gym, viewing the player as a threat to Maxie's goal...and wanting to make use of himself, aquaphobia keeping him from following the rest of the team down to the Seafloor Cavern. Team: Crobat, Camerupt, Mightyena, Sealeo.

-A Grunt, Ashe, follows him around and acts as an interpreter. Talking directly to Lonnie is always "..." before the grunt buts in to explain what he's trying to say.

-When defeated by the player, he'll turn to the grunt, signing furiously, only for the grunt to exclaim "I can't say that to a child!" before Lonnie leaves in a huff.

- During the Delta Episode he's fought at the Magma Hideout, without Ashe, absolutely Livid about what Zinnia did to Maxie, and fighting the player as soon as they enter, seeing them as just something else that'll upset his dad. Team: Crobat, Camerupt, Mightyena, Walrein.

- Post Delta Episode, you'll actually find him alone in a house on the Battle Resort. When talked to, he still won't talk, but after interacting with him Maxie walks in to explain that he and his son were there, trying to lay low, relax a bit, and they're waiting on "a certain someone" to show up for a talk.

Alpha Sapphire Version, aka the Canon Version-

- Not very active story wise, always seen rather ominously popping up mere seconds after an interaction with Team Aqua. He doesn't have an interpreter this time, so all the player really gets is "...." then a yes/no text box before he leaves.

- Appears on Mt. Chimney with Maxie to try and stop Team Aqua's little attempt. Maxie will actually translate some of what Lonnie's trying to say, and while it would be nice, he doesn't exactly explain Why Lonnie tends to be tailing Team Aqua, Archie most specifically

-And ho boy. When Kyogre gets awoken, this poor man is having the Worst day.

- In Sootopolis, he's seen quite visibly shaking, signing Something at Archie, who might be having a "Oh shit." moment and a half because his Son is VERY MUCH AFRAID OF WATER, AND VERY MUCH CAN. NOT. SWIM.

- So yeah. Not a fun time.

- Half of what he's signing is ruined by how shaky his hands are. Ashe looks ready to strangle Archie, and Dew is reeling from the reality and Actually starts cursing Archie out as soon as the player leaves to handle Kyogre.

- Tbh if the two boys didn’t start trying to murder Archie first, Maxie might’ve.

- When Kyogre is captured, when the player leaves and all is said and done, he gives the player a piece of Cameruptite with a small little Thank You note.

- Battle Resort/Battle Maison, he is once again found in a house, but this time Maxie is already there. And once the player talks to the two, Archie walks in, but when that happens, the player is asked to leave so they can have a Family chat.

Sun & Moon Games-

- Okay this is just me being self indulgent and including him in my favorite games of the series, plus it’s just neat.

- Basically, he’s there on a honeymoon with Ashe and Dew.

- Even after the teams disbanded, he’s very partial to his Magma outfit. Only real change coming coming from the removal of the Magma symbols on his vest. Still keeping the combined symbols on his mask.

- More or less appears as a cameo. The only reason they’re even having a Honeymoon in Alola is because it has both Water and Volcanos near eachother.

- Shows up in post game, investigating the Altar of the Sunne/Moone as the idea of other worlds really peaked his interest.

- Funny Images: 6′0″ string bean and a 5′7″ man with average muscle trying to carry a 6′5″ man with muscle from hell because the waves touched him and he freaked out.

Ultra Sun & Moon Games -

- Mostly the same.

- With the addition of the player actually getting his help against Rainbow Rocket

- When reaching the mansion, Lonnie will be there. Along with Ashe and Dew.

- He’ll then “ask” which side the player wants to take on, fighting either Archie or Maxie depending on choice. Vs. Archie, he takes Ashe with him, Vs. Maxie, he takes Dew. The other of his husbands goes with the player to help handle the other boss.

- After this, you can find Lonnie, Dew, and Ashe at the battle tree.

- Funny Images: Trying to get Lonnie onto Aether, a man made island in the middle of the ocean.

Pokespe Version -

- His age is more me throwing darts at a board trying to guess when shit happens.

- He’s alot more playful and joking in this version.

Ruby Sapphire Chapter -

- 16

-Actually adopted prior to the Ruby&Sapphire Chapter, but in a surprising twist, stays mainly with Archie.

- Interacts with Ruby and Sapphire once, maybe twice through the whole Manga.

- Hard for Archie to be intimidating with a giant of a teen in a life jacket clinging to him everytime they get near water, but he makes it work

- He stays with Arche and team Aqua for two reasons and two reasons only

- One, he lacks past trauma with Kyogre in pokespe, thus doesn’t fear water as much and can stand to be around it more. Two, alchoholics scare him more than water ever could.

-Along with that, Archie also has the safer public persona, so win win on his part

- Lonnie, being a teen, does tend to wander though. Barely seen for most of the chapters. When Archie and Maxie have their fight, he's there for a split second, before letting out his Crobat and fleeing.

-I don't have it all ironed out, but basically, the whole battles between Magma and Aqua through the whole arc have slowly built up this fear in Lonnie's brain when it comes to his dad's, and this is the tipping point.

- Sadly, both leaders are a bit preoccupied to notice at first that he's gone, and it's a fullblown panic after the fact.

-Sadly tho, this doesn't slow down their plans. But Blaise and Amber are put in charge of trying to track him down and find him.(Not in a bad way, more in a Extremely worried parents with a missing son way)

- Cue end of arc.

Emerald Arc

-still 16

-Makes brief cameos, he tends to linger around the back.

- Actually, screw it, I'll make this pretty later but he and Emerald do become friends.

- Has a small interaction with Emerald, writing about how he finds his equipment cool, and is in awe of how he calms pokemon.

-And boy oh does this lead to some Fun

- Cut the confrontation with Guile in the cave, the first Jirachi attempt

- Alot changes here.

- First of all, while Jirachi still escapes, Guile lingers for a moment. Looking at Lonnie for a long moment. And while he does 'reflect' back the attacks with his sword, he sends the attack flying off into a wall instead of at Emerald and Lonnie.

- Later, Guile actually snatches the poor kid, pulling off somewhere just to have a few moments to make sure he's okay

- If you know the manga, you know it's gonna be revealed to Lonnie at this point that Guile is, in fact, Archie. And while he tries to avoid the details, he does tell Lonnie he needs Jirachi to fix things

- Lonnie assumes, sadly naive, that this has to do with Maxie and their family. Even asking Archie where his other dad is, only to be met with silence.

- That doesn't settle well with him, actually demanding to know what happens, atleast as much as you can demand when you can’t talk. The last he heard about them was nearly destroying Hoenn so what happened?

- Archie doesn’t tell him, straight up Refuses to tell him what happened.

- This does not go well. Leading to Lonnie once more running off.

- Lonnie keeps in touch with Emerald after the arc is over, basically adopted him as a little brother because they’re both weird looking kids, Emerald being unusually short, and Lonnie having Vitiligo.

- He runs into Amber after this and kind of just, vibes there, treats Amber like an uncle, and that’s who looks after him for the next few years.

ORAS Arc -

- 20

-Lives with Amber, mostly helping the man with fishing and all around, just trying to have someone around he can 'talk' to without needing an interpreter or to write down every word he says.

-Team Aqua....2!

-He does end up joining the New Team Aqua, since he feels more safe with them in Pokespe. Along with this, he’s curious about where they came from and what’s going on here.

-Looks most like my concept sketch for him in this version.

- Eventually just, disepears in the midst of fighting. He's learned enough and doesn't want to face that all.

- Listen when I tell you. When he sees Maxie and Archie, he's pissed.

-And when The Dustening happens...

- He actually does cry. Hell, it's probably the only time he speaks, begging in a hoarse voice he never uses for his dad's to stay there. Just for once. Let them be a family just for Once.

- It doesn't work.

- Funny Images: Emerald, looking up at Lonnie who is like 3-4 times their height: “I AM GOING TO STEAL YOUR KNEECAPS!!!!” Lonnie, amused, signing: “You-can-try.”

-Pokemon Seen: Crobat, Sharpedo, Sandslash.

Sun and Moon Arc -

- 22

-He actually appears here.

- Listen, he's a smart man, and he knows a lot.

-Appears after that small time skip after Sun and Moon disepear through the portals, ultimately he's here investigating the portals.

- He 'talks' with Kukui and Burnet to try and figure out what's going on.

-I don't know how it'd be incorporated, but basically, he's trying to figure out where the Hell his dad's are. And if these Wormholes can help him, by god is he going to use them

- Knows that, most likely, they’re dead and gone for good. But still holds out hope that somewhere out there, they’re still alive.

- He's still wearing the life jacket. Less for Aesthetic, more because he’s scared shitless about being on an island.

- Are this chapter is where he would have started dating Dew and Ashe, having met them when that whole, other Team Aqua & Magma were made in ORAS.

#pokemon oc #pokemon fankid #hardenshipping fankid #of sorts #lisTEN HE COUNTS IN MY EYES GOD DAMN IT #They raised him. He's there kid #I'm not good at oc shit but uh. yeah #lyca-art #oc: Lonnie

13 notes · View notes

makeste · 5 years

Text

receive, and entrust (or, my rambling thoughts about That One Thing that happens at the end of Heroes Rising)

I wrote up all of my other thoughts on and reactions related to the movie here, but since this particular section was so long and involved, I decided to make it a separate post. so let’s talk about Bakugou and Deku and the big thing that happens between them in Heroes Rising.

please note this post has spoilers spoilers spoilers and more spoilers, for both the movie and for the manga (apologies to anyone who’s anime-only but there are aspects of OFA which are very difficult to discuss without getting into significant spoiler territory, so in the end I wasn’t able to make this post spoiler-free).

this is it. this is the dynamic I’ve been patiently waiting for since the very start of the series. they really fucking did it. one thing that I was bemused by is that I was making the rounds on twitter and tumblr and reddit checking out people’s reactions afterward, and I saw a lot of “there was real respect between them” and “I like Bakugou a lot more in this dynamic” and “now I understand why some people ship it” and so on and so forth. and just... how do I put this. first of all, yes, exactly, this. but second, I think that what some people missed is that this is the dynamic that people who ship BakuDeku (either platonically or romantically) have really been shipping this entire time. that even when this dynamic wasn’t present, it was the potential for it, the hints of what could be, that made people invested in this relationship. anyway, so to see that finally out in the open though for everyone to see was just so, so gratifying. it was like, yes! this is it! this is what the two of them were always working towards, what they were always meant to be. and it’s all the more rewarding for how hard they struggled to get there. anyway. suffice to say it has been a good weekend.

let’s talk about the big thing. the OFA transfer. the trust and respect and intimacy involved in this moment. Deku knows he has no choice, but he’s also relieved in a way that if it can’t be him, if it has to be someone else, that that someone is Kacchan. he tells Kacchan that he doesn’t regret it, and he says that All Might would approve of it as well, because Kacchan already knows about OFA. but what goes unspoken is the much deeper meaning of this. like yes, it’s convenient that the person Deku ends up passing the quirk onto is the one other person who’s already in on the secret. but it’s not a coincidence that Kacchan does know the secret. Kacchan knows because Deku told him. because they have always been together, because their fates have always been tied together, because Deku could never have not told him.

and sharing OFA is so much more than just sharing a power. it’s sharing a responsibility; a lineage. both a great burden and a rare privilege. this is not something to be passed on lightly, and it isn’t. Deku isn’t making the decision lightly here. because -- and this is the important part! and the part that is the culmination of all of their character development up to this point! the part that took 200+ chapters to build up to! -- this isn’t actually a decision that’s made in this moment at all, but a decision that was made by him ages and ages ago, when he first told Kacchan I got my quirk from someone else. when he opened up to him even though they weren’t friends. when the truth flowed from him even though he was trying to hold it back. because it was Kacchan. and because that bond runs so deep that this secret, this burden, could not be held back. and because Kacchan, even though it took him a while, eventually put the pieces of it together afterwards, because it was Deku. and because he knows Deku. and because, when All Might explained the rest of it later on, Kacchan told the two of them both, without being prompted, without being asked, I won’t tell anyone. because he immediately understood the gravity of it, the importance of it. because Deku was right to choose him.

so the fact is that the decision to pass it on to Katsuki isn’t one that’s just made here in the heat of the moment, with no other options on the table. the decision to choose Kacchan as the one he trusts, as the one to share the burden with, as the one he knows that he can rely on in this moment, is something that stems back to their childhood. does that make sense? basically I’m trying to explain that the circumstances which led to this moment are circumstances which arose because of Deku’s own will, as well as Kacchan’s. that the two of them have made countless decisions which eventually led up to this moment. and so this is not a coincidence. and so that’s why it’s a choice that can be made effortlessly by Deku here, as soon as he thinks of it, with no hesitation or reluctance felt other than the sorrow of losing his dream. the fact that it is Kacchan is a relief. the fact that it’s Kacchan is why Deku knows it will work as soon as he realizes it. so yeah. make no mistake, you guys. Kacchan is his successor, and not once does Deku have even the slightest flash of regret about that. and meanwhile I have about a hundred thousand overflowing thoughts and feelings about it, but I suppose that’s to be expected lol.

so now let’s talk about Katsuki’s side of it. the moment when he realizes what Deku is doing is so intense, you guys. like a dozen different emotions flit across his face in the span of a few seconds. but you can see that chief among them are shock, and then frustration, and then this brief look of intense regret, and then finally, a sort of begrudging determination. and then he takes it.

so a couple things here. first it’s worth noting that at first Katsuki actually has no idea what Deku’s plan is other than that he’s giving him OFA lol. he doesn’t even ask him why until after the transfer, at which point Deku explains that he should still be able to use the embers to fight alongside him, so that they can team up and hit Nine with the ol’ OFA two-for-one special. but before this, for all Katsuki knows, Deku could be giving it to him for any number of reasons. he could be too hurt to fight anymore. or he might even think he’s at risk of dying, and thus is passing it to Katsuki so that it can live on. now there’s a scary thought, though one that I honestly doubt Katsuki would have considered for all that long, if he even did at all (because Katsuki has always seen Deku as someone strong, and we all know that in Katsuki’s mind, strong people = people that don’t lose; but that’s another essay topic for another day). but it certainly was a possibility, that can’t be denied.

but regardless of whatever was running through his mind at that moment, Katsuki takes it. but now here’s the other thing I really want to talk about: he hates it.

he hates it. the entire time, he hates it. he doesn’t want this. he doesn’t want One for All. One for All is Deku’s. and it’s not just that he feels that he himself is unworthy of it (although I think he might, just a little); but more than that, it’s that OFA is not just Deku’s quirk, it’s Deku’s dream. and he happens to know, better than anyone else in the world, just how much OFA means to Deku. what being a hero means to Deku. because this dream, after all, is the one thing that they’ve always had in common. the one thing that they’ve always shared.

and so even though he doesn’t hesitate either once he realizes what has to happen, because he knows they have no other choice, he still grieves all the same, for just a moment. because it’s the end of something that was maybe more important to him than he ever realized until exactly this moment. this partnership he has with Deku, this trust -- because they do trust each other and work with each other so seamlessly time after time again in this movie, and it’s amazing -- he is losing all of that if they go through with this. and also!! maybe, in addition to what he’s losing, maybe just maybe he is also grieving for Deku’s own loss, because he cares. about. Deku.

but he takes it. and he proceeds to kick some ass. and you guys. Bakugou with OFA is a fucking force to be reckoned with. he is a beast. but I’m not gonna go too much into that because there’s not really much to analyze or add to the discussion at this point, other than yes, Bakugou is a legit fucking conqueror and he was put on this earth to kick ass and take names and he knows it and it’s so fucking great holy fucking shit.

but so afterward. after they’ve OBVIOUSLY defeated Nine (BITCH YOU THOUGHT!! GO TELL HELL THE WONDER DUO SENT YOU, AND GOOD RIDDANCE), and they’re both lying there, unconscious. and All Might shows up (which lol how did he even get there; that’s another plot hole that I couldn’t really figure out. Hawks is one thing because the dude can fucking fly, but All Might is just sort of there on the island all of a sudden before almost anyone else, and I guess that’s just the Symbol of Fucking Peace for ya), and he makes a little pillow for Bakugou with his coat, which is something I didn’t see mentioned anywhere and so I wanted to point it out, because he doesn’t just ignore Bakugou and go straight to Deku; he takes care of them both. he’s a good dad.

but anyway. so he’s there and Deku wakes up and starts crying and apologizing and explaining that he gave OFA to Kacchan so they could save everyone etc. etc. etc., and then he passes out and All Might cradles his head and it’s. ;__; why movie do this to me. fff.

BUT ANYWAY I KEEP DIVERGING FROM THE POINT I WANT TO GET TO LOL. which is that at this point, OFA suddenly starts flowing back into Deku. and All Might is the only one that sees this, and he has no fucking idea why this is happening, and then he just decides, or guesses, or whatever, that it must be the Vestiges willing the power to go back to Deku. and he even calls it a OFA miracle in the same vein that people say “Christmas miracle”, which lmao yeah. it’s a OFA miraclleeeee happy holidays.

and I guess this is certainly possible. the Vestiges clearly do have their own wills; that’s canon. and Deku most definitely has some kind of Chosen One thing going on, because he’s the one who finally manages to activate SIXQUIRKS after nine generations, and I don’t think that’s just a coincidence. they clearly like Deku. which, of course they do, because who wouldn’t. Deku is great. and if I were one of the Vestiges and it were up to me, I sure would want to give him a second chance as well!

but here’s the thing which surprises me: no one ever seems to take into consideration what to me is the obvious alternative explanation for this whole thing. which is that this isn’t, in fact, any sort of miraculous occurrence at all, but is in fact OFA just following its normal old rules same as always. because as far as I can tell -- and I could very well be wrong about this, but I’ve looked all over to find a canon source that contradicts it and so far haven’t -- there is nothing in canon that states that OFA can’t be transferred back to someone after it’s been given away. and I don’t see why that would be a thing, either. like, why wouldn’t you be able to give it back and forth? as long as the person who currently has it wills it to go back to the other one, then why not? it’s not like the thing expires or something. it’s just that up until this point, all of the previous successors were either too dead (rip), or too injured to take the quirk back on, which is why they fucking passed it on to begin with.

all of which is my long-winded way of leading up to my point: Bakugou did not want OFA. and Bakugou’s DNA had already been shared with Deku, when they did the blood transfer that Deku used to give OFA to him. that went both ways. so as far as I can tell, all of the prerequisites are there for OFA to simply be handed back to its previous owner once the fight was done. Occam’s razor, right? why look for a convoluted explanation when another one is already there which makes sense? why did OFA go back to Deku? because One for All’s new wielder, a.k.a. the one currently in possession of the ability to pass it on, decided to do just that. and gave it back, to the person he thought was most deserving of it. the person who still had unfinished business with it. when are you going to make that power your own?

why not. to me it makes sense. there are a couple of inconsistencies here if this truly is the case, granted. chief among them being the fact that Bakugou should then logically be included among the Vestiges (and possibly Deku himself for that matter). but (1) that’s still a plot hole either way tbh, and (2) I don’t think handwaving this away is any more of an asspull than the whole “OFA just goes back to Deku because it feels like it” original explanation is, lol. like, either way there are clearly some established rules being broken here. maybe Bakugou didn’t have OFA for long enough for his will to be fully integrated with the other vestiges; or maybe his ghost doesn’t appear because he’s still alive (similar to how All Might’s outline is still pretty faint compared to most of the other vestiges); or maybe this has something to do with that Bakusilhouette which still hasn’t been explained; or whatever. but there are ways to explain it, is my point. and hence, to me, this is the most satisfying explanation for what happens at the end of the film, and the most consistent with the character development we’ve seen. because even if this didn’t end up taking place, Bakugou was always going to give OFA back to Deku in the end anyway. that much, I think, is a given.

anyway. so those are all my thoughts on the whole OFA transfer. oh, except for the whole amnesia thing I guess. and honestly, I’ll just come out and admit that while I obviously would have been thrilled if Bakugou had remembered all of this afterward, I get why they did what they did. because it’s a lot, and while I’m pretty sure this movie is considered canon as far as the manga goes, at the same time it would be pretty unprecedented for Horikoshi to just suddenly start referencing a development as big as this in the manga out of nowhere, and just assuming that all of his readers had the opportunity to watch the movie. the manga has to be self-contained and be its own story which can be understood and enjoyed even if you only read the manga. so for that reason I think a reset button was pretty inevitable, and so I’m okay with it. and on a lighter note, it’s something that can easily be explained away by a concussion (since concussions often do cause precisely that kind of specific forgetting-events-right-before-and-after-the-injury amnesia which Bakugou experiences), and in my mind that would only be fitting. since, again, these kids got fucking bodyslammed into SO MANY FUCKING CLIFFS, YOU GUYS, I KEEP SAYING IT AND I’M GONNA KEEP SAYING IT. it needs to be acknowledged! so. many. cliffs.

so that’s it! tl;dr (1) Deku trusts Bakugou and the transfer of OFA is a momentous display of that trust, (2) Bakugou respects Deku in turn and clearly hated the thought of “stealing” his quirk from him even though that wasn’t what actually happened, and so (3) my headcanon or whatever you want to call it is that Bakugou is the one that transferred OFA back to Deku in the end after all was said and done. and maybe there’s some reason why I haven’t seen this possibility being discussed much elsewhere, like maybe I’m missing some obvious reason why this has clearly been disproven already; but regardless, I see this as being in line with their character development, and something Bakugou absolutely would have done regardless, and I have TEN TRILLION FEELINGS ABOUT IT AND THEY ARE ALL “[wistful crying emoji]” the end.

#bnha #heroes rising #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #boku no hero academia #heroes rising spoilers #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #makeste watches bnha #bnha meta #bakudeku rising #is what this really was #let's be real #ahh man I'm so happy #bakugou meta #deku meta

246 notes · View notes

pebblysand · 4 years

Text

OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

#castles #is out baby #whoop whoop

6 notes · View notes

shadowsong26fic · 3 years

Text

Coming Attractions!

Because it is the first Monday of the month and also I think I skipped last month, whoops.

Because I think I haven’t done it in a while, I’m gonna take this opportunity to plug my writing discord--it’s not super active, but I sometimes ramble about various projects and I usually post updates there, too, if you miss things here or on AO3.

Also, Open Question Night because why not--if you’re new here (or have forgotten), while my askbox is always open, I’m actually hanging out and around to answer tonight. Anything I’ve talked about either here or Ao3 is fair game; questions about writing in general, etc. While I do accept prompt, I do not promise to fill them in a timely fashion, lol.

What’s on your minds?

In general, I’m a little bit behind on where I wanted to be on most things--I didn’t get quite as much done as I’d hoped in February, and then work got super busy in March, so I was scrambling to finish my BB draft, and things just sort of dominoed.

Star Wars Projects

Big Bang:

Still untitled, but I have...most of it written now! (Which. Like. Deadline for a more or less complete draft was April 1 so, lol.) There are a couple of bridging/character-building scenes I might want to add, maybe a couple additional flashbacks, plus I need to smooth out some transitions/starts and ends to scenes/I think I’m missing a fight scene or two, etc.

Anyway, I’m pretty excited! There are a couple scenes I’m really looking forward to sharing--some of the stuff with Bo and Padme’s relationship arc; a couple things with Anakin; that one part my notes subtitled ‘But Brutus Is An Honorable Man...’

That’ll go up in May--starting on the 4th, but I probably won’t post it all at once. The schedule will probably materialize once I’ve figured out exactly how I want to format it (since my original plan for how the flashbacks would be seeded through doesn’t quite work as the project stands...)

Precipice!Verse:

Still on hiatus/don’t have a start date for the next part. But my plan right now is to start posting once I have five chapters more or less ready to go. I’m hoping for either later this month or May, depending on how much BB edits/other projects/work eats my brain. I’ll probably put up another teaser this month. Hoping to get the first Preludes story out in the next few weeks as well, but I’m behind on that...

Other SW Projects:

OFLAM, Distaff, Auxiliaries, Devoted!verse, Jedi of Valdemar, etc. ...I don’t have any concrete updates on these but they are still in the pipeline. Just a little bit back-burnered at the moment. Though given how heavily Bo is featured in my BB project, that’ll probably kickstart OFLAM a little bit.

AtLA Projects

There are two I’m working on, and I’m hoping to start posting at least one this summer. I’ve talked about them in a little more detail in previous Coming Attractions posts, so I don’t have any real Updates, but just figured I’d put them here as a placeholder XD

BSG Projects

There is actually at least one thing solidly in the pipeline in this fandom for once! AKA my roommate has been watching SG-1, I’ve been in the room as she does, it woke up a crossover I had going back when I was actively in this fandom like seven years ago...anyway, that crossover’s gonna end up as an AU outline in the not too distant future. Which may or may not lead to more fic in this fandom, because it is a fun one to come back to.

Original Fiction

I keep meaning to get back into the groove of writing more original stuff and it keeps not quite happening, lol. I also really need to finish updating the Lux and Farglass Cycle archives...

I also really need to read more Arthuriana, because that Lady Mordred idea nibbling at the back of my mind is still present enough that I kind of want to actively work on it, at least in a backburnered sort of way. So, yeah, if you have recommendations for particular novels/resources, I’d appreciate it!

There are a few others that aren’t ones I post on rainbowfic (first contact novel, another traditional fantasy, the institute files, the judas epic, etc.) but the Mordred one is the one that’s uppermost in my head lately.

Anyway, no real active plans here except ‘try to post more to RF’ ‘update those archives already’ ‘maybe start working on the Mordred thing,’ but that’s where we are.

We’ll see how it goes!

...I think that just about covers it! Like I said earlier, this is an Open Question Night--I’d love to hear what’s on your mind/chat about my projects or whatever it is your working on!

#miscellania #coming attractions #shadowsong26fic

4 notes · View notes

goldenkamuyhunting · 4 years

Text

Quick outline of the changes in Golden Kamuy Vol 21

Here is a general outline of the more relevant changes that take place in Vol 21 compared to the magazine. Note that as usual I won’t dig into minor changes or redraws unless they seem to be relevant for the plot or characterization (or I really like them).

Also, to better let you understand some scenes or from where they come out, in some scenes I replaced the Japanese test with either the scanlation test or an appropriate translation (most of them courtesy of Lusetoj). Remember that this is merely an informative post and you’re actually supposed to support Golden Kamuy and buy the volume, either in Japanese or in your country’s language and that no, I don’t know if I’ll do a similar post for vol 22.

This is just because they changed so many relevant things here I wanted people to be able to follow them as they might affect future chapters and our understanding of them.

So now let’s start.

We spend a moment on the cover, which sees the return of Tanigaki on it.

Tanigaki is kind of a surprise as in the past after a cover with Sugimoto we always had a cover with Asirpa.

Of course the first time we had a group of 8 volumes before we had a cover with Sugi again but the second time we had 9 so it’s possible the cover for Vol 19 with Kiro was a last minute change.

Maybe the Sugimoto cover was meant for vol 19, with Asirpa on 20 and, yes, Tani on 21. We’ll see if Tsurumi will be on 22. Otherwise it’s possible to specualte the cover order is purely coincidental.

It’s also worth to mention that the backcover this time have Cikapasi (in the past it has Nihei).

On a personal note I would have preferred if it was Cikapasi who was on the front cover as in this volume he’s more relevant than Tanigaki but whatever, overall Tanigaki in the whole story has more importance and more fans than Cikapasi so okay, I get why Noda preferred to have him on the back.

We then move to the colour page.

It’s the colour cover of chap 193. In Vol 20 I wondered if Noda would use it later. Well, now it’s later, I guess.

A colour cover that was in the chapters included in this volume and that instead go lost is the one of chap 203.

The one of chap 205 was included in vol 20 so it’s not lost.

It seems in this volume there’s no short summary.

Now something really noteworthy while in the past volumes included 10 chapters, this one includes 11, the last presenting heavvy changes... but we’ll get there later.

Other chapters too saw the addition of extra pages and panels to expand scenes that already were in the magazine version so we can better understand what’s going on and of scenes that are redrawn, either to improve their quality, correct mistakes or add to the plot.

Note I’m not going to add them all but only those which are plot relevant (or that I particularly like).

Let’s start with chap 201.

Chap 201 is one of the most tame in terms of changes.

We can see that in the cover Ogata and Tanigaki now have their rifles and Koito his sword.

I was wondering if, now that vol 20 changed things so that Tsukishima was present when Ogata called Koito ‘barchonok’, hearing Koito asking about the word would ring a warning bell in his head but that’s not the case. The scene is as it was in the magazine.

The image of Vasily gets redraw so that some particulars are improved and his colours now matches with the ones he has in the other chapters.

The one relevant change in this chapter for me is in the final page. In the magazine Sugimoto had light in his eyes, now the light is no more.

Who has heard me or @chibivesicle ramble about the relevance of characters’ having light in their eyes know that we think when they have none is clearly a bad sign. Sugimoto is in full murder mode and Noda wanted us to see it (and he’s also holding the miso better but okay, this is not plot relevant).

The move to chap 202.

Not much is changed in this chap.

They only added some shading to Asirpa’s face in this scene in which Tani told her they couldn’t move because, if the sniper was Ogata, then the target was Asirpa, to imply how this affect her.

Poor Asirpa, a friend of her is under attack and she’s made aware it’s due to her this is happening. Noda did great to underline how this affected her.

We move to chap 203, which, as mentioned before lost its colour cover.

We’ve then a change, instead than a man in the sledge, the ones passing through the street are a man with his whole family all of them on a single horse, a dosanko, a particularly strong Hokkaido horse.

Sugimoto’s sentence as he spoke to Vasily was changed as well.

In the magazine he said something along the line of how ‘when I think to myself that the world Asirpa is seeing has me in it... I feel like I became clean somehow and can be saved.’

Now instead he says this:

The change fits more with what Asirpa will later say in chap 206 which in the magazine originally seemed merely Asirpa’s interpretation of Sugimoto’s words when now is a direct reference to them.

Noda added the Russian version of the sentences Tsukishima said to Vasily and to Sofia and Svetlana’s dialogue. Gansoku though still talk in Japanese and Sofia talk in Japanese to him as well.

Noda also added three small panels of Gansoku, fighting and showing his delight at being hit.

We continue with chap 204.

Chap 204 expands the Tanigaki/Cikapasi scene. Originally, when Cikapasi wondered if Inkarmat was well Tani said only he was sure she was and that they should go visit her when they were to get back. Now he talks about a telegram saying she’s well to which Cikapasi is delighted, with Tani now implying visiting her should be the first thing they’ll do once back.

When Tsukishima talks with Vasily they added the Russian version of his words.

Girel also looks slightly different.

There’s also some minor redrawing but, as you can see though, the changes aren’t really big.

So let’s move on chap 205.

There are some changes in what Sugimoto says to Tsukishima.

In the magazine Tsukishima urged Sugimoto to act because Tsurumi was about to come and Sugimoto replied although he’s sure hadn’t met Tsurumi yet he didn’t believe Asirpa would open up to a man like him. In the volume Tsukishima’s comment is cut and Sugimoto mentions Asirpa’s name when he says he’s sure she hadn’t met Tsurumi yet instead that when he says she wouldn’t open up to him.

Among the minor redrawing I found fun how ‘director Asirpa’ now also has a fitting hat.

Node decided to remove Asirpa calling the guys 3rd rate actors. She’s also not salivating anymore.

He also removed the ‘hey Inaba’ from this scene. I think the idea is to paint Asirpa as less of a rude director.

In place of Asirpa saying ‘We’ll do a story about the Kamuy’, Noda added a minor infobox about the tales of Pananpe and Penanpe.

For some weird reason Noda also redraw the scene in which Tanigaki hit the ground. It’s not relevant, I’m just sharing it because he changed Tani’s pose a lot... not really sure why as it doesn’t seem Tanigaki is making an effort to shield himself, unless it’s some sort of reference to another series.

And so to chap 206 we go.

It’s worth to note in this chap Girel is drawn same as in the magazine, in short he doesn’t wear anymore the glasses Noda geve him for the volume version.

Among the redraws I find worth to mention how not only Noda cut Shiraishi laughing at Tsukishima but changed the bit regarding Tanigaki, Cikapasi and Enonoka. It’s not just that the Tanigaki-bird flies more. In the following panel Tanigaki’s face is now visible but darkened. This remarks how Tanigaki is present in the panel, yet leaves the focus on Cikapasi and Enonoka. Tanigaki’s face is the focus of our attention in the following panel where, like in the magazine, he’s alone but his eyes are shining much more. Likely he too got emotionally involved watching that scene but those three panels are here to anticipate what will happen in chap 209, Cikapasi will choose to stay with Enonoka and leave Tanigaki.

We continue with new changes in the dialogues, specifically in what Sugimoto says to Asirpa.

While in the magazine Sugimoto gave his own interpretation of what Wilk told him ‘he said he raised you so you could fight in a war’, now he correctly reports Wilk’s words about wanting Asirpa to know how to hide and fight and that she would be the leader of the Ainu people.

He also corrected his words about Kiro. While in the magazine he just mentioned he took her to Karafuto and then died to as to push Asirpa into believing she had to think she had to fight, now he clarifies Kiro brought Asirpa to Karafuto to remind her how to break the code and died as a consequence of this (well, actually he died as a consequence of three men ganging up on him and they would have been four if Sugimoto could have a say in it). However this too, combined with what Wilk did, pushed Asirpa into thinking she had no other way but fight.

Another change is here. While before Sugimoto referred to “Stand at the head of the Ainu and die” and “Fight and kill people” as what they were telling her, now he calls all this as a curse casted upon her.

Next chap 207 & 208.

i couldn’t notice any relevant change in these chapters which is a pity as people might remember I pointed out how the skin count was wrong in them.

The same goes for chap 209.

Things start to change with chap 210.

We start tame with Koito now calling Hanazawa ‘former commander of the 7th division’ when in the magazine he called him just ‘commander of the 7th division’.

I mention this because now I wonder, who’s the commander of the division, the guy above Lieutenant colonel Yodagawa? Has such a commander be appointed? Is he in Tsurumi’s paycheck? Will he be relevant in the future?

Who knows?

Sugimoto and Asirpa’s talk is also different. Not only Shiraishi is present in the beginning and leaves after but Sugimoto replies to Asirpa’s question about what will happen to the Ainu.

Sadly Sugimoto’s idea they’ve an overwhelming advantage is a naive delusion... and maybe he too knows it and that’s why his eyes are completely black, without light. In his wish to save Asirpa he probably knows he’s sacrificing the Ainu.

This bit was also changed as in the original Tsuki didn’t mention Ogata.

This text is changed as well. In the magazine Koito said just ‘was because he wanted me to realize that we were being bade into pawns for first lieutenant Tsurumi, just like he and his father were!’

Now it mentions both Hanazawa and Ogata’s name and the sentence is visually split into two parts.

Then, although dialogues remained the same, Noda changed Tsuki’s expression in this scene. Tsuki now smiles when he says he was tricked too.

Tsuki also gets some new lines here as a flashback also expand the scene.

Noda changed a bit Tsuki here. Actually I wonder if he’s crying considering Noda added whiteness below his eyes.

Noda inverted Tsuki’s lines here as in the magazine he said:

“The first lieutenant is very skilled at saving people with “sweet lies.””

“So I don’t know what his true goal is.”

At the end of the scene Noda added Shiraishi spying them.

And so we reach chap 211... which is like a new chapter.

For start there are changes in the discussion between Sugimoto and Shiraishi here. In the magazine Shiraishi says Asirpa isn’t the Asirpa he knew anymore. In the volume he says she isn’t the Asirpa he first met.

... and here.

Koito’s expression is changed so as to show he’s not happy at all to see Tsurumi.

Now, when Tanigaki comments about how Tsurumi would let Asirpa see Huci she doesn’t say she’ll understand what kind of man Tsurumi is by looking at him. To make up for it Sugimoto says everything will go well and we get an exchange between Usami and Tsurumi showing what Tsurumi planned to do to Asirpa... clearly not even considering to listen to her demands.

As said before, the overwhelming advantage over Tsurumi, existed only in Sugimoto’s dreams.

Again Koito doesn’t look particualrly happy of being praised by Tsurumi contrary to the magazine version.

At this point the plot drastically diverges from the magazine to the point it’s no more an addition or a slight change but a real retcon and I’m not sure how Noda will deal with it in the future.

In the manga Asirpa and Tsurumi exchanged a glance, he was reminded of Wilk’s eyes and commented she had the same eyes as him. This words affect Asirpa (who previously has said she would get which sort of man Tsurumi is by looking at him, a scene removed from the volume) and, as Shiraishi throw up she prepare to toss her arrows.

In the volume instead things will go very differently... but let’s see them first.

All this is an important change as it shows Asirpa didn’t act merely due to her intuition or out of prejudice but because Tsurumi clearly acted in a manner that ended up creeping out even his own men, a manner that clearly implied he planned to part her from Sugi and keep her trapped (as he was doing with Inkarmat only in a much less friendlier environment) and that he had no friendly feelings for the Ainu and wouldn’t keep into consideration their wishes.

There’s actually much more to say about the changes but I’ll let it for a meta, if I’ll manage to write one.

Back to the changes, despite all he has heard from Tsurumi, Sugimoto now looks a lot less assertive and comfortable with Asirpa’s decision.

Tsurumi’s men are now better drawn and characterized, you can see Kikuta and Sugi now also informs them the arrows will kill them with just a scratch.

The last two pages are partially redrawn. but in them Asirpa also gets the chance to better clear up her position. Tsurumi also immeditely sends his men after her.

Anyway the volume ends here.

Enonoka do the thanks but her image is so tiny as Noda has used up all the pages he had hence the poor quality.

Anyway that’s all. As usual I recommend everyone to get the volume as it’s much better than the magazine version.

98 notes · View notes

jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 6 years

Text

Lost in Translation

Title: Lost in Translation

Fandom: Star Trek

Pairing: Mckirk

Rating: Explicit

Tags: minor character death, hurt, little bit of self destruction, stranded, possible smut down the line, new addition... there will be fluff!!

Summary:

“Attention citizens. This is the crew of the Enterprise asking for your aid. On Stardate 2264.78 a shuttle manned by our captain and fourteen cadets was ambushed by an unknown source and chased out of sight of our ship and into open space. Those cadets as well as our captain, James Tiberius Kirk, are still missing. We are asking anyone with any information on their whereabouts, or regarding the attack, to please contact the Enterprise immediately. Our family would appreciate any assistance you can give.”

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Special Thanks: wanted to give a huge shout out to my girl Katie, AKA @goingknowherewastaken for being a huge inspiration for this fic as well as for being a huge help (especially when it comes to putting up with my frantic ramblings lol) you're awesome boo <3

A/N: So this is a work in progress but it’s basically finished and I’ve been making great headway with this recently, so this will be the first fic I’ve ever finished! Woohoo!! And I'm thinking that I’ll probably stick to a Sunday post schedule.

Also a little note for y’all to keep in mind while reading. I have tagged this fic “possible eventual smut” and that’s because right now I don’t have any planned buuuuut… I'm going to leave that option up to you guys! Between the readers here and AO3, if you're still with me by the end of this fic, leave a comment and let me know if you would be interested in an epilogue or end scene with smut. I’ll post a reminder at the end, but keep it in mind while reading.

And if anyone is interested in being tagged for future posts for this fic or any others I may post, please let me know and I’ll add you to the list! Thanks for reading <3

Chapter 4:

The storm was raging, and had been now for almost two full days and nights. Now on day three of the torrential down pour Jim was at his wits end. Still with an injured knee, he limped around their crappy shelter as best he could while attempting to patch it up. There were holes everywhere it seemed, and he had run out of shuttle scraps to use for repairs. Water was coming into the shelter from every angle, the ground beneath them was soaked, his already suffering cadets were shivering and with injuries so bad he couldn’t risk moving them, and he was sure his worst fear was coming true.

After last night’s winds and brutal drop in temperature, two of his young cadets had woken late that day with deep, chesty coughs. Pneumonia. And what could he do about it? Nothing, absolutely nothing, not a god damn thing and he hated himself for it. He had tried to get his cadets off the ground as best he could, tried to keep them warm and dry, but one man could not fight the endless amounts of rain this storm was throwing at them. And it seemed, from what Jim could see, there was no end in sight.

After one last failed attempt at fixing more holes, Jim ducked into the shelter to check on his crew. They were holding on, they had been for ten days so far, but who knew how much longer that would last. The two cadets who had definitely come down with pneumonia were still coughing, struggling to breathe in the driest corner of the shelter. And of the other five, three were in and out of consciousness, and the last two were more then likely going to be fighting infections as bad as Colten’s was.

With nothing more he could do, he pulled himself to lean against the back wall of the shelter. He leaned his head back against the cold metal, the sound of the rain hammering on the metal scraps of their shelter drowning out his worries for the time being. He allowed sleep to take him in hopes that tomorrow would bring the familiar faces of his bridge crew, and the handsome doctor he found himself craving more and more each day. As his eyes slowly closed he thought about strong hands on his face, arms wrapping tightly around him and pulling him close, firm fingers running through his hair as a melodic chant of “Jim, Jim I'm here, it’s ok,” drawled in a sweet southern accent pushed him closer to sleep. And just before his eyes closed completely, a whispered, “Bones…” left his lips and he was finally asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Captains log, Stardate 2264.89. Last night was probably the best sleep I have had since the crash. I had hoped that perhaps today would bring better fortunes for me and my remaining crew, but unfortunately it was exactly the opposite. Some time in the night we lost two more members. Cadet Owen McDouglas had not only injuries from the crash, but possible pneumonia as well. And Cadet Obnerick Niich, I know he had some pretty bad injuries, but the actual cause of his death I am afraid I will never know. He was one of the members I thought might make it through to rescue. His injuries were not as severe as most others, yet he was gone before I woke up this morning…”

Jim was sitting at the edge of the shelter, looking out into the haze of rain still pouring from the sky above. He was cold, fed up, angry, and soaking wet. All he wanted was to get to the ship, to beam aboard and head straight for his best friend, to Bones, to home. But he had no way of getting there, no way of getting any sort of signal to them, or communication. Getting home was looking more and more like it was never going to happen.

“I hope that the admirals…” he stopped, shaking his head. At this point who cared what the admirals thought, he certainly didn’t. If they ever found the wreckage and his comm, Jim wasn’t making these logs for them, he was making them for Bones. Yeah, the admirals would want to know what happened to him and each individual crew member that passed in their time on the planet, but that didn’t mean they actually gave a rats ass about any of them, but Bones would. Bones would not only want to know what had happened, but would care about what happened to him. And if anyone knew that grump of a doctor it was Jim, and he knew that Bones would not give up until something was found. And if the only thing he found was this comm, then Jim was going to make sure that Bones knew he was thinking of him too. “You know what, I don’t give a damn what the admirals think. Bones… I'm sorry for this, for all of it. But I want you to know that I'm not sorry that you weren’t on this shuttle with me, things are bad down here, really bad. Most of my fourteen are either dead or… or dying, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that was you, Bones.”

Jim reached up with his free hand to wipe away a stray tear before continuing, “But I'm not giving up yet. I’ve still got five cadets counting on me, and I know you won’t let me go so easily. If I can count on anyone in this galaxy, it’s you, Bones. I know you'll find me…”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Captains log, Stardate 2264.9-” Jim paused, he felt like he couldn’t breathe let alone finish his sentence. Fourteen days in, fourteen days shipwrecked on this so far deserted planet, fourteen days of hell he wished he never had to experience. All he wanted was the ship, the crew, Bones… he wanted Bones more then he could express, and fourteen days in he was starting to seriously worry that he would never see him again.

With as calming of a breath as he could manage, he wiped the wetness from his eyes and tried to continue, “Bones… I lost them, I lost them all. I failed every single one of these cadets, our family, I failed our family, Bones!” His voice gave way as the sobs began to take over his entire body. “Cadet M’haka, Cadet Nyara Blanir, Cadet Liam Tyler, Cadet Blake Shaw, and Cadet Dierdra Graff… the last of my crew gone. Some perished from their wreck injuries, others from pneumonia, and a few from I don’t even know what, but I know you could have saved them, Bones.”

He looked out across the endless empty in front of him, the storm still raging on with no end in sight as he spoke again, “It’s been… fourteen days now since the crash, the storm is still going on, I'm cold, wet, hungry, home sick… alone. I have yet to see any sign of life, no species of any kind, and now with all of my fourteen crew members gone… I'm completely alone, Bones.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next three days Jim slept. There was really nothing more he could do. He had no more cadets relying on him for aid, the rain was still hammering down on the shelter, seeping through the cracks and running like a river underneath him. He was soaked through to his core and if something didn’t give soon, he was going to be this storms next victim. But four days later he woke to warmth on his skin, a small ray of sunshine came sneaking through one of the cracks in the shelter landing on his face.

He stretched into it, let his cold skin absorb the welcome heat. Slowly he crawled out of the shelter and into the sun that was already high in the sky above him. Once outside he laid on his back, arms out wide and revelled in the humid air breathing it in deep. Finally, finally his shivering would stop, his clothes would be dry for the first time in days, and his skin could return to its normal non-wrinkled texture. The ground beneath him was already dry and back to its desert like state, but he couldn’t be happier to finally see the sand covered ground surrounding him.

After what felt like hours of just laying in the sun, Jim sat up and faced the shelter. A pang of guilt and sorrow hit his chest hard, hindering his breathing as he thought about the fourteen bodies inside. He had to face it, there was no getting home for them. There would be no bodies to burry if he was ever found, no closure for their families, no peace for his cadets, hell, no one may ever even know what happened to any of them but what was he supposed to do about it? What could he do? With every fibre of his being he wished with everything he had that he could give them the peace and closure that they all deserved and it killed him that now he wouldn’t be able to do that, or at the very least inform their families of their bravery in the face of death.

Bones would know what to do, he thought as he sat up wrapping his arms tightly around his knees, Bones always knows what to do. But Bones wasn’t there, and Jim had to do something. Not only did he have his cadets to think about, but he was also now completely out of food and almost out of water. If he didn’t come up with some kind of plan he would be joining the cadets soon enough. All protocol stated to stay where you were, to never leave the original site if you were lost or wrecked, but he was starting to think that he wouldn’t have much choice soon.

He looked around himself, seeing desert in every direction. Not a single tree or bush anywhere in between, not even a blade of grass, aside from a small mountain to his right. It was a fair distance away, and he could potentially spend a few days crossing the desert to get to it, especially on a wrecked knee. But there was the potential of finding a water source up there as well as hope that there could be something more on the other side. Maybe people, something he could eat, someone who could help. Normally he wouldn’t take the risk, but at this point he didn’t see any other option.

He reached into his pocket and took out his comm. “Captains… captains log, Stardate 2264.96. Bones, I know it’s against protocol but I’ve decided I have to move on. The storm finally stopped this morning and I can’t stay here and wait to die. I… I'm out of food, I barely have any water tablets left, and that mountain to the right seems to be the best option. I'm hoping that at the very least I can find water and maybe some better shelter, and maybe there’s more to this planet on the other side of the mountain. If I could find some kind of food that would be great, then at least I could survive a bit longer, and if I could find people, hopefully people advanced enough to help, that would be a miracle. So far the only thing that’s on this side of the mountain is desert. But… leaving the cadets here, it feels wrong, Bones, though I can’t exactly take them with me. I’ve already let them down and now I don’t know what to do.”

Jim moved the comm away from his mouth, staring again into the shelter at his cadets. A soft wind had started to blow through, cooling the already sweltering heat. When the wind hit the shelter his eyes darted to a piece of metal that began bouncing around, causing a loud bang to linger across the desert. The piece of metal was hanging on by a thread, it must have been dislodged some time during the storm and Jim hadn’t noticed until now. He watched it flap back and forth, continuing to crash into the metal pieces underneath it, and finally Jim had an idea.

He forced himself up on weak legs, already shaking from lack of food, and slowly limped his way over to the broken piece of the shelter.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Leonard placed the padd on the table beside Jim's bed, more like slammed it down. What little resolve he had left was gone, he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and let them take over. Eighteen days and Jim was now alone, the Enterprise at this point was no where even close to finding him, and it was starting to sound like Jim was giving up on the ship and even himself.

Jim had grieved for the cadets he lost, kids, and so did Leonard. Fourteen young and promising lives gone, but Leonard also grieved for Jim. He knew that if anything had happened to any of those kids while they were missing, Jim would blame himself. Even if there was absolutely nothing he or anyone else in his situation could have done, Jim would blame himself entirely, and now he was blaming himself for the deaths of fourteen cadets. He could hear it in his voice, they way he spoke about their loss, about letting them down, failing them. He knew that even though Jim was here, in this room with him, body warm under his touch, that a small part of him died on that planet along with those kids, and now Leonard grieved for it. If Jim woke up this would be a hard bump to get over.

The door creaked open then, and without looking up he knew who it was. “Spock.”

“Doctor.” He came inside and closed the door behind him. He could see that Leonard was crying, that he was holding Jim's hand and running his thumb melodically across his fingers, and that he had abandoned the padd behind him on the table. “Have you finished the logs, Doctor?”

Leonard shook his head, gripping Jim's hand tighter in his, “I can’t Spock,” he whispered, not looking at the Vulcan, “I can’t finish them.”

“You must,” Spock spoke not with an air of authority, but an almost plea, which Leonard had never heard in the Vulcan's voice before. “I know this is difficult for you, I listened to the Captain’s logs as well. But I assure you, all will come together in the end, Doctor. If anything, you must finish them for Jim.”

Without so much as another word Spock silently slipped from the room. Leonard heard the soft click of the door and Spock's steady footsteps leaving the sickbay, then reached back to grab the padd. He let it sit in his lap for a while before he tapped the screen and brought up the next log. Turned out, the next ship log that fell in line with Jim's logs, was one of his.

He looked at the stardate on the log, the same stardate as Jim's last log. Eighteen days of no Jim, of searching the stars and endless planets for him and the cadets, and coming up empty handed every time. Leonard remembered the feeling of hope that would rise in him every time Spock would take a landing party to the surface of a new planet, the anxiety he would feel for the hours or sometimes days they would spend searching the surface, and the gut wrenching heartbreak he would feel when Spock would walk into the sickbay and shake his head. Every time Leonard would find himself in the bathroom, huddled over the toilet and emptying what little was in his stomach. And it only got worse.

With each passing day, and each Jim-less planet they searched, Leonard worried more and more that Jim was already lost. That they would never find him, or possibly find him dead. He didn’t know which was worse.

“CMO’s log, Stardate 2264.96. It’s been eighteen days of searching every god forsaken planet we’ve come across and we haven’t found a god damn thing in this black hell hole up here. No sign of Jim or his shuttle, or the god damn idiots who attacked us in the first place. And now Jim's out there, in god knows what state, on some god damn planet, and surrounded by who knows what kind of bacteria and infectious diseases. And the damn med kit on that metal death trap he was in ain’t got nearly enough supplies for fifteen people to survive on for more then two weeks, and it’s been longer then that already! If we don’t find them soon then… damn it! We need to find him! I need the kid back more then I even knew, actually… maybe I did know, I just couldn’t say it. God, I wish I had… to hell with this! I need a drink.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Little more angst, and next is the chapter I’m pretty excited about.... the Bones centered chapter!! XD

But I also thought I’d let you guys know that I had a bit of a revelation this morning lol. While trying to update this fic for y’all I decided that I’m going to slightly alter the original path I had outlined for this. Not so much alter but rather add to. So, this fic is probably going to be a little longer then I originally anticipated, but who doesn’t love a good long Mckirk fic? lol Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this update, hopefully more to come soon!! And as always your wonderful thoughts are always welcomed, and thanks for reading! <3

Tags: @goingknowherewastaken @bi-e-ne @medicatemedrmccoy @weresilver-in-space @resistance-is-futile81 @0dannyphantom0 @jimboy-mccoy @reading-in-moonlight @flaminglupine @haveyouseenmymind

16 notes · View notes

clary-jace · 6 years

Text

run away with my love (chapter two)

summary: when mike left, he was desperate to find anything better. he certainly never meant to fall in love. but, life words in mysterious ways and sometimes it sends you right into the place you’re meant to be without you noticing. runaway au. pairing: mike wheeler x eleven word count: 5,238 notes: i was so happy with how much love and support the first chapter of this fic got, so i was super pumped to post chapter two!! thank u all for all the comments and good reception, i appreciate all of your kind words very much. please enjoy and let me know what you think!!!

(read on ao3)

November 7 + 8, 1987

They’ve been driving for about twenty minutes when the realization of what Mike had just done begins to sink in. He can only sit there in slightly shell shocked silence as Indianapolis fades in the distance and they enter a small, homey neighborhood. Due to the late hour, there aren’t many other cars on the road, which only seems to make the silence even more deafening.

He ran away from home.

He got into a stranger’s car.

He’s on his way to spend the night in previously mentioned stranger’s house.

Before today, the craziest thing Mike had ever done is line up hours before the release of the final Star Wars movie back in ’83 with the rest of the guys. He definitely thinks that this might just be a little crazier.

Despite all that though, he still can’t bring himself to regret any of it.

If El has any indication that he’s mentally freaking, she doesn’t show it. Mike sneaks a glance at her at one point and she’s focused on the road, humming some pop song that he’s pretty sure his sister used to listen to under her breath. He’s grateful for it.

A couple minutes later she slows down and pulls up in front a modest looking home with a large tree in the front. There’s a police cruiser parked in the driveway and Mike feels his blood pressure begin to rise. His leg starts bouncing.

“My dad’s the police chief.” She says, a small smile on her face. It’s almost like she had read his mind. While that calms him down a little bit, no one is here because they’re looking for him or anything like that, his leg continues to bounce.

“Your dad’s a police officer?” His voice betrays him by being about four pitches higher than normal. “Is he going to be okay with this?”

El shrugs, looking at the front door. There’s a dim light in the front window and Mike can see the television playing some sports game. “I’ve never brought any strays home with me before, but considering everything that’s happened to me, I think he’ll be fine with it.”

Mike doesn’t quite know what she means when she says “everything that’s happened” to her, but she has a weird look on her face that tells him she probably doesn’t want to talk about it, so he doesn’t ask. He swallows roughly, giving her a forced smile and a nod.

“And besides, I’m pro at winning arguments with my dad at this point, if he even tries to fight me, he’ll regret it.” This time she’s smile, a hint of something akin to mischief in her eyes and Mike can’t resist the chuckle that falls from his lips. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, even if he says no I’ll sneak you into my room after he falls asleep.”

She says the words so bluntly that Mike almost chokes on air.

He’s never spent the night in a bedroom that didn’t belong to him or one of his friends, the fact that he’s going to be spending this one a stranger’s guest room was weird enough. The mere idea of sleeping in a room that belonged to a pretty girl, let alone a girl as pretty as El was (and boy was she) was enough to make his palms sweat and his heart thump loudly in his chest.

“Well, he’s gonna get all weird and confused if we stay out here much longer, you ready?” Mike nods wordlessly. He can feel his skin going cold and he no doubt looks paler than usual. El seems to notice this and reaches out, patting his hand. “I promise, it’s gonna be okay.”

And like earlier, when her words seemed to be all he needed, he smiled, suddenly feeling far less nervous.

“Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

She smiles, and opens the car, disappearing around the front of the car and up the walkway. Mike watches her for a moment, a small grin on his face. He waits a couple seconds before pushing his own door and following her.

Jim Hopper liked to think that he was a reasonable man. Especially when it came to raising his teenage daughter.

He had allowed her to take that weekend job that kept her out past midnight. He always let her best friend, Max, come over without asking first and without any questions. He never lectured her on her grades or forced her to show him her completed homework. He never asked her to turn her music down, never tried to tell her what to wear.

So yeah, Jim Hopper liked to think that he was a reasonable father.

That was until said teenage daughter decided to bring a teenage boy home with her one night. And not just any teenage boy, a teenage boy with whom Jim had never had the pleasure of meeting before.

Friday night started out like any other Friday night. He got home from work right after nine o’clock. He had one beer along with one piece of the traditional Friday night lasagna, put the rest in the oven on low to keep warm for El, and sat down to watch the week’s sports highlights while he waited for her to get home.

Typically El was home at about 12:20, give or take how much clean up there was, but it was never later then 12:25. She was always in the door before the 12:30 sports news started. So, the first sign to Jim that tonight was not a typical Friday night was when 12:20 hit and there was no sign of El.

Not a big deal, he thought absentmindedly, only a little worried. Maybe she’d had to clean up a lot of stuff, maybe there had been unexpected traffic coming out of the city. He was willing to explain it away, at least for a couple more minutes.

The second sign was when El did get home at about 12:30, she stayed in her car. Usually El was like clock work, park her car in front of the house, kill the ignition three seconds later, get out of the car about five seconds later, walk up the walkway and be in the house about thirty seconds after initially parking her car.

Tonight however, she didn’t get out of the car after killing the ignition. Jim didn’t think too much of it though. Maybe she had spilled something in the back and was trying to pick it up, maybe she was trying to organize her tapes so they were in the right place tomorrow. It was strange, but not weird enough to put him out of sorts.

The third sign was hearing not one, but two steps of footsteps coming up the path. He could hear the familiar light thump of El’s converse, but they were paired with another set that he couldn’t identify right away.

Again, it was strange, but Jim assumed that it was probably Max. It wasn’t completely uncommon for El to bring Max home with her on Friday nights, if her step dad was in a bad mood, or Billy had decided to show his face for the weekend. So while it wasn’t how it usually went, he had a logical explanation for it.

The fourth and final sign, and the sign that had Jim jumping up from the couch was the additional voice that he heard when the door finally opened, didn’t belong to Max. Oh no, it didn’t belong to Max at all. It was low and deep and definitively boy.

“Dad! I’m home!” El’s familiar greeting rang out moments later, but unlike most evenings when Hopper was still on the couch, this time he was in the doorway of the entryway as the words left her mouth. A small smug smile was on her face as she caught sight of him.

Little shit.

“Oh, hi dad.” Hopper simply gave El a nod before directing attention to the boy standing next to her. The boy who was gripping the strap of backpack with white knuckles and looked like he was going to pass out any minute.

“Who are you?” Hopper asked, giving the boy a pointed look. The boy gulped and Hopper could see him rocking anxiously back and forth on his feet. If Hopper didn’t know any better he would think this boy was some kind of criminal who he was questioning.

“Dad, this is Mike.” El said, even though Hopper hadn’t asked her. The boy simply nodded, a terrified look on his face. The boy’s eyes were wide and Hopper could practically feel the fear and anxiety.

It was in that moment when Hopper took and deep breath and made a decision.

“Nice to meet you, Mike.” Hopper said, giving the kid, Mike, a nod. He wasn’t really one for handshakes, so he settled for reaching out and clapping him on the shoulder.

He could see El beaming out of the corner of his eye. Mike however, looked confused and still slightly terrified, but he wasn’t moving around as much anymore and his grip seemed to have loosened on his backpack strap. Hopper considered this as much as a victory as anything else.

“It’s getting pretty late. Mike, why don’t you go up and take a shower. Towels are behind the door. When you’re done, El can show you were the guest bedroom is.”

Mike still looked confused, but Hopper could see his shoulders drop, like he let out a breath that he was holding and he gave Hopper a shaky smile.

“Uh, thank you, um, sir. I really appreciate it.” Hopper had to admit that he liked that the kid had manners. “You don’t have to do this but I really appreciate it, I don’t even need to actually stay, I can leave. I really appreciate it though.”

Hopper had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, kid sure could ramble.

“Mike, it’s fine. Go upstairs.” With that, Mike nodded, ducking his head down, a moving as quickly as he could out of the entryway and up the stairs. As soon as Mike had disappeared out of sight and was making noise in the upstairs bathroom, Hopper rounded on his daughter.

El was still standing there looking as unashamed as ever.

“El.”

She smiled at him, one of her hands reaching up to twirl a section of her hair. Hopper knew that look and as much sympathy as he had for the kid, he didn’t think El could get away with letting strange teenage boys come over to their house.

“Wanna explain to me what the hell that was all about?” El’s face fell slightly and Hopper crossed his arms across his chest, his eyebrows raised.

“Dad, you should have seen him.” El’s voice was quiet and not for the first time that night, Hopper’s heart twisted in his chest. “I’ve never seen someone look so sad and alone before.”

There was a moment of silence between them, El looking pensive, her bottom lip between her teeth. Hopper, on the other hand, was reflecting back to just a couple years ago when he had thought the same thing about El and had brought her home with him.

Like father, like daughter.

“El, you know why I’m upset about this right?” Hopper asked, leaning down slightly so he could look her in the eyes. His hands were on either of her shoulders, the usual stance he took when he was telling her something important and she nodded.

“Because he’s a stranger and we shouldn’t invite strangers over.” She pursed her lips. “And because even though it seems like everything is over, we need to be careful.”

Hopper nodded. “Exactly.” He moved one hand from her shoulder to ruffle her hair softly. “I appreciate that you have a good heart, kiddo, but we just gotta always be careful.”

“I know, I know.” El sighed. “But, I think that I can trust him.”

“What do you see when you look at him?” Hopper knew what El was talking about. He knew better than anyone that her ability to read people was like a sixth sense, or a superpower. Hell, sometimes he wished she worked down at the station with him so she could tell him if people were dirty criminals or not.

“I see someone who’s lost and alone and scared.” El’s voice cracked. “I see someone who just needs a place to go.”

She smiled sadly at him and Hopper gulped. Upstairs, he heard the shower shut off and he squared his shoulders. El was looking at him, her eyes wide. He knew that look.

“Go upstairs, show Mike where the guest room is and tell him we’ll talk about everything in the morning.” El nodded, quickly disappearing up the stairs. Hopper watched after her, his heart squeezing in his chest.

Hopper knew what he had to do.

When Mike woke up in the morning, at first he thought everything that had happened - the bus station, El, her scary father - had all been a dream. Waking up in a warm bed, staring at a blank white wall was something that Mike had become accustomed to, so when this particular morning started exactly the same, he didn’t think much of it.

But then, he rolled over, and with a slight panic, he sat up in bed.

For, he wasn’t in this familiar childhood bedroom, with it’s Star Wars posters, and academic trophies and various other knicknacks he’s acquired over the years. No, instead the walls of this room are blank, sans for a small picture of some landscape, and the only thing in here that belongs to him is the backpack that sits on a rocking chair in the corner, a towel thrown haphazardly across the back.

There’s a brief moment where all he hears is his mother’s voice in his ear, telling him to “hang up your wet towel, Michael, please” but he pushes the voice away with tear filled eyes with a shake of his head. Then the realization hits him, none of that has been a dream.

It all came back to him like a tidal wave.

He remembered his father’s empty words at the breakfast table just yesterday, it felt more like ages, and the unaffectionate squeeze to his shoulder, unlike the squeeze he had gotten from El’s father, which had been firm and reassuring. He remembered, with a tinge of guilt and sadness, the smiles of his friends as he waved goodbye to them as they parted. No doubt the phone at the Wheeler house would ring soon with Dustin or Lucas or Will on the other end, excitedly asking Mike to join them at the arcade or Castle Byers.

Too bad no one would be there to answer it.

Then his thoughts moved to El. El, who had brought him into her home and invited him to stay, even if just for a night. El, who hadn’t judged or questioned him, just offered him her understanding. El, with her kind eyes and bright smile.

He remembered, rather sheepishly, with a deep, warm blush splaying across his cheeks and back, the smile she had given him when she had knocked on the bathroom door. He had been embarrassed then, his pale skin turning bright red under her gaze as he desperately gripped the towel around his waist, praying that it wouldn’t fall. El hadn’t seemed to notice his embarrassment, merely guiding him to the guest bedroom and telling him to “sleep well” with a small grin.

(Honestly, El was probably the biggest reason he thought he was dreaming. Sure, it was crazy to think that he had run away from home, something he had never even thought of before. But there was absolutely no reality that Mike could conceptualize where a pretty girl, no scratch that, a downright beautiful girl, like El would ever give him the time of day, let alone smile at him the way she had).

A shiver ran down his spin at the mere memory of it. God, he wanted her to smile at him like that again.

Downstairs he heard a laugh, a deep and booming one. El’s dad.

El had told him the night before that her dad wanted to talk to him in the morning, no doubt to find out what happened and subsequently send him back to his dad. That’s what any normal adult would do, especially one who was a literal cop. With a slight panic, Mike tried to remember if running away from home was illegal, oh god, he was pretty sure it was. Did this mean he was going to be arrested?

Deciding to just get this over with, Mike pushed himself up from the bed, groaning when his feet hit the cold hardwood. The small clock on the bedside table told him that it was almost nine, and his stomach growled loudly. He hoped that El’s dad would at least maybe give him something to eat because shoving him in the back of his cruiser and transporting him back to Hawkins.

Throwing on his jeans from yesterday, Mike made sure that all his stuff was in his backpack before shouldering it and quickly exiting the bedroom and going downstairs.

He followed the noises of soft conversation through the house and into the kitchen. There he found El and her dad, helpings of eggs and bacon and waffles spread out on the table in front of them. His mouth watered at the sight.

“Mike! You’re up!” El exclaimed when she saw him, giving him a wide smile. Mike couldn’t help but grin back at her, his heart picking up pace in his chest. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Y-y-yeah.” Mike said, mentally kicking himself for apparently not being able to talk like a normal human being. But really, it wasn’t his fault that El was impossibly gorgeous for nine o’clock in the morning that it literally rendered him speechless. That was on her, not him.

“Good. I’m very glad to hear it.” At this point Mike was pretty sure he was just standing there staring and smiling at her like an absolute idiot. He, also, probably would have continued to do so if her dad didn’t clear his throat from his place at the counter.

Both teenagers jumped slightly, El recovering quickly and spinning in her chair to look at her dad while Mike had to take a small breath before directing his attention to the burly police chief who, despite his kindness yesterday, Mike was still very much afraid of.

“El, can you give me and your pal, Mike, a couple minutes to talk.” The words weren’t spoken as a question, but El still nodded and got up from her seat. When she passed Mike on her way out of the kitchen, she gave him a small, reassuring smile.

“You’ll be fine, I promise.” She whispered, reaching out and squeezing his arm. Even though he wasn’t quite sure he believed her, her words did bring him comfort and he relaxed his shoulders a little bit as she left the room. However, now he was left alone with her scary dad, and he was pretty much totally terrified.

“You hungry?” Her dad asked, gesturing to the food in front of him. “I’m pretty sure El didn’t eat all of it. Kid sure knows how to eat, you’d never know by looking at her, but I think she was purposefully restraining herself so there’d be some left over for you.” He pauses for a second. “Come on kid, put your bag down and come sit down, I’m not gonna bite.”

Blushing, Mike drops his bag down on the floor with an unceremonious thud and slips into the chair that El had just abandoned. Her half empty plate is in front of him, syrup drowning a waffle and eggs scattered around the edges of the plate. Hesitantly, he picks up the extra fork that’s been placed on the countertop and puts a couple of pieces of egg into his mouth.

“Listen, kid -” El’s dad starts once Mike’s taken a couple of bites and Mike feels his leg begin to bounce ferociously under the counter, causing his chair to begin to shake. He already doesn’t like where this is going.

“I’m sorry.” Mike blurts, not one hundred percent sure what it is he’s apologizing for. El’s dad doesn’t seem to have a clue either, based on the confused look that takes over his features. “Sorry, sir, I don’t know I’m apologizing for, but I’m sorry. Sir.”

“Mike.” The older man stops Mike’s word with a simple movement of his hand. “It’s okay. Also, you can drop the ‘sir’, makes me sound old.” Mike tries so hard to make sure that his features don’t betray his slight amusement, luckily, El’s dad pushes on. “Hopper is just fine.”

Hopper, god, even El’s last name was absolutely adorable.

“Ok, sorry Hopper, I mean, uh, I’m not sorry?” Mike can already tell this conversation is going to be an absolute trainwreck. He just wants Hopper to rip the bandaid off so he can put Mike out of his horrible, awkward misery.

Hopper chuckles lightly with a small shake of his head. “Listen, Mike.” Mike gulps. “El seems to think very highly of you despite the fact that you two have only known each other for nine hours.” Mike feels his skin burn with blush at Hopper’s words, praying to god that Hopper doesn’t pick up on why, even though he probably most definitely does. “And I trust her judgement on most things, and I want to help you.”

That’s definitely not what he had been expecting. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Mike’s not totally sure, Hopper doesn’t give Mike any real time to determine what he means by “help” and Mike is going to have to do to get it. He continues speaking before Mike has time to form any kind of response.

“But, I can’t help you if I don’t know anything. Now, I don’t know how much you told El, she didn’t tell me anything outside of the fact that your name is Mike and she found you in the bus station.” Mike felt his cheeks blush, cursing himself for having such a reaction when El’s name was mentioned. “So, I just want to know what your story is, kid. You don’t have to tell me anything, I don’t need all the gory details, but I do need something.”

Mike took a deep, shaky breath. Despite the fact that everything that had happened with his mom and sister had happened months ago, he had never said anything about it to anyone. It had been such big news in Hawkins that he never had to, everyone just kind of knew, which meant Mike never had to talk about it. After the whole thing had become old news, something dramatic and gossip worthy taking its place - Mrs. Kingston sleeping with her son’s middle school English teacher definitely got the town talking, and was more fun to whisper about then the untimely death of a mother and her young daughter.

“I...um….” The words caught in Mike’s throat. He could feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and rubbed them, not wanting to start crying in front of El’s father. He cleared his throat, desperate to chase the incoming sob away. He thought about the words that he wanted to say, the words he wanted to scream from a rooftop.

My mom and sister are dead. It’s my fault and no one would miss me if I was gone, so I left.

The words fail to come though and instead Mike feels his heartbeat begin to increase and he feels like he can barely breathe. His breaths are coming out shaky and his vision is blurring and he wonders how long it will be before he passes out. There’s a firm hand on his shoulder, however and Mike lifts his eyes to see El’s dad looking at him, concern swimming in his eyes.

“It’s alright, kid.” He says, squeezing Mike’s shoulder. “You don’t need to tell me the story if it’s too hard, I get it.” Mike nodded, wordlessly, grateful for the older man’s kindness. “I gotta ask you though.”

“Yeah.” Mike croaks, tears hot and thick in his throat.

“Anyone know you’re gone?” Mike thinks back to his empty, cold house. He thinks about Holly’s closed bedroom door. Nancy’s neatly made bed that hasn’t been slept in for months. He thinks about the cold engine of his mom’s station wagon.

He shakes his head. Hopper sighs.

“Will anyone be coming to look for you?” Biting his lip, Mike ponders this. He knows the guys will notice he’s gone, but he doesn’t know how hard they’ll look for him. He doubts they’ll call the police, especially not in this area. His dad on the other hand?

His dad doesn’t even notice him when he’s there, he doubts his dad will notice he’s gone.

“No.” Mike says softly after a second, wiping at his face where he feels wet tear tracks. His eyes don’t look up to meet Hopper’s, but the hand on his shoulder squeezes again.

“El, get in here I know you’re out there.” Mike glances towards the door, where El pops out from behind the door frame. She looks unashamed that she was caught, quickly making her way over to Mike’s side. He quickly wipes at his face and sits up, slightly embarrassed that she probably totally saw him crying.

However, El merely smiles at him. He can’t help but give her a small, sad, grin back.

“Did you decide?” She asks softly, looking to her dad, expantly. Mike feels his eyebrows come together in confusion. Decide what? Something about him? Had El and her dad been talking about him?

Hopper sighs, moving his hand from Mike’s shoulder. He crosses his arms across his chest and nods. “I did.”

“And?” Mike’s eyes flick to El, who has an eyebrow raised. She looks almost like she’s challenging her dad. Mike gulps. He still doesn’t really know what they’re talking about, but considering the way Hopper’s eye are now looking at him, Mike has a very big feeling it has to do with him.

“I think Mike should stay with us for a while.”

If Mike had been confused before, it was nothing compared to now. In fact, at first he was pretty sure that he had misheard Hopper, or imagined the words that had come out of his mouth. He sat up in his seat, leaning forward across the table.

“What?”

Hopper rested his forearms on the table, looking at Mike. “Look, kid. I’m not saying that this is going to be a permanent thing or anything like that, but, I think it’s the best thing to do right now.”

Mike snuck a glance at El, who had a small smile on her face before directing his attention back to her dad. “I’m confused, why are you letting me stay here? Not that I’m not grateful or anything, but I don’t really understand why.”

“I know that when El let you stay here last night, she told you that she would take you back to the bus station today, am I right about that?” Mike nodded, wordlessly. “Do you have a plan for where you’re going?”

Mike opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, not wanting to lie. He shook his head.

“That’s why, kid. You have no idea where you’re going, and I can’t in good conscious let you go to the bus station when you don’t have any kind of plan.”

Mike supposed that made sense, but if that was the case then why wasn’t Hopper forcing him to go home? That was pretty much the last thing that he wanted, so he wasn’t going to argue, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t confused.

“But,” Hopper continued. “Hearing what I just heard from you about no one coming to look for you, I don’t think sending you back home is going to help anyone either. I’m not saying that I’m gonna let you live here forever, but I think you staying here is best until we can figure something out.”

“R-Really?” Hopper nodded.

“I may be a police officer, but I’m also a father.” Hopper’s eyes went to El and he smiled. “She was the one who wanted you to stay, I just agreed with her.”

Crinkling his eyebrows together, Mike looked up at El who merely shrugged. “I may have suggested it.” Not waiting for any kind of response from anyone, El then shuffled away from the table, grabbing Mike’s bag, which was still discarded on the floor. “I’m gonna go put this back in the guest room.”

Without another word, she darted from the room, disappearing out of sight. Hopper snorted and Mike feel a small smile making its way onto his face.

“You’ll get used to that.” Hopper said, pointing in the direction that El had just disappeared. “El, I mean. She’s a little weird, but you’ll get used to it.”

Mike could tell by his tone that Hopper was using ‘weird’ affectionately and he smiled, even though it squeezed at his heart a little bit. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever heard his dad say something like that about him. Looking down, he swallowed roughly, determined not to cry again.

“I would follow her if I were you. If you don’t intervene soon, she’s gonna unpack all of your stuff and put it in the last place you’d ever look for it.” When Mike looked at him, Hopper only could lift his eyebrows, taking a sip of his coffee. Taking the hint that Mike was supposed to leave the table now, he pushed back from his seat.

“Thank you.” Mike said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “For, uh, you know. Everything. Breakfast, letting me stay, you know.”

“It’s not a problem, Mike.”

“Well, I really appreciate it. I don’t want to be any kind of burden and I’ll leave whenever you want me to, sir.” Mike could feel himself on the verge of a ramble and clamped down on his tongue in an effort to resist continuing to blab.

Hopper held a hand up, stopping whatever Mike’s unfiltered brain was going to spew. “You’re not being a burden kid, alright.” Mike didn’t say anything, merely biting down on his lip and rocking back and forth on his heels. “Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

“Yeah, sorry.” He winced. “Thank you again, uh, sir.” He winced again. Deciding to just shut up, Mike nodded, turning away from the table and quickly retreating from the room.

“Hey Mike,” He spun slowly on his heels. Was Hopper already regretting his offer? “If you’re gonna live here, you gotta stop calling me sir.” Because he didn’t know what else to do at this point, Mike could only laugh slightly. “Now, I’m serious, get out of here.”

Turning back around on his heels, Mike hurried from the room and made his way to the stairs. He could hear El upstairs, no doubt doing what Hopper had just warned him about and Mike smiled.

He had a very good feeling about this.

tag list: @mikewheeler, @mikeweezers, @dancingskygreen, @somerainbows, @strangerdoggos, @the-fandom-queen-28, @michael-hearteyes-wheeler, @stydixa, @fatechica, @janeswheeler (some of y’all said you wanted to be tagged and other people i just love u and admire u so i tagged u, feel free to tell me if u don’t want to be tagged in the future)

#mileven #mileven fic #mileven fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #fanfic*#i'm so excited abt this #i'm really loving writing this so far so i'm happy some of y'all are so excited about it #it makes me excited #thank u for all of the support love y'all

40 notes · View notes

stopforamoment · 6 years

Text

The Secret Garden (10 of 12)

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks

Word Count: 2,033

Rating: M for Mature Langauge

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this.

Inspiration: Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden, Chapter 11

He stepped over to the nearest tree—an old, old one with gray lichen all over its bark, but upholding a curtain of tangled sprays and branches. He took a thick knife out of his pocket and opened one of its blades.

"There's lots o' dead wood as ought to be cut out," he said. "An' there's a lot o' old wood, but it made some new last year. This here's a new bit," and he touched a shoot which looked brownish green instead of hard, dry gray.

Mary touched it herself in an eager, reverent way."That one?" she said. "Is that one quite alive—quite?"

Dickon curved his wide smiling mouth.

"It's as wick as you or me," he said; and Mary remembered that Martha had told her that "wick" meant "alive" or "lively."

Summary: Bastien shows Rinda the palace maze and tree, but it isn’t as romantic as he’d thought . . .

When they got back to the palace Bastien turned to Henry. “There’s one more thing. And this one is actually a royal command from the King, so I have to do it. Well, and I want to do it,” Bastien quickly added, seeing the concern in Rinda’s eyes. He led them over to the maze.

“Henry, when King Liam, his brother Leo, and Drake were kids they’d always play in the maze. There’s also a large tree with a swing in the middle. Would you like to check it out?”

Henry grinned and started to run ahead, but he quickly stopped when there was a fork in the path. “Should I wait for you?”

Bastien laughed. “No, go ahead and figure it out. I’ve had to find King Liam in here plenty of times. I’ll find you too.” He looked at Rinda and snickered. “Mara and I still have to come in here to find Liam and Riley when they sneak off.”

Rinda threw back her head and laughed. “Good for them! So is this maze really confusing or pretty simple?”

Bastien shrugged. “It’s not as bad as The Shining.”

Rinda chuckled. “We’re not going to make it out of here alive, are we? Seriously. If you suddenly get called away for an emergency, you absolutely have to send someone to find me and Henry if we don’t make it out by morning. I’ll be really ticked off if you don’t. Promise?”

Bastien solemnly nodded. “Promise.”

“It’s pretty cool that kids would play in here. This must have been great for hide and seek.”

“Actually, tag was more their thing as kids. But I know the terrain and have a significant advantage over you and Henry. I’ll get you a map to study so we can play next time.” Bastien smiled when he made her laugh again.

“So Rinda, tell me about that book. The Secret Garden. It was the Queen’s favorite, and yours too, right?”

Rinda snickered. “What, my 2:00 AM summary while I was in PJs in front of the King of Cordonia didn’t explain it well enough?” She shook her head. “That was really embarrassing, by the way. I’m sorry if I completely made an ass of myself.”

“No, you didn’t. Trust me, you were fine. Even in PJs. By the way, were those . . . smiling bananas on your PJs?”

Rinda nodded her head. “Yup. Banana pajamas. And some of the bananas had sunglasses. It sounds like you couldn’t erase the vision that was burned into your retinas.” She shook her head, laughing at herself. “Anyway, the book. It’s partly about magic and healing. See, Mary Lennox is sickly and selfish at the start of the book. She’s seriously an absolute bitch who can’t even dress herself without a servant’s help. Her cousin Colin is an invalid and an even bigger spoiled pain in the ass. But the garden, well, it’s magic. Even how Mary finds the key and the hidden doorway to the garden are magical. Then there’s a neighbor boy named Dickon, and he has a magic touch with wild animals and nurturing things. They play in the garden and help take care of it, and it’s also magical how the garden comes to life in spring, and Mary and Colin get healthier and less selfish as they spend more time in nature.” Rinda stopped and faced Bastien. “It’s also about happiness though. The kind of happiness we have when we stop being selfish and start caring about other people and other things.”

They got to the center of the maze and Rinda gasped. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined it would be. I love climbing roses in a garden, rambling around everything.” She reverently touched the swing.

Bastien blushed, unsure of what to do. “Um, Rinda. Do you want to sit in it? I can . . . ”

She turned to Bastien and shook her head. “In the story, the uncle was a recluse because he went insane with grief. He and his wife created that garden, and they trained the roses to cover the tree. The tree didn’t have a swing but Lilias, his wife, liked to sit on a branch in the tree. There was an accident when the tree branch broke, and she died from the injuries. That’s why the uncle locked up the garden and threw away the key.”

Rinda wasn’t sure how to explain the next part. It was important that Bastien understand what might have motivated Liam’s mother to include this beautiful tree with such a dark history. “It isn’t morbid that Liam’s mother created this garden with the tree. I just don’t think it’s meant to be . . . romantic. It’s supposed to be a magical place where children play and where people can forget that they are outsiders who don’t really fit in. And the maze . . . maybe that was her way of creating the adventure of finding the secret garden and sneaking into it. Because that’s part of the magic too.”

Bastien had a tender look in his eyes. God, Rinda reminded him so much of her. Rinda quickly slipped off her sandals and walked closer to Bastien. “Hey, this place is magic, remember? It’s a place to heal and to play . . . TAG!” She was laughing when she touched Bastien’s shoulder and ran off, quickly getting lost in the maze as she yelled to Henry that Bastien was “it.”

. . . . .

Rinda was in bed when she heard the soft knocking. “Rinda? Are you still awake?” It was Bastien. She crawled out of bed and opened the door.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yes, but we could use your help in the library. Do you mind joining us?” Bastien saw her turn toward Henry’s room. “If we’re gone awhile I can have a guard check on him, if you’d like.”

Rinda shook her head. “He’ll be fine. Now that he’s slept here one night it’s not as big of a deal if he wakes up and I’m not here.” She suddenly looked down, realizing how under-dressed she was. “Here, just give me a minute to change into something else. Not that anything will beat the smiling bananas pajamas.” She left the door halfway open while she grabbed some clothes and slipped into the bathroom. She came out a couple minutes later, and Bastien was still waiting in the hall, his back discreetly turned away. “Okay, what’s up?”

Bastien led Rinda to the library, and she was shocked to find Mara and other Royal Guards working on a laptop and examining the book shelves. Mara gave Rinda a quick smile. “Hi Rinda, thank you for coming to help us. I’m sure Bastien already told you, but everything that happens here is confidential. You were never here.” Rinda nodded.

Bastien continued. “We’ve been checking the Queen’s other books for notes, like the one you found last night. We’ve found others that have been very helpful.” He paused. “And I know King Liam appreciates that you found his mother’s note for him.” Rinda gave a sad smile, thinking about a boy losing his mother at such a young age.

Bastien cleared his throat. “What’s a four-word password that you think the Queen would have used? We’ve already asked Liam, but he doesn’t have many concrete memories of her.” He paused. “The other guards who knew her can’t think of anything either.”

Mara quickly added, “We’ve tried ‘Liam,’ ‘Mary,’ ‘tree,’ and ‘rose.’ We also checked the words in the notes she left—in English and French—and we can’t think of anything else. We thought you might remember something else from that book, or maybe from the other books on that shelf? It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.”

Rinda nodded. “Try wick w i c k. Moor m o o r. Rinda was talking to herself. “Might I have a bit of earth? Terre. No, that’s five.” She looked up again. “I can think of other important English words, but I might need help translating them to French. And into Greek for sure. And can you please tell me the list of other books again?”

Mara was already nodding her head to Bastien before turning to Rinda. “No need. You’ve already figured it out.”

Rinda was surprised. “Really? That’s all? That was easy enough!” She quickly turned around to let herself out.

“Rinda?” It was Bastien.

“I know. I was never here.”

“No, thank you. I’m sorry I can’t explain, but please know that you’ve done more this weekend than you’ll realize.”

She gave Bastien a shy smile. “Thank you, I appreciate that.” She quickly looked around the room. “Good night everyone.”

. . . . .

Bastien messaged Rinda and Drake few hours later. I need to help with additional security this morning. I’ll be an hour or two late for fishing, so just go without me.

Rinda groggily reached for her phone and messaged back. I don’t mind waiting for you. Drake can decide if we need to leave at the ass crack of dawn for good fishing or if he wants me to do football drills until you get there. But if you can’t join us that’s okay too. Please just focus on what you need to do and we’ll see you when you’re done.

Rinda paused and then sent a second message. And do you ever sleep?

Drake was awake too. Heh. I’m still up and drinking, so I’m okay with a later start. Let’s make it 9:00 and I’ll drill Rinda until you get there.

*Snort.* Drake, you’re such a cute little puppy. I don’t think Bastien wants your sloppy seconds. And what are you drinking, and where?

Whiskey. Downstairs. What sloppy seconds?

Bastien grinned. It’s better not to ask. Okay, I’ll try to rescue Rinda by 9:30 and she’d better not be too tired to go fishing.

What the hell are you two even talking about? And I’m not a cute little puppy.

Rinda laughed. Okay, you’re a sweet little marshmallow. Better?

No. Now let me drink in peace.

Bastien was about to exit the conversation but thought better of it. He just silenced the conversation so he could read the rest of it later.

. . . . .

Drake, so whiskey. Is it okay if I join you if I promise to stop talking? No judgement if I leave my kid alone in a huge palace while I go tie on one?

Heh. Why not.

What kind of whiskey. If it’s really cheap stuff I need a handful of Tums and some serious greasy-spoon breakfast when we’re done. It sucks to get old.

Oh, no. This is the palace whiskey. I know where the good stuff is kept.

Send me the coordinates. I’m on my way!

. . . . .

Bastien was laughing as he caught up with the conversation a few hours later. It sounded like Drake and Rinda were getting along and would work well together, if he chose Drake for the position.

Working well with Rinda. In so many ways she was easy to work with, and he appreciated how understanding she was of his career and its demands. But in other ways it was challenging to figure her out. She was so easy going and confident . . . until she wasn’t. She would suddenly get shy and ask questions about the oddest things like double dipping. And she said her best friends were double dippers. Did I even answer her question or did I give her my silent stare and make her uncomfortable? She couldn’t even order her own food that night. She had been too busy taking everything in, and she knew they were hungry and ready to order. Henry said Rinda and Jameson would laugh at how bad she was at ordering, so Jameson would have to help her and order for her. Henry was the one who suggested she sit down while they order the food. And Rinda didn’t even ask to try his food, even though she mentioned earlier that she’d like to. What did I even say to her when we were joking about Joey sharing food?

Fuck. For a person whose job it is to read people, he was an absolute idiot when it came to Rinda.

#bastien lykel #choices trr #ofc rinda parks #a mother's love series

15 notes · View notes